Are you crazy?
Are you out of your ever lovin' mind?
How could you even think such a thing?
Don't I make you happy any more?
How could you ask me such a thing?
Are you trying to tell me about your own infidelity a way to erase your dishonoring the vows you made to me?
There I was, lying in bed next to the only man I have ever deeply loved, feeling my sexual excitement build as he kissed and caressed me. It had been such a beautiful and joyous day. A close friend of mine had gotten married to a very handsome black man. Their wedding was so very beautiful, made more so by the stark contrasts between them. She petite and snow white, he tall, ruggedly built and ebony black.
The wine, the stimulation of wedding, the evening's entertainment and now my husbands touch had brought me to a fever pitch and suddenly out of the blue, he is asking me if I had ever desired to have sex with another man since we had been married. NO - OF COURSE NOT.
Then he told me he'd seen how I looked and reacted after being held close as I danced with several of the black men at the reception. How he could sense my own sexual needs was so heightened that night. He said he knew how much I wanted to have sex with a black man. He KNEW that eventually I would act on what I tried so hard to deny. How he would rather help me and witness as I fulfilled my deepest desires and passions. To do so without being distracted by his own drive for his sexual release.
How he would love to watch as I saw a black man's penis for the first time and took one into my hands. To see my reaction as a black man's dick became thicker and longer as I stroked and sucked his ebony tool, to see my hunger for it grew and grew.
Had I ever imagined what it would be like to open my legs and watch as a Negro filled my white pussy with his long, thick, hard, black cock - to fuck me deeply and fully until I begged him to fill me with his hot thick cum?
All I could do was blush and make accusations and fall back onto what I believed a loyal, honorable white wife should say:
What possessed you to even ask me such a thing?
You think I'm some kind of cock hungry whore?
Don't you love me any more?
Have you turned into a sick pervert in need serious psychiatric help?
Still he persisted, creating word pictures of what an interracial experience could be like for us as he kissed and touched me.
Oh GOD!, I thought to myself -
He wants to watch a black man kissing, and undressing me.
See a black man's large dark hands caressing my breasts, touching and pressing his fingers into my sex?
He wants to see me taking a long thick black penis into my mouth and suck a Black man's cock. He probably wants to see him cum in my mouth too!!
He wants a black man to spread my legs and make me squirm and moan as his lips and tongue taste and invade my vagina, until I beg him to fuck me.
Does he really want to see a black man pushing my legs back, and rub the head of his hard black member against my pink vagina? OH GOD HE DOES - he wants to see a Negro pushing his black dick into me slowly, deeply, making me cry out as his thickness stretches and disappears into me then pounding into me until he fills me with his cum.
My LOVING HUSBAND REALLY WANTS TO SEE HIS WIFE FUCKED BY A BLACK MAN.
Yes; All of this and more is what my loving husband wanted for us. Yes this is what he wanted "For Us". Not for HIM - Not for ME - For US.
But was this something I wanted as well? Even as I felt myself cumming as the thoughts and images his words created raced through my brain, I refused to believe it might even be remotely true. NO it was the wine and the emotions of the wedding that excited me on such a deeply subconscious level. Wasn't it??
Thus it began and over the days and weeks that followed my husband's words and my own thoughts didn't diminish. I caught myself looking at the pants of black men I would pass in the street or in hallways. I could actually feel my face turning red as I imagined what seemed to be only barely hidden from my view. Daydreams of myself in a torrid sexual embrace with them would flood into my mind out of nowhere. Bike messengers in tight spandex made me imagined myself kneeling before them, pulling down the material of their shorts to reveal what I was becoming more and more drawn to.
But most important of all the seed of truth began to slowly reveal itself to me. It took many many long hours of private soul searching before I began to accept that this was something I truly had wanted for so very long.
Once I was past the suspicions, and doubts about his motives we explored, talked, fantasized, played and communicated more openly and completely than we had ever done before. We looked and talked about pictures we would find and read each other interracial stories we had found. We talked about everything and not only about interracial sex but everything. It truly did open the door for complete honesty about our sexuality and thoughts we'd hidden from each other.
During our journey, we talked with others who not only shared their own thoughts but also were willing and unselfish guides for us. Not least among these is a wonderful man named George who has dedicated so very much of his own time and effort to helping couples like us, through his Yahoo group - Friends of the Black Experience.
More than anyone, it was George who helped me bring my own desires to the surface by guiding me gently and compassionately. It was through his words and the pictures he shared with me that finally allowed me to understand and accept my needs.
It was through George, and my husband, that I came to understand how giving myself to a black man sexually really could be an expression of my love for my husband and would honor the vows we took together more fully than anything else I could do for him, or accept as a gift of his love to me.
The more I read the messages from George and talked to my husband about it, the more I began to see myself in the pictures of white women enjoying the essence of a black man, until finally the answer to the one question that had haunted me for so very long - DO I Want To Have Sex With A Black Man? - was answered with a resounding YES!
Then came the evening when I sat close to my husband, kissed him and whispered in his ear "Honey - will you please help me find just the right black man so I can share the fulfillment of my deepest sexual fantasy with you?" I will never forget that moment. I saw tears form as his love for me flooded his eyes. He took me in his arms and told me how much he loved me for honoring him this way. We sat there embracing each other for the longest time, saying nothing for nothing more needed to be said. I had never felt so much love emanating from my loving husband as I did then or more love for him warming me to the very core of my being.
I can't describe the wonderful time we had trying to decide on so many things:
Where should we meet? In town or out?
How tall should he be?
Should he be bald/shaved head or not?
How old should he be?
Should he be athletically fit or a cuddly teddy bear?
How dark should his skin be?
And of course the most delightful of questions requiring the most intense consideration and excitement for us both:
What length penis should he have?
How thick should it be?
Curved or straight?
Circumcised or Not?
Should his testicles be big and heavy or not?
Should he wear a condom - or not?
Should he cum and then go - or stay with us over night?
Having answered all those finally we began to communicate with black men as we searched for just the right man for us. Without exception they were all wonderfully respectful, and polite and it was not easy choosing from among them.
Finally we decided on what we agreed would be the perfect man for our very first black experience, and it was so incredible both of us can still see, hear, smell and feel everything that happened that day and we delight in reliving each and every moment.
Was I frightened? Was my husband concerned, and uncertain? Oh my yes. In fact both of us stopped breathing when our first black man began to penetrate into me and it wasn't until his beautiful black cock was fully buried deep inside me that either of us could take a breath again.
Once begun, it didn't take long to verify for ourselves that only through the act of giving myself freely and willingly to a black man could we both experience the freedom of truly sharing the passions, and joys, that comes from the release of a secret fantasy, and the sexual hunger that had been buried deep within me for so very long. In complete truth this could not have been accomplished any other way.
So is it true? Once you go black you never go back? Perhaps, if that's the way you want it to be. For myself sex with my husband is something even more special, exciting and satisfying than it had been before.
By freely, honestly and openly sharing every thought, every detail of the black experience truly is something so very intimate that you can share with each other forever. For both the husband and the wife it is the most precious gift that can be given to the person they love. I wish I had words to express how much true joy interracial sex can bring into the lives of a happily married couple.
It is my sincere hope that by reading this you and the one you love will begin to understand that the interracial experience I speak of is not something perverse, or the meandering or the delusions of sick, twisted minds as I had first suspected. It is the most precious and intimate of experiences.
While it would be so very easy to keep all this to ourselves instead of writing this, I feel it is something we must share. And if we can help others find the joy we have discovered then the beauty this experience has brought into our lives will grow a hundred fold.
It is in this spirit that we offer our willingness to accept the honor and responsibility to respond honestly and openly with anyone who wishes to contact us.
