Meeting Kindred Spirits

Meeting Kindred Spirits

By DontJudgeMe_

One day I just wanted to write some freaking porn. An over-the-top, unapologetic stroke story. Short and with nothing but sex. No characters, no development.

People seemed upset that Jia from How Far is Too Far? never got a BBC, so I decided to write a black cuck story. Not with Jia, not sure how to shoehorn it in there.

I'm not really sure what happened, but somewhere around the middle it got away from me. So it's not short, and I couldn't stop myself from shoving some characters and feelings into it...

But it's still over-the-top, and it's still about black cuckolding - so I managed some of the original goals.

I don't know. I think it turned out kinda hot. If you're into that kind of thing. If you're not, please stop reading.

---

"Oh my God! So fucking BIG!"

Hank watched with rapt attention as his wife lowered herself down on the big, black cock. He couldn't look away, didn't want to look away. It was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Her mouth was agape, her eyes wide open, her naked chest was rising and falling rapidly - her entire being radiated pleasure and desire.

Caleb, her large, black lover, looked up at her with a self-satisfied grin, bright enough to power a city. No doubt the man basked in his conquest of the sexy, white wife. His large, strong hands held her around the waist, stabilizing her, guiding her, controlling her. The sight of the dark fingers against his wife's creamy skin was eerily captivating to her aroused husband.

Though not as much as her pretty, pink pussy slowly, inevitably and joyfully yielding to his large, dominant cock. Mercilessly, it stretched his wife, sliding into her inch by inch, while she gasped and moaned and clearly loved it.

"Man, I think your wife is starting to like black cock," Caleb grinned at Hank, his dark eyes sparkling with triumph. Hank didn't answer; he merely nodded, staring open-mouthed at the couple.

All three of them were naked. Allison and her lover Caleb in the marital bed, Hank sitting in a comfortable chair next to it. Hank was slowly working his hard dick, constantly fighting the desire to just let loose and jack off. He had to pace himself, he had to last.

He needed to be ready when Caleb was done with his wife.

"I fucking love your black cock," Allison gasped. She was slowly moving her body back and forth, grinding that big sausage inside her.

Stick a black cock in her and she became as foul-mouthed as a sailor. What would the ladies at church think if they could hear her now? Or, Hank mused as he watched her grind on Caleb, if they could see her now.

Outraged, probably. Or maybe the old prudes would line up to get a turn.

"Got a proper black cock slut out of you, huh?" Caleb grinned, his tone infinitely smug. He reached up and fondled her white breasts and pinched her hard nipples.

"Yes..." Allison sighed. Whether in agreement or just because she liked his attention on her nipples was anyone's guess, but Hank assumed it was both. The hungry expression on her face showed him that she didn't mind either. Her loud moans gave him a pretty good clue too.

She was beautiful. Hank couldn't help but admire her feminine charms - her lush, golden hair, already coming undone from the sleek, half-up style she'd had it in when Caleb came to visit. It bounced around her face as she gradually rode her black lover faster and faster.

Her make-up wasn't as subtle as what she usually wore - dark, heavy eyeshadow, long, fake lashes and thick, red lipstick, all giving her the look that Caleb preferred.

A slut. A white slut.

A black hand snaked its way up to her neck and pressed her down, and she obliged obediently, bowing down until her soft, red lips met his in a long, intense kiss. It struck Hank right in the heart, seeing his wife give in to the demands of her brutish lover.

Caleb was not a handsome man, not in the traditional sense. He had a strong, powerful body, certainly, with clearly defined muscles - Allison had been gushing about his arms, his shoulders, his abs since the first time she met him. But his face was coarse, with a broad nose, thin lips and a high hairline.

Not a handsome man at all, and his rough looks really should have barred him from getting anywhere near the sophisticated woman who was currently kissing him. Allison was an assistant professor and worked at the university, as clever as she was beautiful... and now she was admitting to being nothing but a slut while moaning with wild abandon into the mouth of her personal trainer, like the most overused cliché in the world.

It was enough to make Hank's brain explode. Or his dick at least. Once again, he had to force his hand off himself, to avoid blowing his load out into the air. That would be a tad too embarrassing.

The pair on the bed fucked and made out, while Allison's moans grew louder and more insistent into the wide mouth of her lover.

"Look at your husband," Hank caught the black man whisper into the ear of his wife. Allison turned her head and glanced at him. Her eyes were filled with arousal, but a small, loving smile played at her lips when their eyes met.

"He likes that you're a black cock slut too, don't you think?" Caleb wasn't bothering to lower his voice anymore.

"Uh-huh," Allison agreed, still riding that fat cock. Her eyes slid down to her husband's hard dick that he was once again stroking slowly, carefully. Precum was oozing from it, smearing his hand with its stickiness, but he didn't care. He was too engrossed in the vision before him.

"Tell him what you are," Caleb commanded, thrusting hard up into her, almost making her lose her balance. Only his strong hands on her kept her in place.

"Oh honey! I'm a slut for black cock! I'm a white slut who needs to get fucked by a big... black COCK!" Assistant professor McCarty, who commanded her classrooms with absolute authority, cried the last word. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me with that big, black cock!"

While Caleb's eyes shone victoriously and Hank stared in silent awe, Allison's entire body shook and twisted while cries of passion were torn from her mouth. Her orgasm was a thing of terrifying beauty, at least to her husband, who had never made her cum like this.

"AH! AH! AH!" she cried loudly.

She kept riding him hard while she moaned and gasped, screeching her orgasm out for her lover and husband to hear. Her fit, white body bounced quickly, and Hank's eyes were glued to her, loving her more now than ever. He wished he could give this to her, but watching her experience this ecstasy was enough for the horny husband.

"You like that, don't you? Don't you?" Caleb demanded and grabbed a swinging breast, squeezing it tightly. Hank almost winced in pain, but Allison only twisted her face in desire.

"Yes! Yes, I dooo!" she freely admitted, still in the throes of orgasm.

"Take that black cock, slut! You're mine now!"

"Yesss... I want it!" she only agreed. The words lodged themselves somewhere deep in Hank's mind. You're mine now.

He swallowed, unable to take his eyes away from her.

Sweat was pouring down her body, giving her a sexy gleam that her husband loved. Secretly, he'd have liked nothing more than to lick her clean, but he stayed in his chair. Like a good husband.

Like a good cuck.

Slowly, the beautiful woman calmed down. Her almost violent spasms stopped, and she rested, still with that enormous black tool embedded in her. The sight of her once-tight pussy getting split open was something he would remember to the end of his days.

Hank watched his wife, limp as a ragdoll, stare down at her powerful lover, her glazed eyes full of awe and wonder - the same awe and wonder he himself felt.

"I think this white bitch is beginning to understand." The cocky, young man turned to the horny husband with a grin. "Or what do you say, hubby?"

Hank wet his lips nervously. A husband should defend his wife and her honour, of course, and ordinarily he'd be the first to call out anyone using such language. But this was not ordinary.

"I... I think you're right, Caleb," he said instead and felt a sycophantic smile spread across his lips.

"So, Allison," the black man said and looked up at his newest lover, "where does the black cock go?"

It was such a crass question, such a juvenile, asinine question that Hank felt embarrassed for his wife. But where he'd expected the same kind of embarrassment from her, she just smiled, still with that hazy expression on her face.

"The black cock goes in my white pussy," she answered. Hank felt a hand of anxiety squeeze his heart at his wife's words, while his dick was close to erupting. They'd roleplayed these kinds of scenarios for years, of course, but it was so... so real!

"Fucking right it does," Caleb laughed, and the married couple joined him, though Hank couldn't really see the humour.

Suddenly, the black man under his wife seemed to have had enough. With quick, sudden movements, he sat up and rolled, taking the unprepared wife with him. They ended up with her on her back and him on top of her. A surprised whoop escaped her, mixed with her brilliant laughter.

"Now it's my turn!" her large lover proclaimed in a hungry voice.

And then the fucking began.

Hank had thought they'd been fucking before, but it was nothing next to this. The virile, black man hammered that oversized pole into her with enough force to shake the bed. Her laughter turned into a scream in seconds, and Hank was about to jump up and help her.

"Yes!" she cried. "FUCK! Gimme that BLACK COCK!"

Oh. Nevermind then. With disbelieving eyes, her husband sat down again, staring at the spectacle in front of him. The confidence of that black beast, the sheer strength, the unrivalled prowess... it was enough to drive him out of his mind.

"God! God! God!" Allison gasped again and again, as the huge cock drove into her.

"Take it! Take my black cock!"

"Yes! Yes, God! Again! I'm cumming AGAIN!" Hank watched in awe as his wife thrashed under the continued onslaught, her body unable to remain still while pleasure rushed through it.

He moved his chair a little, so he could see her face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth wide open, her face radiating intense bliss, like nothing he'd ever seen before. Or... not before tonight, at least.

Hank knew that Allison needed a break after an orgasm. Not to brag, but he'd given her more than one before too, nothing special about that. Well, granted, not as powerful, not as mind-shattering. The point was that he knew she needed a short - or not so short - cooldown period in between her orgasms. He fully expected Caleb to slow down, to take it easy.

Of course, he was mistaken. From the look of the strong man, nothing short of an earthquake would stop this onslaught. The porn-sized cock kept thrusting into the snug pussy that yielded to it, and Allison's screech didn't diminish.

Again, Hank pondered if he should interfere. Except his wife wrapped her limber legs around her lover, crossing her ankles, making sure he didn't go anywhere, that he kept fucking her. His wife wasn't just allowing her lover to continue. She was making sure he did.

"Whose pussy is this?" Caleb all but snarled when her loud noises had subsided to a series of lustful moans. "Whose?"

"It's yours! It's your pussy!" Hank heard his wife declare. He hardly believed his ears, but from Allison's expression, she meant every word.

It tore at Hank's heart, but he'd never felt more alive. He'd never been more in love.

"My white pussy?" Caleb grunted. "Not your white husband's?"

Sweat was pouring down his muscular back, but he kept the pace, kept the rhythm, kept hammering into Hank's wife.

"Nooo!" Allison gasped. "He... He doesn't have a BIG, BLACK COCK!"

"And that's all that matters to a white bitch like you, ain't it? Ain't it!?" Caleb demanded.

"Yeeeeesss!" she cried, a long, drawn-out cry, and Hank was pretty sure she came again.

Caleb seemed satisfied with her answer and fucked her. And fucked her. The man was a machine! The orgasms melded together, but Hank counted at least four more.

Towards the end, Allison lost her energy and lay like a used doll, but her black bull didn't seem to care. He kept hammering into her while Hank watched.

Finally, Caleb's movements became more... uncontrolled, more sporadic. Sweat was pouring down his face, but his eyes never left the beautiful, white wife beneath him.

"Take it! Take it! Take it!" he grunted, almost like a chant. And she did, accepting his long, thick cock as it slid in and out of her.

"Fucking take my cum! White slut!"

"Yes! Give it to me! I need it! I want-" Allison begged, but Caleb interrupted her with a loud, prolonged groan, sounding like a wounded beast. His jaw clenched as he jammed himself as deep into his new, white slut as possible. She gave a last moan as he collapsed on top of her.

All three of them were locked in the moment; Hank staring awe-struck at the couple on the bed, the black lover resting spent on his newest conquest and the fulfilled wife revelling in her sexual high.

Finally, Caleb rolled off her and stepped out of the bed. "Your turn now, buddy," the tall man laughed and gave him a condescending pat on the shoulder. Hank startled, realizing he'd been staring at the other man's impressive cock and blushed profoundly. He wasn't gay or anything, but... it was amazing. So long and thick, completely covered in a mix of its own and Allison's juices. It swung freely as Caleb strutted toward the bathroom, buck-naked and unashamed. Well, Hank wouldn't have been either, if he had such a body, if he'd just left another man's wife quivering in pleasure.

"Yes! Yes..." Hank turned his attention to his wife who was watching him with a lazy, satisfied smile. She was lying where Caleb had left her, her legs lewdly spread, her naked body his to admire. Covered by a sheen of sweat, she was the most beautiful woman in the world to Hank. Her hair was in wild disarray, red marks were covering her body where her lover had been overly forceful, and a dreamy expression was plastered on her face.

Slowly, Hank crawled up to her.

"I love you," he whispered. It felt too intimate, too real to say out loud.

"Still?" she asked, though she didn't look worried.

"Always." His voice was tender and loving, just like his lips when he kissed her. Caleb could be rough and demanding, but Hank would always be gentle with the love of his life.

"Make love to me," she asked him. And he didn't need to be told twice. Moving in between her legs, he slid into her without a problem.

She felt different, so different. Never before had she been so wet, coated as she was by the black man's cum. Never before had she been so stretched, used as she'd been by the massive cock that drew even his attention.

It was mind-blowing. Reclaiming his beautiful wife, retaking possession of his bride was as good as he'd imagined.

She gave a small moan, the slightest acknowledgment that he was inside her. Compared to the screams she'd given Caleb, it was so little, but it sent a bolt of arousal through the loving husband.

He'd feared she would feel loose and slack, and while she wasn't the same as earlier in the day, she still felt wonderful, just wonderful. He'd been on the verge of orgasm for... well, however long since it was that Caleb entered his wife. And now he had no chance to hold it any longer.

"Allison..." he gasped. She looked up at his scrunched-up face, seeing his desperation.

"Cum, my love," she whispered. "Cum in me. Give it to me. I need it. I want it..." Her words echoed what she'd cried to Caleb, and it was too much for her husband, as pleasure exploded through him.

"Yes...! Ngggh!" he grunted, jamming his dick as deep into her as he could. His seed flooded into her, mixing with Caleb's in their quest for her egg. Not that they'd have much success, seeing as she was on the pill.

"God..." he panted, finally managing to relax after hours of stress. He looked into the beautiful eyes of his wife and then he kissed her. Connecting his lips to hers, he poured his love and desire into her, and she returned it in equal measure.

"How are you feeling?" she asked in a concerned voice.

"Great. Wonderful. It was... it was different than I had imagined, but it was great. So sexy! You're amazing, simply amazing." Hank was aware that he was rambling, but he couldn't stop.

"Glad to hear it," a deep voice chuckled behind him, and he looked up - way up - at his wife's lover. Hank's lips parted in a weak smile.

"I'd be sad if this was the only time I enjoyed your lovely wife," he went on, still with that confident grin. His eyes roamed over Allison admiringly.

"Oh Caleb," she purred and waved him away with a naughty grin. Hank had a strange feeling of being the third wheel, but he found it extremely arousing at the same time. His eyes returned to the black snake that hung between Caleb's legs, and he noticed that Allison's attention flickered to it as well.

The well-trained man had a thoughtful expression as he took in his new cuckold-couple.

"There's something I wanna talk to you about though," the black bringer of white orgasms said slowly, pursing his lips. "I know this other couple. They're a lot like you, actually." He gave each of them a reassuring look, and Hank looked away, uncomfortable. Why was he talking about others suddenly? Why was he ruining the afterglow?

"So?" he asked, and even to himself he sounded sullen.

"Relax, nothing dangerous. I was just thinking of the five of us having a little get-together. Some food, some wine, some white bitches getting black cock while their cuck-hubbies watch. Sound like something you'd be interested in?"

Hank exchanged a look with his wife before turning to her lover. "I... I'm not sure. I mean thanks for the invite, of course, but I just don't think..."

"Who is the other couple?" his wife asked.

"Hey, no worries," Caleb said to Hank, ignoring Allison's question. "Promise me you'll think it over, why don't you?" With that, he bent to pick up his discarded boxer-shorts. Hank watched intently as the massive black cock was covered up, almost missing the intimidating sight. More clothes covered his impressive physique, until he was fully dressed.

"I'd stay for another round, but I think your wife needs a break," the black bull joked to the man he'd so thoroughly cucked, and Allison giggled and nodded.

Reluctantly, Hank got up, put on a bathrobe and escorted the taller man to the door.

"I had a great time," Caleb said and held out his hand. Hank grabbed it, and they shook. The black man was perfectly respectable now, not at all the demeaning bull from the bedroom.

"Me... me too," the white man answered. Then almost as an afterthought. "Allison too."

Caleb laughed, not mocking, a good-natured laugh. "I should hope so. Now think about the invitation. I'm sure it will be great."

"Sure," Hank nodded, though it wasn't something he could ever see himself participating in. He closed the door behind the black man and went back to his wife. He needed her after everything that had happened.

---

"Hank McCarty, McCarty and Doyle Financial. How can I help?" Hank answered his phone in his most professional voice. It was Friday, almost a week after his and Allison's meeting with Caleb.

"Mr. McCarty, hello," a hesitant voice answered. It was a polished voice, the sort of voice Hank associated with private clubs, expensive lawyers and men who were accustomed to being listened to.

"My name is George. I'm a... eh... friend of Caleb King's," the smooth voice went on, still oddly reluctant.

Hank's breath caught and icy panic gripped his insides. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck! What was this? Blackmail? The man sounded older than him, educated, composed. Not like one of Caleb's gym buddies.

"Uh-huh?" Hank's voice remained calm, even if his heart was going hundred miles an hour and his brain was firing on all cylinders, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Uhm. Caleb told me he's eh... invited you and your wife to a little... get-together... at my house. He mentioned you were a little hesitant at accepting... his... invitation." To Hank, it sounded like the other man might be a little miffed at being told about the invitation after the fact.

"Look. George. I don't know what's going on, but I'm just not sure... that... that it's something I want to be part of."

"Hey, I get that. I do. It's all... it's all confusing, isn't it, son? Your wife and that... monster." The voice sounded strange, almost reverent. "But if you're like me, you got more out of it than you expected. And if your wife's anything like my Lydia, well, I can only imagine she's eager to see Caleb again."

"I... well, I..." Truth was that Allison had mentioned Caleb a couple of times since that fateful day. And always in a dreamy, gushing way.

They'd had a lot of sex since. And every time, one of them had brought up Caleb. Well, most of the time it'd been him. He couldn't help it - it was so sexy. Hearing her admit that the black man was the best lover ever, that he stretched her like no one else, that she wanted his big, black cock again... it did something to him.

But that didn't mean he was gonna dance to Caleb's tune. Not if it involved strangers.

To think that that asshole had given his number to some random guy! What was he playing at? He'd promised discretion!

"I know, I know," the stranger said with a chuckle, almost as if he could read Hank's thoughts. "You're thinking what the hell is going on, why is this outsider calling and talking about your sexlife, eh? But eh... Caleb really wants this little get-together to happen."

"Yeah?" Hank got a little pissed at that. So what if Caleb wanted it? He was just the bull. He didn't dictate their lives. "Well, Caleb's not in charge. If we don't want to go, we don't go."

"That's a very good sentiment, son. And I completely agree," George said, sounding genuine. "Just... make sure your wife sees it your way, hmm? Caleb... has a way of getting the women to see things his way. I don't know," he chuckled, "might be that giant club between his legs."

"Well, Allison and I see it the same way," Hank said firmly.

Didn't they? For the first time, he realised he wasn't entirely sure.

"Okay. Well, I tried. Thank you for your time, Hank. May I call you Hank?"

Hank shrugged. "Sure. Good day, George."

"Alright, Hank. I won't bother you again."

There was a brief silence.

"Unless your wife changes her mind..."

---

And that was that. Or so Hank thought.

Because a couple of days later, he got home from work to see Allison wearing this sexy red dress. Not indecent in itself, but the bra she wore underneath made her tits practically spill out her neckline.

Hank stopped in the doorway. He looked at her. Then at the dress. Then back at her.

"Oh my," he muttered and was on her in a minute. Bending down, kissing her, letting his hand slide down her back.

"Hey honey," she smiled and put the phone away. "Had a good day?"

"Not until now," he muttered and kissed her neck.

"That's too bad," she sighed. "Oh, I talked to Caleb in the gym today." Her words sent a bolt of intrigue through him. Were they perhaps planning another date-night?

"Oh yeah? What did our bull have to say?" He inhaled deeply, taking in her soft scent. God, she was divine. The image of her on her knees for her muscular trainer entered his mind, causing a strong reaction in his pants.

"He was quite enthusiastic about this get-together with the other couple," she said. Hank stiffened.

"What?"

"Yeah. Why not?" she shrugged.

Hank stood up and looked down at his beautiful wife. His beautiful, clever wife who had a questioning look in her eyes.

"Allison, we said no. Why can't he let it go?" he frowned.

She bit her lip and avoided his gaze. "He really wants to. He was quite... insisting."

"Insisting? So were we. When we said no."

"As I recall," she said coolly, "you were the only one who said no." There was something in her gaze, something Hank couldn't read. He met her clear, blue eyes.

Oh.

"I thought we agreed. I thought..." he tried, sitting down next to her.

"Well, maybe you should ask me next time." Her voice was neutral, but there was still that something about her.

"Allison. You can't be serious. I mean, Caleb is bad enough, but strangers-"

"Bad enough? What do you mean, bad enough?" she interrupted him.

"I don't know. I mean, it's... it's a little weird, don't you think? What... what we do?" Hank suddenly had a feeling of standing in the middle of a mine-field, with no idea how he got in there and absolutely no clue as to how to get out without blowing something up.

"I see." That's what Allison always said when he'd just said something that royally pissed her off. Or as she'd put it, something that upset to a severe degree.

"No, honey, I didn't-"

"No no." Her voice had gone cold. "I think it's great to know that you think I'm weird."

That wasn't what he'd said, and it certainly hadn't been what he meant!

"Honey, please. I didn't mean-"

"I think I'd better get started on dinner." She rose, chin lifted and walked toward the kitchen. Hank couldn't help but watch that tight little ass move in her clinging dress while he wondered what had gone wrong.

What had he said?

---

He managed to apologise and make clear that he in no way, shape or form thought that she was weird. There was nothing weird about her getting dicked down by an extramarital black monster-cock, nothing at all. And yes, it was impressive that she could rise above the patriarchal expectations and enjoy the liberation of sex (well, those were her words. She was the professor, after all).

Unfortunately, she'd changed out of that delightful dress and into a frumpy nightgown, and even if he'd managed to thaw her somewhat, there was obviously no hanky-panky tonight.

Or the next. Or the day after. He tried bringing it up, but she just 'wasn't in the mood'. Which was fair, of course, except he had a feeling it was deliberate.

"What's the matter, honey?" he tried on the third day. "You seem different." 'Different' being code for suddenly frigid - which he couldn't say, of course.

They were in bed, and she'd just shut down his attempt at intimacy.

She sighed and gave him an honest look. "Caleb said there won't be any more dates until we've agreed to meet with his other couple," she said.

"Oh." Hank frowned. Why was Caleb so pushy?

Actually, fuck. What was wrong with that guy? The nerve! To demand that they participate in a... a... well, whatever it was he wanted.

"Well, now we know," Hank muttered, his voice dark. "We can start looking for someone else."

Allison shot him an unpleasant look. It had taken long enough to bring her around to sleep with her trainer - were they about to start over from scratch?

"What do you take me for? Some sort of trollop? I'm not going to take a random man you find on the internet into my bed!" she exclaimed. "How little do you think of me?"

Oh. Fuck.

"Honey, I didn't mean it like that," he quickly said.

"Save it, Hank. I'm not interested." Demonstrably, she turned her back on him, pretending to go to sleep.

Hank sat a little, calming down, trying to think through it all.

"Well, what do you think we should do?" he asked.

"Nothing." Well, what a productive answer. He sighed and sank down in the bed, trying to sort his thoughts. What did he want?

"Don't you see he's manipulating us?" he tried.

"Of course, I see it," she retorted angrily. "Making non-negotiable demands is hardly a subtle method for establishing a relationship."

Okay. That didn't help him. Deep breaths. Calm breaths. He closed his eyes, trying to gauge his own feelings.

It bothered him that Caleb was making demands. It irked him to his core, and he couldn't help but think less of the man for it.

Buuut... now that he'd seen his cool ice-queen of a wife surrender so completely, could he really give that up? Did he want to go back to the way things were?

The silence in the room stretched. Both the McCartys were weighing their options.

"Okay," Hank finally breathed.

"Okay?" Allison turned to look at him.

"Let's do this... this party-thing. If you want to."

A crooked smile appeared on her lips. Then she crawled across the bed and kissed him, a deep, heartfelt kiss that warmed him to his toes.

And when she took his dick in her mouth, he couldn't understand why he'd even tried to resist.

---

"It's a fucking mansion," Hank muttered as they parked in front of the garage. Caleb had given him the address - he hadn't spoken to the mysterious George since that awkward day on the phone.

He was exaggerating, though. The house was large, modern and undoubtedly expensive, with a low stone wall surrounding the property. The garden was immaculately kept, with mature trees and hedges. The garage was large, and there was room for several more cars where Hank and Allison had parked. But it was hardly a mansion.

Just a wealthy man's home. Something like Hank would like to own himself one day.

"We're moving up in the world," Allison remarked with a smirk as she stepped out of the car. Hank silently agreed but was also surprised that she didn't look the least bit nervous. He himself was wondering if it wasn't better to get the hell out of here. Nevertheless, he followed suit. The car door slamming behind him sounded strangely final, though he couldn't say why.

Probably just nerves.

They didn't say anything as they moved to the front door. It was large and imposing and looked like it would take a battering ram to bring down. But then again, rich people had to worry about security, right?

He rang the doorbell and suddenly pictured a snooty English butler opening, inquiring about their business. The tall, well-dressed fellow would then escort them into a living room, filled with the wildest debauchery, reminding them not to get fluids on the good Persian rug.

Christ, this was all insane.

The door opened, and luckily it was not a character from an English drama. Rather, it was a handsome man in his fifties, wearing a loose, comfortable shirt and chinos. He looked well-groomed, with thinning, greyish hair and a short silver-grey beard.

"Hank. Allison. Welcome!" He held out a hand to each of them in turn, and they both shook it.

Hank muttered something unintelligible, but Allison smiled her wide, pleasant smile.

"So good to meet you, Mr. Caldwell. And what a beautiful house."

"Thank you. But please! Call me George. No need to stand on ceremony. Especially not since we eh... share interests." He laughed at that, a nervous, embarrassed sound. Maybe Hank was not the only one having some trouble coming to terms with his... desires.

"Come in, come in." He gestured them inside and helped Allison with her coat.

She was wearing a sleek, powder-blue dress underneath that matched her eyes perfectly. It was beautiful, highlighting her figure without being vulgar. It reached her knees and left her arms bare.

Her dirty-blonde hair fell just past her shoulders in soft, glossy Hollywood waves. A deep side part gave the style an elegant asymmetry, with the fuller side swept over one shoulder in large curls. The waves were smooth and polished, and Hank knew the look was the result of an hour's painstaking work.

"If you don't mind me saying, your beauty graces my house," George grinned, admiring Hank's wife.

Allison tilted her head, obviously pleased with his reaction, and sent him a coquettish smile. "Aren't you the charmer?"

"Beautiful women bring out the best in me. But don't worry, my boy," he said, turning to Hank with a wink. "I have enough in my Lydia. Your Allison is quite safe from me." Something dark passed across his face, and his smile lost its spark. "Of course I'm not the one you need to worry about."

Allison glanced at Hank. Hank glanced back. Neither of them said anything, but a small smile appeared on her lips.

"But come on in. She's in the kitchen, but she's been dying to meet you." He led the way, and his guests saw little choice but to follow.

In the kitchen, they found a woman in a deep green dress looking into the oven. When she heard them enter, she straightened and turned around, flashing a dazzling smile at her guests.

Lydia Caldwell was a striking woman. It was impossible to determine her age, though Hank was sure she was past forty, but she evidently took great care of herself. Flawless, smooth skin, a shade darker than her husband's. Glossy and perfectly styled dark auburn-red hair; the rich, even colour made it obvious that it was professionally done. Her make-up was elegant and understated, drawing attention to her smoky eyes and high cheekbones without going overboard.

The green dress fitted her figure beautifully and matched her emerald eyes effortlessly. She was curvy in a distinctly feminine way, with a narrow waist, soft hips and a generous bust, and the dress managed to emphasise all three while keeping the overall look elegant.

She carried herself with an effortless confidence that made Hank straighten slightly without even realising it.

She looked like a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it - and never once apologised for it.

"Lydia," George said, gesturing toward her. "These are Hank and Allison McCarty."

Her smile widened as she approached.

"It's lovely to finally meet you," she said. She shook Hank's hand with a grip firmer than he would have believed. Then she moved on to Allison, ignored her half-outstretched hand and embraced her in a tight hug.

Hank could see Allison stiffen in surprise before hugging her back.

"It smells divine, Mrs. Caldwell," Allison said when the other woman released her.

"Please. Lydia," she corrected her, just like her husband had. "And thank you. It's almost done, I think. Wouldn't you say?" The two women moved to the oven and peeked inside, leaving their husbands to try to find something to say.

"Beautiful house," Hank said, looking admiringly at the high ceiling and making a point of not looking at Lydia and Allison, who both were bending over to peer into the oven.

"Thank you, thank you," George nodded. "Lydia did most of the decorating. I just paid for it."

"Ahem." Both men stared at George's wife who cast him a meaningful look. "Did you pay for all of it, George?"

"Damn that sharp hearing of hers," George muttered under his breath, before flashing a grin at his wife. "Lydia is the COO at Falkner & Co. downtown and spent quite a bit of her own money on this kitchen. Though I did pay for the entire second floor." The last was added a bit louder at his wife, though with a hearty grin. She smiled back, nodding her agreement.

"You gotta keep your man in line. Otherwise he'll claim he did everything himself," she said to Allison who laughed.

Hank managed to force a laugh too. Thank God, he and Allison didn't have that kind of problem; although he was far from as successful as the Caldwells, he still made substantially more than his wife.

The women seemed to agree that everything was going according to plan with the food and moved on to discussing and comparing their dresses - Allison's powder-blue one with the moderately deep cut, showing the top of her cleavage against Lydia's high-necked but clingy green. They both appeared to admire the other woman's taste.

Hank, meanwhile, tried to think of something to say to George. Something more personal than remarks about the house and less fawning than his admiration for the obvious wealth evident throughout the house.

"I like your shirt," George grinned. Hank blinked in surprise, until he understood that the older man was joking about the women's clothes-talk. He grinned back.

"Thanks. Love your loafers."

George stuck his foot out to admire the soft shoe. "Yeah, they're great. Hate the stiff office shoes."

They both looked down at Hank's stiff and uncomfortable shoes and shared a quick smile. Then the silence returned, only interrupted by Lydia loudly praising Allison's hair-cut.

"Want a beer?" George finally asked.

"Uhm... yeah. Sure, why not?" Hank replied. "Gotta watch the alcohol though. I'm driving home."

"Ah. That'll be later though. Much later, I'm guessing," he said with a small wink. Then he fetched a couple of beers from the fridge and opened them. Hank accepted one and took a healthy sip. After George's little remark, he needed something to occupy himself. The beer was surprisingly good. Not bitter at all, but fresh and round.

"So... plastic surgeon. Must be exciting," Hank said, determined to keep the small talk going and not think about how much later he and Allison would return home.

"Well, I guess. Kinda inoculates you against boobs," George lamented. "Like, I can see a nice pair, right, and all I think about is what I'd do to enhance them."

"Oh. Really?" Hank frowned.

"Yeah." George shrugged.

Hank fought not to ask. Struggled as best he could. "What would you-?" he asked quietly, his eyes fixed on his wife's chest.

"Nothing much. You've got good volume and nice shape already. Maybe small implants with a moderate profile for some upper-pole fullness. Possibly combined with a lift to avoid sagging. Nothing dramatic."

"Uh-huh." Hank swallowed nervously, wondering what Allison would say if she heard. He'd always loved his wife's boobs, of course, but it was... interesting.

"Uhm... how much..." he croaked. George smiled, almost fatherly at him and clapped him on the back.

"Friends and family never pay full price. And besides... maybe someone else would be interested in this... project."

A shiver ran down his spine. It did not matter if Caleb wanted his wife to get a boobjob or not! He had nothing to do with that kind of decision.

But he didn't say anything. Just took another swig of his beer, without really tasting it.

"I've done some stuff on Lydia," George went on. "Maybe you'll get a chance to-"

Ding-dong!

The doorbell interrupted him, and silence immediately descended on the kitchen. Everyone was looking at each other; Hank and George nervously, but there was a palpable anticipation from their wives.

"Sounds like our guest of honour has arrived," George said and put his beer down. "I'll just go and..." His voice trailed off as he left the kitchen after a last look at his wife.

Hank's eyes sought Allison's and she smiled reassuringly at him, and he relaxed - a little, at least.

Then he arrived. Caleb, large and imposing, entered the kitchen, followed by George. He wore a tight white shirt and faded jeans. The tall black man took in the women and Hank, his teeth flashing white in his broad face.

"Lydia," he said and stepped up to the older woman, "how is it that you grow more beautiful every time I see you?"

"Oh, Caleb," the composed woman said, "you're incorrigible." But everyone could see the red spots on her cheeks and the smile in the corner of her mouth. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug... a hug that lasted way longer than was appropriate.

"And Allison. I can definitely see you've been keeping up with your training." His gaze swept down the pretty blonde, and she straightened, pushing out her chest.

"I try to do as you showed me," she said, her eyes glittering. She too got a hug, a long, intense one.

Finally Caleb turned to Hank. He could feel his heart pounding, expecting a sarcastic comment, a sneering put-down. The black man had won, after all, and pushed Hank and Allison to participate in this... this... whatever it was going to be.

"So glad you decided to join us," Caleb smiled and held out a hand. There was no triumph, no malice in his words or expression. The other man really did seem pleased to see him.

"Uhm... you too," Hank muttered and shook his hand. A firm, respectful handshake - Caleb didn't even use his considerable strength to crush his hand.

"We were just getting to know each other," George piped in. "Do you want a beer, Caleb?"

"That would be great, George. Thanks."

He got a beer and quite naturally wandered to the women, leaving Hank and George to study the scene. Hank couldn't help but notice how both wives seemed eager to attract Caleb's attention. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but he was fairly sure Allison didn't usually flutter her eyelashes like that.

"He's got a way with them, doesn't he?" George asked quietly. His attention was glued to Lydia as she laughed at something Caleb said.

"Hmm." Hank didn't have anything to add. He just couldn't tear his eyes off his wife.

He had a feeling that that would become a recurring theme throughout the night.

"George, would you be a dear and take the duck out? It should be done now," Lydia asked and her husband rushed to obey.

"Mhm, Lydia, you've done it again," Caleb said. "It smells delicious."

"Well, I had help, you know. Meredith did most of the preparation before she went home. I just followed her instructions."

Wearing a pair of oven mitts, George lifted the dish out of the oven.

"Thank you, dear. Take it into the dining room, please. And Hank, would you take the potatoes? The platter on the stove." Lydia was directing him too now, but it never occurred to him to object. He just did as he was told.

The dining room was every bit as elegant as the kitchen. A large, solid-wood table occupied the centre of the room, surrounded by eight upholstered chairs in muted, neutral fabric. Hank half-expected an old-fashioned chandelier to light the room, but it was a large, modern pendant light.

Tall windows along one wall overlooked the darkened garden, while a low sideboard stood against the opposite wall, decorated with photographs and a single tall candle.

Everything was tasteful and expensive without being ostentatious. It was clearly a room meant for entertaining - and for showing off the hosts' wealth and taste.

The table was already set with five plates; three on one side of the table, two on the other. George set down the dish in the middle of the table, and Hank found a spot for his platter.

"Now, Caleb, I figured you would sit here..." Lydia said and pulled out the chair in the middle seat. The only one that had two seats next to it. "And Allison and I will sit here." She indicated the two seats on either side of it.

Meaning Caleb would sit between the two wives, and their husbands would sit across from them. It gave Hank a strange kick to realise how deftly the woman had manipulated him and her husband out of the way. George shook his head with a smile and took his seat.

Hank didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so after a quick look at Allison - who seemed perfectly fine with the arrangement - he sat down next to George.

Seeing the black man sit between the two beautiful women gave Hank a churning feeling in his stomach. Not an unpleasant feeling, really. Not pleasant either. It was... it was...

Exciting.

The hosts passed the food around, and everyone dug in. And it really was great; tasty, moist and plentiful. Hank felt like a king, stuffing his mouth with the deliciously tender morsels.

Conversation was a little slow at first. Hank had only met Caleb twice - and last time, the tall, dark man had spent most of the time balls-deep in Hank's wife - and the Caldwells were complete strangers.

But they were nice people; despite their obvious wealth, they appeared interested in him and Allison, asked questions and made good conversation. Caleb told hilarious stories from the gym - like the chick who needed to lose ten pounds and get abs in a week because she was invited to a wedding. Or the guy who had read a stack of fitness books and spent his time correcting everyone else, even though he did half the exercises wrong himself.

The stories were silly, but Caleb told them in a funny way, and he had everyone at the table laughing. It helped, of course, that the wine flowed freely.

In fact, Hank enjoyed himself so much that it was quite a while before he realised that Lydia was eating one-handed. Her left hand - the one that was closest to Caleb - was hidden beneath the table.

He nearly choked on his wine when he figured it out. He turned his huge eyes from Lydia and the subtle movements of her left shoulder to George and then to Allison.

Who was also eating one-handed. Her right hand was hidden.

He stared at her. Was she-? Right here at the table?! In front of him and George?

Hank tried to catch her attention, but she was too intent on her food. Except when she was watching Caleb out of the corner of her eye...

In an instant, the comfortable atmosphere was gone - at least as far as Hank was concerned. Instead, that churning, gut-wrenching feeling was back, and he was almost afraid his hand would start to shake as he took another gulp of wine.

Caleb caught his eyes and gave a quick, subtle nod, making Hank draw a quick breath. What did that nod mean? That... that the women were...? No... surely not! The black man was messing with him.

But what if? This was all a very effective reminder; they were not here to enjoy a cozy afternoon. They were here for a very distinct purpose.

"I hope you have left room for dessert," Lydia's voice cut through Hank's musings, and he jolted back to reality.

"Oh, you know me, Lydia. I always got room for dessert," Caleb laughed. He reached out and put his arms around the two women next to him, pulling them closer. They both giggled and let him pull them against his broad chest.

"Me too," Allison said, but not in her usual tone. Instead, it had taken on a sensuality that Hank barely recognised. Everything was happening so fast!

"George, would you fetch the ice cream in the freezer? And would you be a dear and help him, Hank?" Lydia asked.

"Of course, my love," George said and stood. Again, how could Hank refuse? He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the unseemly reaction he'd had in his pants to everything that had happened and followed his host.

As he left the dining room, he heard his wife giggle again. It cut him like a knife, but the swelling in his pants didn't go down one bit.

"How are you holding up, sport?" George asked when they were alone in the kitchen. He didn't seem to be in a rush to find the dessert. Rather, he looked intently at Hank.

"I'm fine," he replied, ignoring the condescending 'sport'.

"I'm glad. You two have been with Caleb before, right?" he asked and went to the freezer in the corner.

"Uhm. Yeah. Once. But it was... it was... not like this." Hank failed to explain the difference, but George understood.

"More down and dirty, am I right?" George said and found a large bowl. "Meredith's homemade ice cream," he explained. "Could you grab us some bowls from the cupboard?" He pointed helpfully, and Hank found five bowls and avoided answering the question.

He placed them side by side, waiting for George, who still didn't seem to be in a hurry. "Aren't you gonna...?" he gestured at the icecream and the empty bowls.

"It's hard as stone right now. It's gotta thaw a bit," the older man answered. "But that's fine. It gives us a chance to catch up." He looked Hank right in the eyes. "So how are you really holding up?"

Hank almost said 'fine' again but stopped. "It's... different, yeah."

"Well, it's easy to see that she loves you," George said solemnly.

Okay, that was the last thing Hank had expected to hear.

"The way she looks at you. Yeah, Caleb's fun, but you're the one she's chosen. When you have a smart, beautiful woman look at you like that, you know you've done something right." George had a small smile on his lips. Like he knew what he was talking about. Like he remembered scenes from his own life.

Hank paused. He hadn't noticed Allison looking at him. Well, not a lot, at least.

"Trust me," the older man said. "Enjoy tonight - and let her enjoy it. You'll still have her love tomorrow."

"Uhm..." Hank had no answer to that.

"So, how's life in the financial world?" George's change of subject caught Hank off guard - again. Why couldn't they just have a normal conversation... one that he could follow without all these sudden turns?

"Decent enough," he shrugged once he had gathered his thoughts. "My friend Kevin and I started our own firm a couple of years ago. We're starting to get some stable clients, things are looking up."

"Good, that's good. Being your own boss is the best thing ever, am I right? Sure, it's hell on earth in the beginning, but once you get off the ground..."

Hank nodded. Seeing as he hadn't quite taken off yet, he could only hope the older man was right. They chatted about work, and Hank told him about some investments he'd made recently that had turned out very well for his clients. George nodded thoughtfully and congratulated him.

"That should be enough time," George finally said, using an ice cream scoop to dish out the dessert. "I think it's vanilla," he added. "A pity. I think the women prefer chocolate." He cast a glance at Hank to see him swallow nervously. "Would you grab the sauce from the fridge?"

They placed it all on a tray, and George carried it back into the dining room.

Where something had happened. Hank was sure of it. He could see it in the way the women were sitting, in Caleb's Cheshire grin, Allison's red cheeks, Lydia's confident smile. Hell, he could practically smell it.

He wasn't sure what, but something had gone down in here while he and George were getting dessert.

"Cheers, mates," Caleb said as Hank put a bowl down in front of him.

"Thank you," Allison said when she got hers. Lydia just smiled at him.

He had no idea what to do with himself. He couldn't ask if they had done something, could he? So he just sat down and grabbed his spoon.

"Oh, this is scrumptious!" Lydia sighed when she tasted the ice cream. Her face lit up with obvious pleasure, and she almost moaned. "Here, have some." And she dug out a big piece and fed it to Caleb. No, really. Right in front of her husband and guests, she put her spoon in the man's mouth, while looking intently at him.

"Mhm. Now that is good," he agreed. Hank blushed and looked away. It looked so intimate, so personal that he couldn't-

"You gotta try mine too," Allison said and held up a spoonful of ice cream for the black man. His big lips closed around it, and he sighed in delight.

Hank gaped. He could no longer look away.

He had watched his wife get fucked by this man, sure, but this was vastly different! Wasn't it?

"Just perfect," Caleb said, smiling warmly at Allison.

Hank glanced at George, who also was studying the scene in front of them. His eyes were burning, but he didn't look unhappy at all. Not at all.

Throughout the meal, Caleb never even lifted his own spoon. While George and Hank ate their ice cream - and it really was delicious - the women kept feeding the ugly, black man, giggling at his obvious pleasure and acting like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Hank couldn't stop staring. And the excited feeling in his stomach only grew and grew. His dick was rock-hard, but at the same time he had the urge to tear Allison away, to... to make her feed him ice cream instead of the stranger.

But he didn't. He just stared and ate from his own bowl.

"Oh! I almost forgot. We missed your birthday last week, Caleb. But I have a present for you," Lydia said, when her bowl was empty. "Honey, would you fetch it for me? It's on my desk." That last was said at George who got up and left the room without a word.

"Lydia... you shouldn't have," Caleb said, almost chiding, but with a wide smile.

"I know. But I wanted to." The woman straightened, half-turned toward him and practically thrust out her chest to him. The black man's eyes caressed her inviting bosom in her tight, green dress, and she smiled, pleased with his attention.

"Lydia's presents are always exquisite," Caleb told Hank, like he was bound to receive one himself some day. From the dismissive glance she cast him, however, he wouldn't hold his breath.

George returned, holding a small gift-wrapped parcel. He handed it to his wife who turned back to Caleb with her charming smile intact.

"Here you go. Happy belated birthday," she said, handing him the gift.

"Lydia..." Caleb shook his head in exaggeration - but tore the wrapping paper off nevertheless. A white box appeared with an image of a digital watch on the top and sides.

"It's a smartwatch," Lydia said, leaning in further. "You connect it to your phone and you can read messages on it, use your creditcard, use-"

"I know what a smartwatch is, Lydia," Caleb grinned overbearingly. "Half the people at the gym have one."

"Of course," Lydia said quickly. "And now you do too!"

How much did that watch cost, Hank wondered. More than his own, he realised, looking down at it. It was a strange realisation, and it didn't make him jealous - not exactly. But still. Caleb's clothes cost maybe 100 bucks, all in all - a lot less than Hank's. But now he had a crazy expensive watch - there was no doubt that Lydia had bought the most overpriced one she could find - and it changed something, though Hank wasn't sure what.

At Lydia's urging, Caleb took the watch out of the box, and she helped him put it on. It looked... odd on the black man's wrist. Its sleek, modern look clashed completely with the cheap fabric of his clothes. But Lydia loved it. She beamed and fussed over it, until Caleb took her face in his big, dark hands and looked her right in the eyes.

"Thank you very much, Lydia," he said earnestly. And then he kissed her. A deep, full kiss, right on her lips.

Hank could practically see how she just melted, and he quickly looked away. At George, who was staring enraptured. At Allison who looked on with a funny expression.

At the table, to avoid looking at anything.

"Yes. Well. You're certainly welcome." Hank looked back, and the kiss had ended. Lydia was gathering herself, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining.

"And now I think everyone's done eating," she went on. She exchanged a quick look with Allison, who nodded. "Allison and I need to freshen up. Boys," she turned to Hank and George, "please clear the table, you two. And Caleb," she gave him a warm smile, "as the man of the house, how about you go relax a little in the living room?"

Again with the menial service? And Caleb was the man of the house? Hank was finally about to protest, but George was quicker.

"Lydia-" he began.

"What? You think it's you? Just be happy I let you wear boxers and not panties tonight," she bristled in a haughty voice. Hank's jaw fell, and he flicked a glance at his new friend. George's face was beet-red, and he looked at his wife with his mouth hanging open.

"Please, honey?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

George swallowed and nodded. He stood, almost mechanically, and started gathering bowls and spoons. Caleb disappeared through one door (supposedly the one leading to the living room) and, to Hank's surprise, Allison went out into the hall and returned with her purse. The two women went through another door and he heard them go up a flight of stairs.

"Give me a hand?" George asked and broke Hank's reverie.

"Yes! Yes, of course." The two boys quickly cleaned the table and carried everything to the kitchen. Hank's mind was working overtime, trying to sort through everything that had happened. The humiliation of George - and of himself - was fresh and deep and still made his cheeks burn.

But still... his dick stayed hard. And he was fairly sure George felt the same. It was so very strange. In the bedroom was one thing, but this whole night had been so... so...

"God, I love that woman," George mumbled. Hank wasn't sure if he spoke to him or himself.

"She is something," he agreed nevertheless.

As they filled the dishwasher, George suddenly threw yet another curveball at him. "You know, I have some money stashed away. I think I need an investment manager."

Hank froze, still holding a bowl with half a scoop of ice cream in it. "You mean...?"

"You think you could fit me into your calendar?"

Hank's eyes lit up. Everything about George Caldwell whispered money - and to handle his investments would be a major boost to his budding firm. An opportunity like this could change everything. It could put him on the map.

"Of course. Uhm. Whenever suits you." He almost added Mr. Caldwell but caught himself.

"Sounds good. I trust you, Hank. I think you have good instincts."

"I... thank you." Hank didn't think he'd done anything tonight that proved his good instincts. Quite the opposite in fact. And yet here was George, offering him the kind of client he'd been hoping for since he'd started his firm. Hank knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that the offer had come at a price. Not one George had named. Not one he'd ever ask for. But Hank knew he wouldn't be standing here, discussing business with George Caldwell, if he hadn't been willing to share Allison with Caleb.

He swallowed the thought along with his doubts. He needed this. They needed this.

The sound of clacking heels interrupted his thoughts. Both men - boys - turned around and were absolutely blown away by the sight that greeted them.

Lydia appeared first. The green dress was gone, replaced by an honest-to-God corset, tightly laced around her waist, transforming her already feminine figure into an almost exaggerated hourglass. It pushed her impressive breasts upward, creating a pronounced cleavage that left very little to the imagination. She had a tattoo on her chest, a letter or something, but Hank was too busy staring everywhere at once to really pay it mind.

A pair of tiny black panties complemented her strict corset perfectly, while black stockings ran up her legs and were held in place by the corset's garters. Her tall black stilettos added to her noticeable height and gave her a provocative walk.

She looked dangerous. Deliberate. And incredibly arousing. The woman knew exactly what she was doing, striding into the kitchen as if she was wearing an evening gown rather than lingerie, her chin held high and a knowing smile on her blood-red lips.

Hank couldn't stop staring. All evening, Lydia had appeared elegant and confident, but this was something else entirely. There was something almost intimidating about the way she carried herself. The desire to lower his eyes battled with the male need to enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman.

Then Allison stepped into view behind her, and Hank's breath caught.

She was wearing a delicate black lingerie set, softer and more playful than Lydia's severe corset. Thin straps framed her shoulders, while black lace traced the edges of the sheer fabric across her body. It was opaque and hung down her stomach, leaving her bellybutton bare, showing off her slim midriff and giving enticing hints and promises of the shape of her breasts. Matching panties and thigh-high stockings completed the look. She too had found a pair of heels, shorter than Lydia's but still extremely sexy.

This was his wife. His wife. That thought kept hammering in his skull - because she hadn't dressed like this for him. Not for him alone. And that was a very intoxicating thought. One a man could get lost in.

The two women was dressed differently, but the message was the same; here were two sexy women, demanding to be seen.

And judging by the way they both smiled when they saw their husbands' reactions, they'd managed very well indeed.

"Such beauty, such grace," George sighed next to him. "We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world, my friend."

"Yes," Hank croaked. The luckiest sons of bitches in the world... except maybe the lucky son of a bitch who got to enjoy them tonight?

Because everyone in the room knew that it wasn't their husbands.

Determined, Hank stepped up to his wife and took her in his arms. She met his lips in a deep, loving kiss, and he loved feeling her. Needed it. She was so beautiful, and she was still his... even if someone else borrowed her from time to time.

When they broke apart, he noticed George and Lydia were also kissing, and he smiled at his new friend.

He noticed Lydia's tattoo again, on her inviting chest, just above the edge of the corset, partly framed by the deep neckline, and suddenly it made sense.

It was a large black C, with a small, unmistakably regal crown hovering above it. Hank stared at it for a long moment. The placement was low enough that he would never have seen it with an ordinary dress or blouse. It stayed hidden until Lydia wanted to show it off.

Capital C. With a crown.

Caleb. Caleb King.

The realisation sent another strange little jolt through him. It wasn't merely a tattoo. It was a declaration - something she had deliberately placed on her body where only the right people got to see it. Like her husband and her black lover.

And tonight, he and his wife.

"Yes. A rather permanent statement, wouldn't you agree?" Lydia had caught him staring, but she didn't appear angry. More amused.

"I... I say," Hank mumbled.

"Caleb really likes it. And George loves it. Don't you, dear?" she asked her husband, who blushed and nodded.

"But the two of you should probably start with this," she went on and turned, showing the room her ass. And it was a delicious ass, firm and round and worthy of admiration.

But Hank didn't notice the feminine beauty of her backside. He saw only the large spade-tattoo right on her cheek, with a white Q in the middle.

A Queen of Spades tattoo.

He'd read about them online, of course. Women who preferred black men had their preference etched onto their skin. He'd seen it often enough in porn too - they were easily found if you looked for them. But to see one in real life was... mind-blowing.

Wait, what did she mean...? The two of them should start with...? Did she mean that Allison should get such a tattoo!?

He turned to his wife who too studied Lydia's butt with a thoughtful expression. Their eyes met, and she sent him a quick, reassuring smile. At least he thought it was meant to be reassuring.

"Shall we?" Lydia asked with a teasing smile, obviously aware of the thoughts she'd set in motion in her guests. "I think the guest of honour is waiting."

"The man of the house, you mean," George said sarcastically.

"Don't pretend you don't like it, my love," the stately woman smiled and ran her hands through her husband's thinning hair. "Like you aren't hard as steel right now."

"Well, how could I not with you two dressed like this?" George joked. The women smiled at him, and the four of them left the kitchen - though the dishwasher wasn't full and hadn't been started.

Allison and Hank hung back for a second, and she gave him a quick look. "Are you okay?"

He looked back at his beautiful, loving wife, dressed like a slut. Her question meant more than he could say, and he nodded.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too."

And with that, they followed their hosts into the living room.

Caleb was sitting on the large, pristine white couch, looking oddly out of place in the refined room. The furniture was expensive, clean and tasteful, while he was large and coarse in his cheap clothes.

And yet he seemed completely at home, lounging comfortably and fiddling with his phone and new watch. He looked up when he heard them and smiled widely at the women, who were dressed to impress. He laid the phone on the coffee table.

"Would you look at that," he said. His voice had lost the politeness from the dinner and became... confident. Maybe even smug.

Hank and George hung back while their wives stepped forward. Swaying seductively as they walked in their heels, they moved to the couch and sat down on either side of Caleb.

"Two eager white bitches," he said, putting a hand on both women's thighs. "What do you think they want?" He directed the question at Hank and George, but it was Lydia who answered.

"You know what we want," she purred. "We want big... black... cock."

"Is that so?" the cocky man said. "You too, Alli?"

"You know I do," she agreed, though she sounded less flirty than Lydia.

Hank's heart was pounding in his chest. This was what he'd been expecting, what he'd been waiting for all night. He wasn't sure if he liked Caleb's self-satisfied attitude, but it was what he'd come to expect from the black man.

His dick was straining in his pants, begging for attention, but he stayed put next to George.

On the couch, Lydia was leaning against Caleb's broad chest, kissing him and letting him caress her soft ass with his big paw.

"But what about your husbands?" the big man asked. "Surely they want their fine bitches for themselves?"

It felt like a ritual to Hank. It just needed a choir chanting in Latin in the background.

"No, we want you to have them," George said.

"We just... just want to watch," Hank added, his voice cracking.

"Fair enough," Caleb laughed and kissed Lydia again.

Then he pointed to the floor in front of him and snapped his fingers. He snapped his fingers. Like the two sophisticated women were his dogs and he expected their obedience. Hank bristled but stayed silent.

Lydia and Allison both slid down onto the floor, kneeling before the proud man. Without being told, they opened his pants and pulled them and his boxers down.

And there it was. The entire reason for this visit. Everything from the moment they'd arrived to now had been for this single thing.

Caleb's massive member. The big, black cock. The tamer of women, the humiliator of men. Hank couldn't tear his eyes from it, and neither could the wives.

It was huge. Thick. Long. Completely smooth and hairless, with a pair of heavy balls. It wasn't even fully hard yet, but still dwarfing Hank's own member. It was so unfair that one guy got so much while others got... less.

With careful, almost reverent movements, Allison took it in her hands. Her white fingers looked so small as they tried to reach around the fat tool.

The excitement that had been building in Hank's stomach all evening was blazing now.

"Suck it," Caleb said, voice stern and irresistible.

Without hesitating, Allison bent down and took the head in her mouth. Lydia tilted her head and attacked the thick shaft from the side, sliding her lips up and down it.

"Ah..." Caleb leaned back on the couch, his hands behind his neck in the ultimate position of power. The two women stayed on their knees, serving him.

Small pleasurable moans from the women and the sounds of sucking and slurping filled the room.

The sight of his wife trying to fit that monster into her mouth, while her new, beautiful friend slurped cock below her was probably the most erotic sight that Hank had ever seen. Without knowing when it had happened, he suddenly found himself massaging his hard dick through his pants. Standing next to him, George was doing the same.

Two cuckolds watching their wives give themselves to another man.

"It's crazy, ain't it?" Caleb said, sounding so smug, so full of himself. "Here we have a fucking professor. Spent years and years getting a PhD." His hand caressed Hank's wife, carefully pushing her blonde hair out of her face so he could watch her pleasure him. "And the COO of the biggest company in town." His other hand caressed George's wife. His eyes turned to their husbands. "Accomplished women. Rich. As beautiful as they are smart." He smiled widely, triumphantly. Like the victor of a game only he knew.

"And me? Hell, I didn't even graduate high school!" he laughed. "And yet here they are: on their knees, worshiping my black cock while their husbands watch. Rich, powerful, beautiful... still bowing to the pleasure of the bigger cock."

He looked so fierce, so proud. Hank couldn't meet his eyes, but looked down, humiliated but so fucking aroused. He wanted nothing more than to pull his dick out and jerk it right here and now.

Of course he didn't. But he wanted to.

"My balls," Caleb commanded. Lydia sent him a sultry smile and slid down the long shaft until she reached the heaby balls. She cupped them gently and took one of them between her red lips.

"Like that..." Caleb sighed. "Now, deeper, Alli."

Hank's wife looked up for a second, then nodded determined. She gagged loudly, pulled back but attacked again.

"Mhm... now we're getting somewhere." Caleb grabbed hold of her soft, blonde hair and used it to force the beautiful wife down on his cock.

The two husbands looked spellbound as their wives serviced the black cock. It was incredibly erotic; it was the hottest sight-

"Oh, Hank. I almost forgot. I have something in the inner pocket of my jacket. Would you fetch it for me?" Caleb's voice was back to being pleasant - he was merely asking his new acquaintance for a favour. Then his smile turned wicked. "I'm a bit tied up at the moment." He ran his strong fingers through the hair of the two women serving him.

"I... yeah. Sure. Of course," Hank said, staring intensely at his wife's lips as they stretched around the fat cock. Drool ran down her chin, but she certainly didn't look unhappy about her task. Then he pulled himself together and turned, reluctantly leaving his wife with her big lover.

He quickly marched through the big house into the hall, where Caleb's jacket was easily found. There was his jacket, Allison's, several expensive, discreet coats and jackets... and a dark-brown bomber jacket in cheap faux leather with patches on the front.

Hank felt it was a safe bet it didn't belong to either of the Caldwells.

He quickly went into its inner pockets. In the first, he found a hole, but from the other he pulled two thin leather cords.

No, he quickly realised, they weren't cords. They were collars, like for a dog. Only, they obviously weren't meant for dogs. Each had a tag with the words "Caleb's Bitch" written on it. Hank's heart stopped for a second as he took in this latest humiliation. His hands holding the collars visibly shook.

What could he do, though? Make a scene? Hardly. Instead, he slunk back into the living room, where the women had switched places. Lydia was now forcing the unyielding cock down her throat, while Hank's wife was servicing the large balls.

"Ah, Hank. Excellent. Give one to George," Caleb said when Hank stepped into the room. George accepted the collar and read the inscription with a sharp breath.

"Now, cucks. Put the collar on your wives." The words seemed to echo in the room, or maybe in Hank's head. The humiliation was so thick one could choke on it. And still Hank felt a sliver of relief. At least it wasn't for me.

He and George exchanged a look before they slowly walked to the couch. Lydia and Allison stopped what they were doing and looked up. Hank tried to keep the tag hidden, but he knew it was a pointless attempt.

He slipped the collar around his wife's graceful neck and tightened it; enough that it wouldn't move but not enough to be unpleasant, and he saw George do the same to Lydia.

Caleb might not have graduated high school, but he certainly had a remarkable grasp of human nature - making him tie this symbol of ownership around his wife's neck was... was unbelievable.

"What do these fine new collars say, cucks?" Caleb's triumphant voice boomed in the room. He remained seated, his cock jutting up obscenely, glistening wet from the women's attention.

"It says- it says Caleb's Bitch," George croaked.

"Caleb's Bitch," Hank said at the same time.

Allison swallowed loudly. Lydia sat up straight, running her hands through her hair. "Mhm, am I?" she said in a seductive voice.

"Damn right you are," Caleb growled. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, and soon she was slurping away on his cock again. Allison cast Hank a heated look before she joined her.

Hank and George looked at each other before slowly taking their own seats on the couch. They had front-row seats to the hottest show on Earth - what could they do but enjoy it?

Lydia knew her way around big cocks. She bobbed her head, swallowing the bulbous head, went deep, then pulled out and lasciviously licked the head while catching her breath. Meanwhile, Allison went from ball to ball, sucking them into her mouth and licking them, and sometimes she slid her tongue up his shaft, teasing him as best she could.

Hank held out for as long as he could; he really did. But in the end, his pants were lowered and his hard dick was let out in the open, and he eagerly jerked it. Oh, fuck it felt good. Watching the two beautiful women, dressed to seduce and wearing collars with Caleb's Bitch written on them serving him, submitting to him... it was enough to drive any sane man crazy.

His eyes were locked on the huge, ebony rod that the soft lips worshipped. It was impossible not to. It didn't take long before he had to take his hand off his dick again.

After all, he didn't want to shoot early.

Caleb, on the other hand, had no such qualms. "Get up here," he commanded Allison and pulled Lydia off him. "Next to the other bitch." He rose, jerking his big tool, while the two white wives knelt in front of him, their faces pressed together and turned upwards.

"Cum for us," Lydia breathed, keeping her mouth open. "Give us your cum." Allison closed hers.

"Fuck..." George muttered. He too was jerking off, staring intently at his wife and her lover. Hank couldn't leave his dick alone either and rubbed it. Slowly, to avoid accidents.

"Take it... take it... TAKE IT!" Caleb's voice grew as he got closer and closer to the edge. His huge fist movied in a blur on his cock, and his face was scrunched up in concentration.

"Take my cum, you FUCKING BITCHES!" he bellowed. A fat wad of pearly sperm exploded from his cock. It struck Lydia on her cheek, leaving a thick streak across the bridge of her nose. Caleb twisted slightly, and the next wave fell on Allison's closed mouth. Then on Lydia's forehead and into her lush, dark-red hair. A wave crashed against Lydia's teeth and tongue, and she quickly swallowed it before opening her mouth again.

Caleb grunted and groaned as his orgasm stretched out, and he painted Allison's and Lydia's faces. Eventually the stream slowed to a trickle and the last drops hung down from his cock, refusing to let go.

With a smirk, the large, black man wiped it across Allison's closed mouth, leaving a trail of slimy goo across her lips.

The two white wives were a mess. Large gobs of cum painted their pretty faces. Allison's right eye was caked with the stuff, and it hung from Lydia's chin.

"Now that is art," Caleb grinned. "Woo!" He threw himself on the couch with a triumphant whoop.

Then his grin turned nasty. "Now, show us how much you love your husbands. Go on, give them a kiss."

Hank had been staring wide-eyed at his wife and her friend, amazed, horrified and aroused at their complete humiliation. Now, he whipped his head around, catching George's eye - he looked as shocked as he was. Apparently, this was not part of the usual ritual.

Lydia and Allison exchanged a glance too, but smirks appeared on their lips. They both rose, Lydia stiff in her merciless corset, Allison gracefully in her babydoll, and turned to their respective husbands.

Hank could only watch as his beautiful, debased wife came closer and closer. He only had eyes for the sperm that clung to her skin... especially to her lips.

They were so soft when they pressed against his. But the sticky liquid was so vile! So his lips remained sealed.

"Open up," she whispered. He didn't want to, he really didn't.

But he did. And she pushed her tongue into his mouth and with it, the salty, tangy cum of her lover.

It was repulsive. It was disgusting. He swallowed, forced it down his throat as quickly as he could. The sexy kiss his wife gave him, the salty weirdness - it was so confusing! He didn't like it, of course, but still he felt a drop of precum run down his shaft. As if a part of him really did like it! What was going on?

"Seems like you like it," Allison whispered in a breathy, sensual voice. She blinked with the eye that still worked. Hank coloured but had no answer.

"How nice," Caleb grinned. "Well, I guess you ladies want to go and freshen up? Before next round?" Hank glanced at him. They were ladies now? Not bitches?

"Good idea," Lydia said. Allison, who still couldn't see out of her right eye, nodded, and the two sexy ladies disappeared from the room. Despite the humiliation he'd just gone through, his focus jumped from the swaying cheeks of his wife to Lydia's. Especially the large Queen of Spades tattoo caught his eye. Surely, Allison didn't want that.

"How are you holding up, guys?" the big, black man asked, like he hadn't just made their wives feed them his cum.

"That was a nasty trick, Caleb," George complained with clear disgust in his voice.

"Someone seemed to like it," the black man answered with a telling look at George's very hard dick. It still jutted out of his fly and had leaked enough precum to leave a spot on his pants.

The sudden shift from mean, controlling Caleb to friendly, good-natured Caleb continued to catchi Hank by surprise, so he said nothing. The two men chatted until they heard the sound of heels returning.

Lydia and Allison still wore their shoes. But that was also the only thing they wore. Two naked ladies strode confidently into the living room - though Hank did notice that Allison's cheeks were blushing red.

Their collars were still around their necks, of course. Evidently, they were still Caleb's bitches.

And they were magnificent.

Lydia caught Hank's attention first. She had a body that had been designed rather than simply grown. Full, proud and obviously fake breasts, a narrow waist, even without her corset, generous hips and a round, firm ass. Nothing about her was subtle; she was a mature, voluptuous woman, and she carried every inch of herself with the same effortless confidence she had shown all evening. Even naked, she managed to look sophisticated. Her sex was bare, no hair down here to prove that her mane of fiery-dark hair was artificially coloured.

Then his eyes shifted to the younger Allison. She was less curvy, her body slimmer and more naturally delicate. Where Lydia's curves demanded attention, Allison's figure had a softer, more understated beauty. Her breasts were smaller, her waist less dramatically defined, her hips narrower, and she had a blonde landing strip adorned her shaved pussy - but there was something about her natural looks that made Hank's mouth water.

Despite their differences, there was something strikingly similar about the two women. They were both beautiful, both feminine in completely different ways. And they both knew exactly the effect they had on the men watching them.

Hank certainly knew.

His eyes moved from one woman to the other, unable to decide who was more beautiful. Lydia was mature, refined and commanding. Allison was young, soft and familiar. One was breathtaking. The other had promised to love him for the rest of her life. It was impossible to choose.

Not that he was ever asked to. The women only had eyes for Caleb and strutted up to him.

Hank couldn't stop looking at Lydia's tattoo, though. She had permanently marked Caleb as her... what? Lover? King?

It was crazy. Allison would never do something like that!

And, of course, he was glad she wouldn't.

"Ready for more? Or have you had enough?" Caleb smirked when they stood in front of him. They'd cleaned their faces and quickly touched up their make-up.

"Enough? We haven't gotten anything yet," Lydia smirked back.

"Yeah. Isn't it our turn now?" Allison added. They both crossed their arms over their chests, glaring down at Caleb.

"Yeah, I think it is. But since there's only one of me, I think we need to bring in the cucks," Caleb said. "So, Lydia, get me hard. Ally, enjoy your boy-toy and his new friend."

The women exchanged smirks, and Lydia once again knelt before the powerful man and slurped his somewhat deflated cock into her mouth.

Meanwhile, an uncertain looked cross Allison's face. She sat down on the couch next to Hank. Who didn't quite know what to do either. Hesitantly, they kissed. Then passionately. The disgusting taste was gone from her, and she was just his Allison again. He closed his eyes, enjoying his wife's lips. His tongue played with hers, and a moan escaped her.

Then another, louder moan. And another. Hank opened his eyes.

To see his new friend George kneeling between her legs. His tongue was busy, licking up and down Allison's engorged pussy lips.

Hank had no idea how to feel about that. Caleb was one thing - the big, black man was their bull and that was how things worked. But his fellow cuck, licking his wife? Was that okay?

"Mhm, yes..." Allison sighed, putting a gentle hand on George's head. A peculiar feeling of jealousy he hadn't expected stirred inside him. He hadn't felt like this when she sucked Caleb's big black cock or his balls, or even when she let him cum on her face - something he himself had never done. Or when she'd fucked him those weeks ago.

But watching George go down on her gave him a strange, unpleasant tugging in his heart. For a second he almost went down there to push the other man away.

Allison pulled him back into the kiss, and he wanted that too. So instead, he settled on proving who was the better kisser and poured his heart and soul into her.

Or he tried to, at least. Because something else caught his eye and stole his attention.

Lydia, beautiful and sophisticated, was kneeling just a few feet away, her superb naked body on full display. Her mane of dark-red hair fell across her face, but it was still impossible not to notice the huge black cock sliding in and out of her mouth. She'd gotten it hard again already, the imposing tool stretching her lips and making her choke. She couldn't take more than half, but her small, white hands jerked the rest of the shaft in time with her deep-throating.

Hank couldn't stop staring. He almost forgot about his wife, about George, about everything, just to watch the stately woman force that monster into her mouth again and again. Allison turned her face and watched too, and she gave a horny moan at the sight. Or maybe it was George's tongue, who could say?

"See something you like, cuck?" Caleb grinned. Hank blushed, suddenly feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yeah, she's really good," the black man went on, pushing her long, wondrous hair out of her face, letting them see the wanton display better. "Too bad she's not for you. This kind of woman is wasted on a white cuck like you."

She didn't react. Didn't jump to his defense, didn't even object that her husband fell into the same category. She just kept going, worshipping the black rod like nothing else mattered.

His words and her indifference struck home. The churning excitement in his stomach doubled, and he had no idea what to do with himself. Hank's eyes flicked to his wife, who smiled at him. Her usual sweet smile - although was there something condescending in it? Like she agreed with the black man?

"I think it's time we showed the cucks who's the man around here. That's what they came for, after all," Caleb said. Lydia pulled the black cock out of her mouth with an obscene pop and smiled up at him, her eyes shining.

"Finally."

Caleb laughed and gestured to the space next to Hank. "Get on your back, slut."

The buxom woman smiled wickedly and crawled up on the couch.

She really was a work of art. George had truly demonstrated his craftsmanship on her. The boob-job was exquisite and looked almost natural, her ass was magnificent and looked even more impressive next to her slim waist. Everything about her, from her waves of dark-red hair to her perfectly painted toenails, was polished, expensive... deliberate.

And now that fine woman was offering herself up to the hulking black man. Her smooth legs spread, her glistening pussy more than ready.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hank noticed that George had stopped licking Allison and was watching his wife and her lover with burning eyes. Not that Allison seemed to mind, her attention had drifted to their hostess too. All three of them were staring intently, as the haughty woman gleefully surrendered.

She let out a deep gasp as that big black cock, still wet from her own spit, split her open. Her little wet pussy stretched as the large man pushed into her. He didn't rush, but neither did he go easy on her. Slowly, more and more of him entered her, her eyes wide and mouth open in what was surely ecstasy.

Caleb lay down on top of her, and both George and Hank moved closer to get a better view. Everything else was forgotten; they needed to watch this.

"Ooooh..." A throaty moan escaped her as he bottomed out in her. Caleb's big, strong hands grabbed her hair and twisted her head up to look at him.

"You ready, bitch?" he asked. His tone was harsh, almost cruel; there was no trace of the Caleb who'd joked with George when the women were freshening up. The big, black bull was back, and there was no doubt that he was in charge.

"Yes... give it to me," she agreed, looking up at him, her big green eyes filled with anticipation and... challenge? Hank wasn't quite sure what the statuesque woman felt at that moment.

Caleb did as she asked though. Fucking hell he did. Apparently, Caleb was done with taking it easy. Maybe he too had read the challenge in Lydia's eyes, because he seemed intent on breaking her. Hank watched slack-jawed as the black man thrust his monster into her, hard, mercilessly. And again and again.

Lydia grunted, gritting her teeth, a mix of pain and desire plain on her face. He forced a gasp from her every time he thrust into her, but she certainly didn't seem like she wanted him to stop.

The big man's eyes were burning. His muscles flexed as he forced himself into her, and her entire body shook with every impact. Her tits jiggled notably and caught Hank's eye.

He had no idea how long he watched the spectacle. The huge, ugly man on top of the small, beautiful woman - this was the real Beauty and the Beast, if Disney had had any balls.

The fucking seemed more like a duel. Frankly, he had no idea what was going on, but it was so fucking hot. For the life of him, he couldn't look away.

Finally, it became too much, and Lydia broke.

"Fuck!" she shouted. "Fuck, it's so FUCKING BIG!"

"You like that, slut?" Caleb asked, his voice hoarse and cruel. A triumphant smile played on his lips.

"Yessss!"

"What do you like? Huh?"

"Big, black cock! I want your fucking black COCK!" she admitted. "Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!"

And he did. He never slowed. He took that woman, made her forget everything else but the cock in her and the pleasure it gave her.

Caleb didn't let up just because she told him what he wanted to hear; quite the opposite. Now that he had won her surrender, he took her harder. The brutish fucking wouldn't stop, couldn't stop.

And she loved it. She moaned and gasped, her long, perfect nails scratching Caleb's shoulders as if urging him on. She fucked him back with all her might, meeting his hard thrusts.

Lydia's careful, civilized surface was cracking, and the wanton woman she was underneath was being unleashed.

This was Jane being broken by Tarzan.

It was a brutal Visigoth warrior with his captured Roman patrician. A Viking with his enslaved Anglo-Saxon noblewoman. It was nature triumphing over culture.

It was a wonder to behold.

"What are you?" Caleb demanded.

"I'm your bitch! I'm your white slut! I'm a whore for black cock!" she replied, her voice growing more and more shrill. She was breathing hard, pleasure visibly coursing through her.

"And whose pussy is this?"

Hank's mouth went dry as he listened to the self-absorbed bull, and he heard a choking sound coming from George. Not that Lydia heard - or would have cared if she did.

"Yours! It's your pussy... It's... it's yours..."

Then the dam broke. Her face changed, and she got the wildest expression in her eyes. "Yes! Caleb! Yes! GIMME THAT BLACK COCK!" she screeched. She started convulsing almost violently, twisting and shaking.

"MORE!" she cried. Lydia certainly wasn't quiet in her orgasm, and Hank physically winced when he saw how her nails scratched the black man's shoulders.

He grimaced and grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head as he kept fucking her. She tried to resist, but she was too weak and too preoccupied with the pleasure that ran through her. Caleb easily held her, as he fucked her through her orgasm, while she wordlessly cried her pleasure out.

When she finally came down from her orgasmic high, George crawled to her, his stiff dick still protruding from his pants. His lips found her, and they shared a long, intense kiss - while her lover kept pushing his cock into her, making her entire body shift.

"You're so beautiful. So sexy. I love you so much. So much..." Hank heard George's whispered declarations of love to his wife and looked away. The moment suddenly felt too intimate - this was vastly different from watching the proud woman get dominated and fucked into the couch. This was... was real.

Instead his eyes found Allison's, and she smiled at him. And suddenly they were kissing too, a long, loving kiss. She was so soft, so wonderful.

"I love you," he said. He didn't know what else to do.

"I love you too," she smiled back, her eyes gleaming with warmth.

"Well, if that ain't the sweetest thing I ever saw. The cucks love the sluts." Caleb interrupted their moment when he stood and walked to Hank and Allison. He looked down at the loving couple with a smirk, his thick tool glistening with Lydia's juices.

Hank wanted to tell the big man to get lost, but the words didn't come. The enormous, black cock caught his eyes, and he couldn't look away. Neither could Allison, though her expression was a mix of longing and mild annoyance.

"It's your turn," Caleb said, reading her easily. "But if you don't want to, I'm sure-"

"I didn't say that," she quickly interrupted him in a terse voice. "How do you want me?"

"On all fours. Gonna fuck your girl like a bitch in heat," he said to Hank, who could only swallow nervously and nod. This was it. What the entire night had been leading up to. Finally, he'd get to see his wonderful wife submit to this brute again.

Allison shifted onto all fours, and Caleb climbed up on the couch behind her. She looked over her shoulder up at him. "Now take it easy. I'm not used to..." her voice trailed off.

"Don't worry, slut," Caleb laughed and gave her delicious ass a good-natured spank. "I know you're not used to full-size cock. Yet." He gave Hank a malicious smile.

The humiliation was so real. Hank's dick - his not full-sized dick - throbbed, and his heart skipped a beat. The burning in his gut only improved when his wife didn't say anything to defend him, just turned back around, bracing for the coming onslaught.

He studied her face, looking past her determination, her desire, her anticipation and saw the wild, inner beauty. She was about to release her innermost lust, to turn into that lovely slut he'd seen those weeks ago when she first embraced this monster.

And he was here for it. He wanted it as much as she did. Her red lips curved into a small, secretive smile, just for him. A loving smile that meant more than anything she could ever say. He smiled back.

Then her eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a low, pleased moan. The beast was staking his claim on her. His long, fat cock was inside her.

"Hank..." she gasped. "Hank, he's so... he's so..."

"What am I, slut?" Caleb grinned and swatted her ass again.

"So big!" she finished. Hank's dick begged for his attention, but he kept his hands off it... for now.

His black hands dug into her delicate white skin at her waist, holding her in place, while he fed her more and more of his cock. She moaned again, her eyes shining. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her nipples hard as pebbles. Hank wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to feel her soft lips against his.

But he knew he couldn't. It wasn't his time. The cucks had to wait.

It was a heady thought, of being relegated to the sideline while his wife was taking that monster. But it felt so right.

"You like watching your wife take a real cock, cuck?" Caleb's cruel voice seemed to read his mind. Or maybe he was that obvious.

"Yes..." he admitted.

"Haha! I knew it. Fucking cucks, man..." He shook his head in... disgust? Bewilderment? Hank couldn't tell, but his cheeks burned with shame.

And still he couldn't stop staring. Those black hands against her white skin, her wide, shining eyes, the huge cock sawing in and out of her. Her tousled blonde hair, her open mouth, his set, determined mouth.

"Hank, dear." Lydia's voice broke through his reverie, and he whipped his head around to the other end of the couch. The stately woman sat next to her husband, her large, green eyes commanding his attention. "Come over here, please."

He looked from his wife slowly getting used to the cock to the redheaded hostess demanding his attention. Then he got up and slowly walked to her.

Lydia gave her husband a kiss and looked up at Hank. "Why don't you two get out of those clothes?" she wondered, raising an eyebrow, as if them still being dressed was ridiculous in and of itself.

Hank exchanged a quick look with George and shrugged. They both quickly shed their clothes, throwing them on the floor, accompanied by the sounds of Caleb's grunts and Allison's moans.

Three men were naked in the living room now. George was the pudgier of the trio. Hank more athletic, though hardly 'built' as the youth said. And Caleb, of course, the big mean machine, nothing but muscles and cock.

Lydia, smiling like the cat that ate the canary, pointed to the floor between her legs, spreading them a little farther. Hank blinked, uncomprehending. Then he gaped in surprise. He remembered what George had done for Allison. Did she mean...?

Her smile grew wider, more triumphant... more dominant, and she nodded.

Another look at George, who grinned at him. A "what can you do?" grin.

Hank, naked and embarrassed, sank to his knees between the gorgeous woman's legs.

With a last look at his wife - who might not even have noticed he'd left, she was so caught up in her fucking - Hank leaned in.

Her pussy was swollen and red, her labia engorged, her entrance still gaping, everything was glistening with her juices.

His tongue found her clit. He might have gone slow any other day, but after watching her take Caleb's cock, subtlety seemed redundant.

She had a distinct, musky taste, one that Hank found very much to his liking. He closed his lips around her small pleasure-button, swirled his tongue around it, teasing it, pleasing it.

She gave a lazy moan, and Hank heard George kiss her. It was the opposite of what had happened when Caleb took Lydia. Was this part of... well, maybe not the ritual but... was this the way it was done. The cucks took care of one wife while the bull pleasured the other?

Kneeling here, licking another man's wife while his own was getting her pussy absolutely destroyed by big black cock, it actually felt like a ritual. Like he was paying homage to the pussy that the bull had taken.

His head almost swam with the humiliation.

Until a singular thought entered it. George hadn't made Allison cum. He'd been too focused on his own wife - and Hank could understand why. The pull to watch Allison get pummeled was very strong indeed. But now he had a new goal.

He wanted to give this strong, beautiful woman an orgasm. He wanted to make Lydia Caldwell cum.

"Oh GOD, it's big, so big, so big..." he heard Allison moan. She sounded close already. Apparently, it didn't take much to make his wife into a moaning mess. Just a cock the size of a tree trunk.

Hank wanted so badly to watch. To free himself from this woman and enjoy the sight of his bride's orgasmic rush.

But he had a job to do. So instead, he shifted closer, lifted one of Lydia's legs onto his shoulder and pressed a finger into her wide-open pussy. Well, one finger didn't do much after Caleb had been there, so he added a second and soon after a third.

"Ooohh..." he heard his sexy hostess moan into her husband's kiss, and a determined smile spread on Hank's lips.

He was gonna do this.

"You like that cock, bitch? Hmm?" he heard Caleb grunt, followed by a hard slap.

"Caleb! FUCK! I love your cock, I love it!" Allison cried in response. God, Hank wanted to watch! Her ass wobbled in the sexiest way when Caleb spanked it, and he couldn't even see it right now.

He redoubled his efforts, fingering the beautiful woman and licking her like his life depended on it. Well, his sanity, maybe.

"Ah! Oh... Mhm, that's nice, Hank..." Lydia purred. Hank looked up at her, catching her dark eyes. She gave him a cheeky smile, and her hand slid up, caressing her breast... caressing her tattoo. The large C wearing the crown. Was she trying to tell him that no matter how good he was, she'd always prefer Caleb? Or did she just enjoy his attention and wanted the extra stimulation?

No matter. She'd get her orgasm, no matter what she was thinking, so help him God.

He slurped her clit into his mouth, teasing it with both his teeth and tongue.

"Mhm!" she sighed. "Oh! That's a good cuck, yesss..." There was a sharp edge to her tone; she was getting closer. He could feel it.

Thank God, since his neck was starting to cramp. And her heel on his shoulder somehow managed to dig into his muscle in a painful way. But it didn't matter. He'd get her. He'd show her.

"What do you want, bitch?" they all heard Caleb grunt.

"I want to cum! I want to cum on your big, BLACK cock!" Allison whined and was awarded with a resounding slap on her butt. Hank would have loved nothing more than to watch, but he was on a mission. He had to focus.

"Ah... ah! Hank, that's... ah..." Lydia was moaning now. Yes, he was getting there. Sucking her clit, licking it, fingering her open pussy.

"You like that, baby? You like getting licked by another cuck?" George whispered in her ear, but Hank could easily hear him. The words echoed in his ears, but the added humiliation only made him more focused.

"Yes! Yes! Eat me, cuck, EAT ME! Lick my pussy 'cause you're never gonna fuck me!" she gasped loudly, her hands on Hank's head, pressing his head into her pussy.

"Taste that pussy! Ah, YES! Taste it! It's not for you... oh, fuck! It's only for black cock!"

Her orgasm tore through her, and she twisted and convulsed in pleasure, while he kept eating her out as best he could, following her movements.

Her words hurt though. The casual disdain, the belittling, the rejection... it hurt his pride deeply. And made his cock ache to be touched. God, he wanted to... wanted to...

Well, at least he'd succeeded. There was no doubt that Lydia enjoyed him, and she kept gasping and writhing and moaning.

Fuck, yeah. He was the man.

Well, maybe not as much as Caleb. But he still got the job done.

"Mhm... that's a good cuck," Lydia smiled. For the moment, the dominant look in her eyes had been replaced by a mellow, satisfied one. She let go of his hair, her hand running down his face, caressing him. "Thank you for that. Now, you better get back to your wife. I think she's about to... you know."

With as much dignity as he could muster, Hank scrambled to his feet and returned to the other end of the couch - where his wife was being fucked almost violently by her lover. She had her face pressed down into the couch, muffling her sounds somewhat. The black man towered above her, hammering into her, making her cry and moan.

"There's your little husband," he grunted almost gleefully. "Look. Look at him." He grabbed a handful of her bouncing hair and pulled her head back.

"Ahhh!" she gasped and her wide eyes came to rest on her naked husband.

"Tell him who owns this pussy, bitch." Caleb's voice was harsh and struck a chord deep inside Hank.

"You own it, Caleb. You do!" she gasped, trying to twist her head in his grip to look up at him.

"No. Tell him," the black man commanded, holding her head still, keeping her attention on Hank.

"It's his pussy! It's his pussy. Sorry, baby, but it's his now. It's his pussy. It's his pussy. It's his pussy." She kept repeating that phrase, almost like a mantra, while her body rocked from the harsh treatment Caleb put her through.

Hank's eyes never left her. She had never looked more beautiful. Her smooth skin was glistening with sweat, her hair was being pulled back from her face by the large black hand, and her eyes were wide and unfocused.

It was easy to see the pleasure rising in her, and Hank loved that.

"It's his pussy. It's his... pussy! His PUSSY!" Her voice became shriller, more intense.

"Fuck yeah, it is! MY white pussy!" Caleb grunted and slapped her ass, making her sexy derriere wobble delightfully.

"His! His pussy! His WHITE PUSSY! Oh my FUCKING GOD!" the last words screeched out as pleasure overtook her. She closed her eyes as she thrashed in pleasure while Caleb fucked her through her orgasm, and her husband eagerly looked on. She was magnificent in the throes of pleasure, and Hank never wanted this moment to end.

But of course it did. Slowly, her orgasm faded, and Caleb abruptly pulled out of her. She almost fell forward, and Hank rushed to his exhausted wife and hugged her, practically holding her up. Her eyes had a faraway look and her mouth formed a small, surprised O.

She looked like a woman who had no idea where she was and how she'd gotten here, but she felt so blissful that it didn't really matter.

Hank could only kiss her.

"Bitch, playtime with the hubby is over. Get up on this," Hank heard Caleb command as he plopped down next to their hostess. Over Allison's shoulder, he saw Lydia crawl up on Caleb's absurd cock and ride him cowgirl-style, but right now he only cared about his wife.

"Are you okay, honey?" he whispered.

She blinked several times, seemingly pulling herself together. Then a smile appeared on her lips.

"I am fiiine," she giggled. She sounded almost drunk. "I am so thoroughly fucked, it's crazy."

"Good. Good." He hugged her again, burying his face in her hair. Beneath the smell of sex and debauchery, her flowery shampoo was still recognisable.

"I love you," he whispered. He didn't think she heard him over Lydia's pleasurable moans, but she turned her head up at him.

"I love you too," she said.

And she kissed him. Long, intense and loving, the kind of kisses only he got. Her love overwhelmed him and he clung to it and her. It was perfect.

Finally, she scooted up into the crook of his arm, and together they watched their hostess' perfect body bounce on the biggest cock in the area.

How long did he lie with his wife, enjoying her closeness, her warmth, her love while watching the show? Hank had no idea. Enough time for Lydia to have several more loud orgasms at least.

She was glorious. Her lush auburn hair flying about, her large firm tits and round ass bouncing, her eyes closed in bliss, her mouth open as she cried her orgasm out. Simply glorious.

But all things must end, and even Caleb's stamina wasn't unlimited.

"Take my cum, you fucking high-class WHORE!" he grunted into her face. She moaned louder and kissed him while he filled her up. Even through her lips, they could hear his loud grunt. For a moment, he tensed before falling back into the couch, seemingly spent.

Lydia kept kissing him for a while before finally crawling off him. He looked utterly spent.

For a moment, he just rested. Then, slowly, he stood, gathering himself, that obscene dick hanging flaccid. Hank did his best not to stare at it, but it drew his eyes like a magnet. It was... strange. He was completely straight; why did he care so much about Caleb's cock? George's was of no interest to him.

"Guess it's time for the husbands to have their fun," he smiled and looked around for his clothes.

"It certainly is," Lydia agreed, kissing her husband. "They've been such good boys all night."

"About time," George grinned. "You need anything, man?"

"Nah, I'm good. I know my way out," Caleb answered as he got dressed.

Again, the transformation from dominating bull and submissive cuckold to friends was so utterly weird.

"Have a good one," Caleb said to him and stuck his hand out. Confused, but too polite to refuse, Hank shook it. "And take care of this one. She's a firecracker." He laughed with a last look at the naked Allison who giggled up at him.

"George. Lydia," he said politely, shaking George's hand. Almost like he was saying goodnight to the hosts after a fun party - nevermind the fact that he was the only one wearing clothes.

Then, whistling a merry tune, the big, black man left the two couples alone.

"Hey, wait," Allison called when Caleb was almost at the door leading to the kitchen. He turned around, his eyebrows raised.

"You want... you want this back?" she asked, tugging at her collar.

"Nah," he laughed. "Keep it. Maybe you'll need it one day." Then he was off.

"Get it off me, honey?" Allison asked. Hank and George removed the symbols of Caleb's dominance from their wives and were each rewarded with smoldering kisses. Hank tossed the collar on the coffee table, misjudged the distance, and watched it slip onto the floor. Well, no matter - he had more important things to consider right now. Like his wife's sugar sweet kisses and the deep look in her eyes.

She lay down on her back, and Hank crawled between her spread legs. She was warm, wet, eager, and he easily slid into her, his rock-hard dick almost exploding with bliss as her wetness closed around it.

"Oh baby..." she murmured.

From behind them, he heard Lydia give a gentle moan - quickly drowned out by George's happy groans.

"You feel so good," Hank sighed in his wife's ear. He slowly slid his dick in and out of her, not hard, not fast. Truth be told, he was already close to bursting, and he wanted to save a little face.

"Still?" she asked, just like she had after her first time with Caleb. He couldn't suppress a small laugh back, as he answered her the same as he had then: "Always."

"You too," she sighed. "You're just what I need right now."

Also... he couldn't help himself. He let his tongue run from her collarbone to her neck, tasting her salty sweat. It was just as he'd imagined. A little weird, maybe, but it did something to him.

She pretended not to notice.

In the weeks and months leading up to their first date with Caleb, they'd often played with the idea of black cuckolding in bed. Allison talking about his 'little white dick,' telling him she wanted a 'big black one for a change.'

Hank was so relieved there was none of that now. Just a man and a wife in love, enjoying each other. Just sweet lovemaking.

"Yes... take me," she sighed in his ear.

"You're mine," he grunted. Memories of his pretty wife chanting 'it's your pussy' threatened to flood his mind, but he staved them off. That was then. This was now.

"Yes... all yours..." she agreed.

She didn't cum. Neither of them had expected her to, and that wasn't what this was about right now. Hank struggled, drawing it out as long as he could (preferably longer than George, though he'd never admit it out loud). In the end, however, he had to surrender to his needs.

Allison noticed - maybe it was a look in his eyes, maybe the faster, more desperate strokes. "It's okay, baby," she smiled. "Cum. Cum in me... take me back. Reclaim your wife."

"Allison... baby... I love you..." he sighed and thrust into her one last time. Bliss roared through him, the sweetest release of his life. Everything was joy and happiness and wholeness. Everything was good.

He collapsed on top of her. He had no more strength left. Vaguely, he heard George shout something, and then the other couple fell silent too. Had the old rascal held back, until Hank orgasmed? Just like Hank tried?

He could only shake his head. They really did think alike.

Two cucks in a pod.

The rest of the night was almost anticlimactic in its banality. The women went upstairs to freshen up and to get their clothes. George and Hank chatted as they got dressed. Mostly about their upcoming business plans, but also...

"Your Allison is really something."

Hank stopped buttoning his shirt and looked at his new friend. "Yes. She is," he agreed solemnly.

"But that Lydia of yours..." Hank returned the compliment with awe evident in his voice, and the two men smiled.

"She's amazing. Simply amazing," George agreed.

"Who is?" Lydia asked, appearing in the doorway with Allison trailing behind. The hostess was wearing a soft terrycloth bathrobe, while Allison had changed into the dress she wore when they arrived. Without their tall heels, they'd managed to sneak up on their husbands for once.

"Gladis. You know, the Arabian thoroughbred that won the race last week. Made quite a pretty penny," George winked at Hank, who grinned back.

Lydia arched an eyebrow at her husband.

"Don't be fooled, Lydia. He was talking about you, of course," Hank said and gave her a hug. The poised wife seemed almost surprised by his hug but returned it anyway.

Lydia Caldwell had not struck him as a person for casual hugs when he first arrived, but after everything he'd seen and done tonight, a hug was the least he could do.

She smelled amazing.

Allison sent him a surprised look over their hostess' shoulder, but smiled nevertheless.

"Blabbermouth," George stage-whispered, but there was a grin in his voice.

"Anyway, I think we should head off. Thank you, Lydia... it's been an amazing night. Simply amazing," Hank said and let go of the gorgeous woman. She smiled at him, an honest smile that made him feel good about everything.

"Yes, thank you," Allison agreed and stepped forward to get a hug too.

"Well, I think our guest of honour deserves some credit," Lydia said with a dark, throaty chuckle. "He did his part."

"His part... our wives..." George grinned and shook Hank's hand. While Allison hugged him goodbye, Hank noticed something under the coffee table.

Allison's collar. When he was sure that the others were occupied, he bent down and grabbed it. Hoping no one noticed, he stuffed it in his pocket.

One never did know. It might come in handy.

The Caldwells followed them to the door, and they said their goodbyes again.

Hank had sobered up during the night and felt fine to drive home.

"So..." he said as they drove off. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Allison grinned. "But so satisfied."

"Good. That's good."

It didn't take long before Allison dozed off. Hank drove slowly, letting the night play through his mind. He kept glancing at his wife; she was still so beautiful. Her hair was a mess, her dress was wrinkled, and she looked dead tired. There were faint smudges around her eyes, and strands of blonde hair fell across her face. In short, she looked nothing like the elegant woman who had walked into the Caldwells' house earlier that evening.

But she was beautiful. And she was all his.

At least most of the time.

The end.