The perfect first (public) date?

Our first black Bull, Charlie, collects my wife for their first proper date, from our beautiful Cheltenham home.



He sits and waits impatiently in our living room, as my wife puts the finishing touches to her outfit, with my assistance.



He has told her how to dress tonight.



A skin tight minidress. Black. Classy. No underwear. Thigh high black suede fuck me boots from Jimmy Choo. I have splashed out on the boots, as a date night treat.



My wife’s hair is in a high pony tail. She has heavy makeup and her Smokey eyes look like a porn star.



When she no longer needs my assistance, I head downstairs and nervously fetch Him a beer. He takes it.



We wait.



I try to make small talk. Charlie is courteous, but clearly disinterested.



He has one thing on his mind.



My wife. His slut.



After what feels like an age, my wife walks into our living room.



I have never seen her look so sexy. Classy, as always. But also just the right amount of slutty.



She doesn’t even look at me.



She totters towards her Bull and does a little twirl for him. Then she asks him if she looks ok. I can tell she is desperate to please him.



Charlie smiles.



And nods.



“Perfect.”



He says.



My wife giggles.



I spot her beautiful green eyes dart briefly, as she has a little peak at his crotch.



He has tight trousers on and no underwear. His cock is lying to one side of them. Clearly visible. Soft. But huge.



He stands. Swigs the rest of his beer and hands me the empty bottle. I take it. And instinctively thank him.



This man is in my house. Drinking my beer. About to fuck my wife. And I thank him. I’m such a beta cuckold, I think to myself. No wonder my wife has been having affairs from the moment we started dating.



He takes her hand and he kisses her. He looks much taller than me. My wife lifts up one leg behind her as he kisses her. It looks like she is melting in his embrace.



She no longer kisses me like that. I wonder if she ever did.



When they break for air, he slaps my wife’s bubble butt playfully and says “Good slut.”



My wife smiles. Her Bull approves.



“Thank you, Daddy.”



With that, they both leave.



He is taking her for dinner and drinks tonight. They have fucked lots of times, but this is their first public date. As a couple, of sorts. He has decided to take her to Morans on the Bath Road, where all of the staff know both me and my wife. It is our local wine bar in fact.



Tonight my wife will enter Morans with another man on her arm. A muscular, handsome black man.



She will be hanging off his every word. Flirting. She will make no pretence that this is anything other than a hot date with a black Bull.



When she and I visit next time. The staff will no doubt be whispering. Gossiping. Does Hugo know? That his wife is fucking a black man?



Tonight is the night that he will publicly claim my wife as his slut.



He doesn’t give a fuck what the staff think. This man is a true alpha. My wife is his black cock slut now.



I sit at home. My head spinning. My stomach in knots.



When they eventually return, some hours later, they are both slightly *******.



I have done exactly as instructed. I have bathed. And earlier in the day I have been to get my body waxed smooth. Legs. Ass. Back.



I am naked, except for my cock cage and a pair of pink Victoria’s Secret frillies. I stand there. Tottering in a pair of clear stripper heels.



Humiliated.



I wait in the kitchen as they fumble with the side door.



I have a silver platter in my hands. With a bottle of chilled Prosecco on it. And three glasses.



As humiliated as I am, I am also happier than at any other point in my life. I will be joining my wife and her Bull for late night drinks. And who knows, maybe Charlie will ask me to join them both in bed?



Sadly not.



He sits down and my wife sits on his lap. She has taken to doing this often. Even when we are out and about.



One of his large hands rests on my wife’s bare, tanned thigh. Her legs look amazing.



I bring the silver tray over. Wobbling in my 7” strippers heels.



I pour the first glass. Handing it to her Bull.



I pour a second glass. Handing it to my wife.



Before I can pour the third glass, Charlie stops me.



“Kneel, cuck”



He says.



I gulp.



Then kneel.



He shifts my wife from his lap and removes her hand from the bulge in his unopened trousers. She has been slowly stroking it from the moment she sat on his lap. Another habit she has picked up lately.



He takes the third glass from my tray and unzips his trousers.



An enormous black snake flops from his zipper.



I stare at it. Then look at my wife.



She’s giggling.



So that’s what 11.5 inches looks like.



Charlie pulls the skin back on his now semi-hard cock. It is glistening. It has clearly been inside my wife at some point already this evening. I wonder how that could have happened? Maybe he took her from behind outside Morans, I think to myself.



He then wipes his fat cock head around the rim of my empty glass.



He picks up the half empty bottle of Prosecco and begins to pour it. Slowly. Deliberately. Along the length of his magnificent cock and into the third glass.



My glass.



The glass fills, slowly.



My wife is giggling even more now.



When my glass is almost full he stops pouring.



He dips the head of his cock fully into the glass. It barely fits.



I stare.



Bubbles from the prosecco begin to form, clinging to his enormous helmet.



My heart beats.



He removes his cock and turns towards my wife. Without even asking, she begins to lick it, cleaning the Prosecco bubbles from his beautiful shiny cock. He has trained her well.



As she busily licks him, he hands me my glass.



“******* up cuck. Go get your bedroom ready. Light some candles. And lay the collar and leash neatly on the bed. You will be sleeping in the spare room tonight.”



I sip my Prosecco.



My heart beating even faster.



I have never been happier.



“Breakfast in bed tomorrow, cuck.”



He adds, as I totter out of the room in my way too high heels, to prepare our bed for them both.



“Yes, Sir. What time?”



I reply.



No answer.



I turn to look, to see why he has not answered me.



My wife is on her knees, with her head between his legs, hungrily sucking on his massive black cock. Marcel has her high ponytail gripped tightly in his hand, throat fucking her. Pushing his head against the very back of her skull. I can see it has snakes down inside her pretty neck, stretching her choker.



He is concentrating. And whispering words of encouragement.



“You’re such a good girl. Daddy is so proud of his slut.”



I love her so much, I think to myself, as I leave to make our bedroom pretty for them both.



More now than ever.



My wonderful black cock slut.
 
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