New Guy

A new guy has joined the list, Gerald. He had contacted us through our swinger site a long time back, and somehow down the line she lost contact (the site drops old emails after 60 days), and we sometimes have stretches when we weren't active in checking emails. He had the luck to come back on the scene when she had dropped Sam, and he was persistiant enough to keep in contact. The more he persisted it seemed the more that she wanted to get together with him. "I have a good feeling about him," she told me.

So we eventually set up a weekday meeting in the same hotel where she had met a couple of other lovers. We walked into the restaurant where we usually first meet, and this black guy was standing at the salad bar and did a long triple take on her, in this hot black scoop necked dress that shows a lot of cleavage.

Gerald's photos had shown him in a office, wearing a tie in all of his photos, a suit in most, and the guy at the salad bar was wearing below the knee short pants and a long tee shirt over that. I didn't think he was the guy.

We sat down, ordered, and he called on the cell. He told us his location, and he was the man at the salad bar. He brought his drink around, ordered an appetizer, We talked a while, no negatives, and we finished our meal, stepped outside, and I told them I would walk and she would ride with him so he didn't have to leave his car a block and a half away.

When we went upstairs it was the usual ackward sitting on the suite sofa while I sat opposite. I don't know why this always takes some time to get started, but after my second trip to the men's room I came back out and they were making out, then he took her hand and walked to the bed, removing his shirt while Anna was on her knees, fully clothed, and unbuckling his pants. His pants fell and he stood there, without touching her, waiting while she pulled his cock out of his shorts and began to suck. His cock was very thick, with a large bulbous head.

She sucked him and he slid his hand in her top to caress her breast, and she slid out of the shoulder straps and let it fall to her waist, taking his cock and rubbing it over his nipples. He made no sound, just stood there looking down at her.

He pulled her up and kissed her as he kicked off his shoes and socks, and then lay her down on the bed and began to eat her pussy, his hands on the outside of her legs, playing with her breasts as he did, and he stood up reached into his pants and pulled out a condom, walking on his knees to her in the bed, and she raised her feet and began playing with his thick cock with her feet for a while.

Then he pulled on the condom and leaned over her, rubbing his cock on the outside of her pussy and then began sliding it in very slowly, and she gasped as he did, adjusting to his thick cock stretching her pussy. Her pussy was soaked and was frothing white foamy juices, which I'd not seen her do often. He fucked her like that for a while, then flipped her onto her knees and fucked her doggy, which she loves. As he kept fucking her he put his hand on her ass and slowly put his thumb into her ass as he fucked her.

He put her on her side and pushed up one leg to her shoulder and fucked her sideways, ramming her harder and her breasts bouncing. He pulled her up, standing and she sat up on the bed and began sucking his cock. He stroked his cock and she lay back on the bed, her legs open to him and began playing with herself as he got stroked his cock trying to get hard again.

They lay on the bed and cuddled and she began sucking him again. She took a condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock and he mounted her again missionary style, then doggy, and then on his back as she straddled him. He was having a problem staying hard consistantly, he'd get soft and nearly lose his hard-on and then it would come back. She kept riding him until he came and she came and then she rolled off him.

I handed him a marker and asked him to sign his work, as is my little kink, and he wrote on her pubis, "BBC Lover" He dressed as she still lay there naked, said his goodbyes and left.

As we did what I call my reclaiming fuck, she said, "We may be doing this enough. He kept losing it." I understood that it was not about him but she takes that as her being less desirable. Her weight is a little up and she thought that she's the problem, and she is worrying about aging.

She said, "This is not as exciting as it used to be. You said we would stop when I wanted, I think I may want to but I don't want you pushing me to keep going."
I thought about it for a second, and said, "That's right. You want to quit we quit."

Later she asked how many different black guys she'd done. We tried counting, and she had said that the guy who left in the middle of things didn't count. So the count was 10 without him, 11 with him. Now it sounded like she was willing to count.

I told her that if she wanted to quit we would. What I would suggest that she at least do 12, making it an even dozen, and a some point I wanted her to do two black guys at once. She thought that would make a good number.

Then later she added, "I would still like to do my regulars from time to time."

The translation to this is she doesn't want to risk rejection, but if that has never been a problem anywhere except within her own mind.

Being Shown Off fantasy

September
Got an email from Sam yesterday, first time in several months. I think she is still planning on fucking him at some point-but didn't like being the pursurer. (his attitude is a turn off for her). She said at Mardi Gras it would be pretty good.

September, days later

So we went to a nice dinner, she had three glasses of wine, we came home, went to the hot tub with drinks, naked, and came back inside. She was wandering mentally and I asked her what was the most erotic thing she had ever done-and she replayed the meeting with Sam and her first black fuck. "It was everything I fantasized about and more," she said. She also said she wanted to fuck him again-and for some reason I got an email from him the other day saying we need to get together again. (As I wrote this it hit me, I wonder if those two things are related?)

Anyway, back in the room we started talking and what she said was that she would like to go somewhere with a black guy when it was obvious that she was his date. We talked about going to an outdoor concert, and I would sit on the side of the guy so it would be real clear. "You'd have to dress really slutty, just so everyone would know." She nodded.

And then I threw it that it would be hot to go into a club or restaruant with a black guy and I would hang around outside and come in a while later, so it would be obvious that she was with him. She really started getting soaked talking about it. Then with me inside her I told her to describe it to me, and she took it further.

I mentioned that she could go to a swing club/meet-greet dance place, she could go in, dance with him, and let him introduce him to his friends and have her dance with them too, and let them feel her up if they wanted. She got very turned on and as I had her describe it she did an oral fantasy of them guys taking her into a back room and fucking her one after the other.

I ordered a rub on tattoo of the Q of Spades tattoo, put it on her and we did the role playing again, with this time her in a low cut dress with it visible.

Slow, but some promising preliminaries

We've had little luck hooking up, had to go out of town for a couple of weeks, had conflicts with a couple of her guys, although she definitely wants a repeat with Dr. BBC.

She said she loves playing with his uncircumcised cock, playing with his foreskin, "There's so much you can do with it," she commented, laughing.

Meanwhile we received an interesting email in which a guy with a voyeur fetish wants to watch Anna with Nat He wants his wife to go black, but she hasn't got to that point yet (they're younger and have kids at home), so he's offered to buy the room, meal, drinks, if we will let him watch. When I first mentioned it to Anna she was very turned on, and when I re-mentioned it she was all for it.

Of course I don't think anyone reading this so far expects anything less than her inviting him to fuck her as well once she gets going-but we'll see about that, I'm not pushing it, suggesting it, or resisting it, I'm just playing it by ear. I wouldn't have any objection personally, but I've not been asked either. I did email him back and suggested how we play it. My overeager imagination has already run though the possibility's of renting a limo already. I can't imagine her not blowing Nat in the limo.


New Player

She checked on the swingers site with our ad and mentioned that two of the guys were promising, meaning that they were in the right age bracket, mentioned in their profile about discretion, no drama, and enjoying couples. And the guys are black of course.

So with drinks in us she decided to call a couple of them, and short version we're looking at one hook up Thursday or so, and another Sunday. Should be interesting. She is now more interested in variety and reveling in how each lover is a little different.

Monday

We got drunk and fucked and with a marker I wrote Slut for black Dick, with "black" on one boob, "Dick" on the other, and underneath "Loves BBC". I'm getting carried away with this marker stuff.


Wednesday
Made my second trip for rubbers today, just in case, come to find out I still had plenty in the zip up bank bag, but on at least eight different fucks I have handed one of her black lovers either a Trojan Magnum or Magnum XL. Reason I know is I bought a dozen of each and that's the count.


She's gotten more aggressive in her answering mail on the swinger site, and is really hot for this guy in the town a little north of us. She says "I have a good feeling about him." For sure I can tell the excitement. Tonight I'm charging batteries on all the cameras and getting everything ready, bought some more blank tape. Our daughter may come home which may screw up Sunday afternoon (at least for fucking).


She also ordered a Q for her Queen of spades ankle bracelet. I think it is sinking home to her that she can fuck everyone she wants, and I can definitely see something coming in that vein.

Guess we'll see.

The Beginning--AGAIN--retrospect

To my dismay I have just discovered that this blog does not keep ALL posts -- and deleted the beginnings of this journey. (I guess it rotates after a few months or something). However I do not think it is possible for a blog reader to understand where we're going if you don't know where we've come from. So I am going to repost my original opening paragraphs for this blog, which does start at the beginning.
I think I will open a "Prelude" to this blog for anyone who does want to start at the beginning. Meanwhile here is the opening blog posts from Day 1

Introduction:

“Ten toes up, ten toes down, two bare asses going round and around” The punchline to an old joke, but it is a rough paraphrase of the scene in front of me. Underneath the rising and falling black male ass are two long tanned widespread white legs, knees pulled up to her shoulders. Between those spread legs I can see her very swollen pussy lips parted by his condom-encased cock, glistening with her moist juices as he withdraws. Her pussy moves, seeming to cling to his cock with every thrust in and out.
I could close my eyes and know when he thrusts in, because at the depth of every stroke there is a soft grunt, and then an audible “ahhhh” as he withdraws a little, along with an occasional whimper or an “Oh god, I love it.”
I am there, watching this scene, standing behind a video camera.
The white woman underneath this well hung black guy, the woman moaning in pleasure from the strong fucking she is receiving, is my wife of many years. And she is fucking like this with my full knowledge, consent—and encouragement.

This is a long way from the young girl I met in high school and was the first man (boy at the time) to enjoy the pleasure of making love with her.

How she (and we) journeyed from that naïve, inhibited, straightlaced teenager to what, by her own definition, is today a “bona-fide slut for black cock” is the purpose for this blog.

We are from a small town where if our lifestyle choices of today were known it would be a scandal—so we must be discreet. But frankly we enjoy talking about the hotwife/interracial lifestyle or those who want to be in the lifestyle. Maybe we can accomplish that with this blog.

Pre-Beginning

When I first saw her it was love and lust at first site. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and I wanted her so bad. I pursued her, even to the point that when I asked her to go steady she told me she was seeing this other guy—and she had to see him one last time before she would go steady for me. If that was what it took to get her, then that was what I was willing to do.
In conversations on dates she revealed that she hated clothes, and wished everyone could run around nude. I had found my perfect mate, I thought, because I did know after sneaking out my Dad’s Playboys that I wanted a beautiful woman like the ones in the centerfold who didn’t mind being naked! And she was on that level.
We dated for years during high school and had no had other sexual partners. I popped here cherry in the front seat of my Dad’s car while some friends of ours were making out in the back seat.

We broke up eventually, only for a couple of weeks, and I vividly recall walking into a dance late, catching a glimpse of her back as she walked out the door to leave (early) with another guy. It was obvious they were going to parking and making out—and since she and I were fucking I was absolutely racked with the painful idea of her fucking someone else, just to see what someone else would be like, and I immediately pursued her and got her back. She had not fucked him—as she said, girls did such things on first dates in those days. We married just out of high school.
I was insecure about my hold on her, and worried that at some point some other guy might take her away from me. My gut told me that. Years later she would tell me, “Well honestly I just married you to get out of a bad situation at home. I didn’t love you then. But I love you now.” Another time she told me, “I thought I would stay with you until someone better came along—but they never did, and not I love you.” But I’m getting ahead of my story.

My remedy for my insecurities was to be jealous, critical of anything she wore even remotely revealing, and going to great pains to insure that she wasn’t alone with other men and therefore able to become intimate with them and drift away. Of course as a beautiful woman she fought it, as she had always been a terrible flirt and loved teasing.

She did dress modestly though. I was just young and stupid—especially in getting along with the opposite sex.

We did not have a lot of sexual experience, but that didn’t mean we were not sexually curious. With me taking the lead we got into me taking photos of her, eventually getting to the point she would let me photograph her nude with an self-developing camera and not throw the photos away immediately.
We would fuck and video ourselves, we would try to make our own pornos with her in a wig and me in different clothes for different scenes, I would tie her up and fuck her, and in my own mind thought this was making up for our lack of other partners. I went so far as to blindfold her, using some pillows, and with a realistic dildo construct a makeshift dummy in the floor and have her ride it with the dildo inside her while she sucked my cock.

I was searching to unlock the place that was hiding the young girl who told me she hated clothes back in high school. I tried having her read Penthouse letters, but she would usually find one that turned her off, and she would stop reading and get angry, so I took to photocopying the ones that turned me on, assuming they would turn her on. Later I learned that some of the anger she expressed at me was anger at herself for being aroused by it. But understanding that would come much later too.
I though it was a safe way to live out my sexual fantasies and desires. I wanted her to open up sexually—I felt there was a sexy, slutty side she was holding in that I desperately wanted to see her let out. But with me alone.

Through all this I didn’t see that she was feeling guilt, insecurity of her own, and going through her own mental headgames which would later be diagnosed as chronic depression. At the time she was blaming me for all the bad feelings she had, and I couldn’t see it. A lot of the anger she felt was directed at me for my actions – by the role playing, the toys, the stories, I was the force behind the cause of the arousal—then the guilt.

We later learned what she was doing is called “passive aggression.” Every new sexual thing we tried would get her pussy pouring. But once she realized her body had revealed she was turned on to the idea , she would turn off mentally. Especially if I liked the idea.

With that as background I saw a talk show about women’s fantasies, which were described as a triad being a woman’s number one fantasy. So I asked her. She said yes. And instantly I had a new theme for our role playing and pornos to buy.
Our business was struggling, we were both working in it and had a huge stress load otherwise, and in her passive aggression mode she thought, “Well if that’s what he wants this is what he will get.”

She was nearing 30, and had remarked that I had robbed her of her dating life by only dating her during high school and marrying so soon.


Part II
As I said she is a beautiful woman, and flirty, and through business she met a guy who was a player, and she responded to his attention. In her frame of mind at that time she was basically a piece of pussy looking for a place to get fucked, and it happened. He seduced her with very little resistance on his part. She later told me she listed a long list of reasons she shouldn’t, only one or two reasons she should, and she went ahead and did it anyway.

She met him for a drink at a local bar on the other side of town. They just talked, but when she was leaving in her car, stopped waiting on traffic, he pulled up behind her in his truck, and got out, walking toward her. She lowered her window and he leaned in the window and kissed her. She thought that was romantic.
She started meeting him in an isolated spot in the woods off a local park, where they were making out, getting further each time of course, but they had not fucked. Then one day as they were fondling each other she told him, “I want you.”

A few days later when I was out of town he called in sick, she put the kids in day care and went to meet her lover. She was apprehensive, but determined to go through with it. As he took her clothes off she said she worried that her boobs would be big enough to please him, and had all these insecurities. He ate her pussy. Her insecurities faded quickly once he got his cock inside her. Without a rubber. He fucked her on her back, quickly, and she lay there with him, cuddling, and then rose up, sucked him back to hardness, and straddled his cock with her boobs hanging down in his face, till he came in her a second time.

He fucked her so hard that she bled a bit onto the sheets, his wife called about the time. They noticed her leaking, and he freaked. He was trying to wash the sheet and dry it out with a hairdryer. They decided not to use his house again.

The next time he borrowed a friends house (I was in town this time), and fucked her on his friend’s bed. They got naked, he got his cock inside her and was pounding her hard enough that some glass bottles on the headboard fell on the bed nearly hitting her in the head, but they were interrupted by a delivery man before they could cum. The interruption spoiled the moment. They got dressed and left without starting up again.

The next time she waited until I was out of town and with the kids in day care fucked him in our den, in my favorite chair, with her legs pulled up to her shoulders, he on his knees in the floor, and really got her off. By then, after four fucks, she was really letting go that time, eager, willing, and wanting to give him the best fuck he’d ever had. She said the sex that time was great.
A couple of weeks later she knew where he was supposed to be that night, I was out of town, and she went a club to surprise him and she did, she caught him with another woman (other than his wife). She got even more depressed after that, and the next few years made my life a living hell. On the way out she wrote “asshole” in the dust of his car window.

She was not through with him yet though. A couple of years later she calls him, they start talking more on the phone, and one day he mentions a store he will be going to. She meets him, goes out into his van, and starts to give him a blow job. A woman walking by looks in the window, and it interrupts them, but not for long. He gets out of van, asks if he can help her, she gets in her car and leaves. He gets back into the van and she finishes sucking him off. A few days later she fucks him at our house again, in our bedroom, in our bed.

Every time she fucks him during the day that night is one of her most aggressive that she is with me sexually. When she fucks him she fucks me as soon after as possible, she later tells me. She’s fucking two men only hours apart.

Then one night he is supposed to come by our house when his night shift job ends, when I am out of town, and spend the night with her, with our kids in the house, coming in after they have gone to sleep. She is supposed to leave the porch light on if it is ok. Late that night she has her hand on the light switch and comes to her senses, and says to herself that this is crazy, and she leaves the light off. She has learned that his wife is pregnant. He doesn’t call back and the affair fades away.

There is a time lag of about three years between the episodes, so she never really quite got him out of her system until later.

I’m oblivious to all this, but I know things are very wrong with our marriage, but we have kids and I hang around for them. Our sex life during this time was adequate, and sometimes she would let get and be the woman I thought I had married, but then she would go back in her shell, after giving me just a glimpse of that woman.

During this time she avoided being alone with me, as I would tend to steer the conversation to trying to analyze what happened during what I called our “dark times.” I was seeking understand, and in reality she had all the answers, and was giving none of them. She dared not drink, or let down her guard, lest something slip. So I was suffering her distancing from me. She felt trapped, as when we would be alone I would bring it up, usually on long car trips—she all but refused to go on a long trip alone with me.

For our 20th anniversary we went to the Caribbean which I had researched to find a resort that was topless (next to a nude beach as well) she would not lay in the topless area where there were plenty of people around—but she would go down the nude beach to an isolated area where we lay naked. People were walking by but no one noticed. She wouldn’t walk down the beach nude though. It was great, I was relaxed, I had seen the woman I fell in love with re-emerging on that trip. She said later that was the trip where she really fell in love with me.

Of course I had had some suspicions about her affair, there had been little things that just didn’t add up when they all jelled in my subconscious—but I didn’t say anything. But I had to know. The only way was for her to tell me. So I wrote her a long letter, explaining my suspicions—telling her that I forgave her for them if she had—but the only thing I wanted to know was the truth. With the letter I gave her a 1-carat solitaire diamond as a token of my sincerity. She later said she went down to the beach while I was taking a nap and cried like a baby. But she didn’t tell me the truth. In fact she looked me right in the face that night and told me she had not fucked anyone.

I was relieved, trashing myself for the years of worry and suspicion over nothing. I think it is called blissful ignorance. But I was a new man, my suspicions had been wrong, because she would not lie after what I had done to insure the truth from her.

A year or so later we went to Maui, went to a small nude beach with bother her because of several people there with clothes on—and later that night, with a flowered lei around her neck (and nothing else) I bent her over the rail on the balcony of our hotel and fucked her. She was totally visible to anyone who looked up, and the U shaped hotel overlooked a garden area and a bar in the middle of it, with quite a bit of foliage. It was one of the hottest things she’d ever done—and still speaks of it fondly. It was more for the danger of being seen, or her desire to be seen and show off, I’m not sure which—but it certainly worked.

First Time At Hedo

A few weeks later we went to Hedo for the first time. We didn’t know exactly what to expect, I read what I could and where I could and on the first day we were recovering from the trip and had decided just to take it slow and let the good times come to us. As we checked into the room I opened the bathroom, and noticed there were not curtains on the window, and as I looked out onto the quadrangle there on the upper sun deck in the quad a man and a woman were fucking, with a third woman at their head holding the woman’s hands.
I said something, and the bellman looked out the window, smiled, and said, “Welcome to Hedo”.
Frankly it shocked Anna so much that it knocked her back a little, coupled with the fact that there were very very few single black men that at this time--a disappoint for her.
We hung out at the pool the next day, and this woman was laying up on the concrete table in the pool while her husband was smearing/massaging her with suntan oil. I took a foot and started massaging it as well, and when she got up another woman got on the table and I started on her foot too. Anna was on the other side of the pool, and we were all getting drunker and when this woman got off the table I motioned to Anna to come over and get on the table. She refused, but we started talking to the couple whose wife I had just been massaging her feet.
I kissed her and next thing I know (I mean we were really drunk) we were going to their room with them. As we walked into the room the husband said, for the first time, “Now we only do a soft swap.”
It was not like we were going to leave at this point.
I got blown and Anna got eaten and she sucked the guy’s cock and I ate the guy’s wife till she came and squirted, but no one fucked.
As we all sprawled naked on the bed, Anna rising from having sucked the other guy’s cock, she moved forward, her thumbs on the woman’s pussy lips, spreading them apart, and out of the blue looked over at me and said, “I swore I’d never do this” and then she buried her face into the woman’s pussy as I moved to the woman’s head so she could suck my cock. I loved it. We finally broke and went back to our rooms and passed out (there was a tremendous amount of alcohol in our systems, then we got up very late that night and were both sick.
The next day I'm still sick at my stomach, but tough it out at the pool.
She comes up to me and tells me the two guys of the couples we had been hanging out with in the pool wanted to take her to their room and fuck her, and I said, “Well what about their wives going with me.”
“No,” she said, "they went back to their rooms for a nap."
“Then no fucking way,” I said. She neglected to have suggested that I go along and film, which might have worked. And right in the middle of this she gets her period, and I get the runs one day, and she does the next.

She started talking to this guy from Virginia, and later came back and told me that his birthday was this week and he was shy and not connecting and she promised him a blow job. He went with us to the quad pool for the body shots, and they poured chocolate liquor over the women and the men licked it off, and then the men got up, they poured it over the men, and she sucked my cock, and then in front of everyone moved over and sucked his, and then back to mine. We went back to the room and she sucked him first on her knees, and then over top of him till he came in her mouth and she swallowed, and then crawled on top of him.
If he’d recovered quicker they would have fucked, but he didn’t.
“Oh you white boys,” she laughed.

And that was basically our hedo trip. Four days, one getting acclimated, two being sick, and one packing to go home. That we were able to do anything sexual amazes me looking back at it.

On the way home she mentioned that one of the other men we had met there had fingered her in the hot tub while I was unaware several seats away in the bigger pool. And later, much later, she tells me that while standing at the swim up bar before him getting his blow job that the guy from Virginia had been talking to her, she had been playing with his cock, and pulled him forward and let him put his cock inside her, bare. He put it in for a stroke or too and then he freaked, afraid he would get aids or something.

She said that didn’t count as a fuck. I told her if his cock was inside her it counted.

And on the last day, as we’re waiting with our bags packed and ready to go to the airport, she goes to the bar to get one last drink, and this newly arrived black guy hits on her.

Wasn’t that much of a trip in the final analysis, but it sure beat staying home.

She Has More Black than White

Her first time with her third black lover was a pivotal night in our interracial journey. She met and fucked her third different black guy. It is pivotal because when his cock slid inside her it would mark the moment that that she had felt more different black cocks inside her that white.
As for the night itself, she had responded to an email from him and in turn got a number from him to call. The call went well and we decided to meet in New Orleans. We were on a trip in that direction so we decided to stay over. We met in the bar, he was late, and called a couple of times as he was stuck in traffice, heightening my wife’s anticipation.
When he arrived we exchanged pleasantries over a drink, things seemed to be going well, and we decided to walk down Bourbon street.
She went to the restroom while he and I stood there. restroom I told him we needed to get the husband questions out of the way: no problem with me being there, taking photos, and he was disease and drug free,
He asked “does she like anal?”
“Hell no, it will freak her out,” I answered.
We bought more drinks as we went down the street, they got closer. We stopped at one point and I took a photo of him with her, and then with him standing there she flashed her breasts at me and I took a photo of the two of them. I think it shocked him, but turned him on as well. She was wearing black pants with a blue v-neck blouse with thin shoulder straps. There was crochet work along the edge which allowed the top to be lower than usual and still be discreet, but made it easy for her to slide the straps down he shoulder and flash.

We turned back to our hotel.
He kissed her in the hall as I unlocked the door, and they stepped inside and continued kissing. I have to say it was different this time. She was more comfortable with everything—I’m not sure if it was the drinks, him, or just the familiarity of how this was done, but she was more into it.
The stripped each other while they kissed. She leaned over from the waist to suck him and instead he pulled her up into his arms and then leaning down picked her up with his arms under her knees and back. As she kissed him carried her to the bed. They got in a 69, with him on top and she sucked his cock with her head hanging off the bed, and he was long. They reversed positions, kissed some more, and he reached for the nightstand and opened a condom. Then she moved up, and as she spread her legs he moved between her, parted her lips with the head of his cock and slowly slid it inside her. My wife was now by my definition a true slut for black cock, as she had now fucked more black cock than white.
He fucked her that way until she came, and squirted, then he turned here on her on her side and fucked her, and she was letting go on a level I had never seen. He wasn’t talking to her like Kevin, but was just fucking her continually, without coming, and she was moaning, screaming, and punctuating inbetween with “Yess”, “Oh my God,” “Yeeesss”. He fucked her till she squirted, and then changed her position again , doggy this time, and they took a break. She went to get a bottle of water, and he met her before she could get back to the bed, kissing her and moving to slide his cock inside her as she stood there, fucking her until she came, and squirted again, soaking the carpet. She was spraying her juices, and coming as loud as I have ever heard her come.
He laid her on the bed and climbed on top of her again and put his cock inside her and began pumping his cock in and out of her and she was coming again. There is not a lot of description that be added her, except to say she was moaning, coming, squirting, sometimes with her legs up to her shoulders, sometimes with her legs down, and with him continually fucking her. I had never seen anything like it. He didn’t stop—and I could prove this by the video—he fucked her continually for almost 50 minutes. Without him coming. And with her hitting a plateau and coming for probably 10 straight minutes at the end. For anyone reading this that wants to hear detailed descriptions it is hard to add more to in than that. No dirty talk, no different positions, no smacking her butt, nothing but just heavy breathing, moaning, and non-stop fucking, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, and when he started pumping fast there was a “slap, slap, slap” with was combination of her bare pubis slapping against her shaved pussy and his balls slapping up against her n the down stroke. Her only words, over and over, sometimes moaned, sometimes hissed between clenched teeth, “Yes, Yes, Yes, Ohhh Yes”.
Finally he came and rolled off of her.
“Wow,” He said, “she sets the standard.” Then seriously he said, “You must be dehydrated from the loss of fluids.” My wife just smiled a smile that I can only describe as cocky and self-assured. Her chest was still rising and falling gasping for air.
I don’t know why but I handed him a dry erase marker. “Here,” I said, “Sign your work.”
He hesitated, laughed, and took the marker. Writing on her lower chest and belly, “3 Hours and Still going.” He kept talking about how she could just keep going.
When he left I added to the marker writing, “Third black cock. Official Black cock slut now.”
Then it was time for me to reclaim her, and did.

I don’t think everything had really registered about the night before. At least as much as I would discover later—but that is for a future post.
As we were driving away from the hotel the next morning, I asked her, “If something happened to me, would you only date black men?”
“Yes,” she said. “If we had started with white guys maybe I wouldn’t, but now, I think I would. I wouldn’t get married again though.”
“It was always a fantasy, you know that,” she said, “but now that we’ve done it, I’m used to doing it, and I like it.”

RECAP: If you’re new to this blog this is the narrative of how my very traditional straightlaced wife opened up her slut side to become a hot wife – and by her own words a “Slut for Black Cock.”
The progression starts at the beginning of this blog when we met as teenagers, so if you really want to understand her journey I would suggest you start at the beginning. But at this point in the narrative of the journey she has had an affair with a white guy, began flashing at Mardi Gras and progressed to letting some guys cop feels or kiss her nipples for beads. She worked as a phone sex operator, and at a March Mardi Gras met the first black guy that would end up taking her black cherry less than 8 weeks later in late April.
She fucked him again in late May, and did not enjoy her second black cock until August. This guy was had a huge cock, was aggressive as far as slapping her ass while they fucked and talking nastier, but after that time he never contacted us again. The just described even was in October. Everything sounds like it is going great—which is reason enough to know that in the upcoming posts it will not be that great.

A Day Closer

Monday before Fat Tuesday Day 2
Monday we were in a bar and a friend came in with a hot top, semi sheer, with a bra underneath. She told us where she had bought it, and we went to the shop and bought one. It was a loose weave sequined top that tied around her neck and with just two ties on the back to hold it on. She put it on, with in certain sunlight and in flash photos here nipples were distinct. She looked down as she pulled out her other shirt from underneath and said, “Damn, you can see my nipples right though this thing.”
“Oh, just come on, it’ll be all right,” I said, and she shrugged and smile, posing for a photo, and began walking beside me up the street. I watched the other guys looking at her, and she did too, and got excited buy it.

She posed for a lot of photos with guys, and then disappeared to the bathroom.
It came time to leave, and as we walked up the street she told me, “I saw my black guy go up the street today.”
“Your black guy?” I asked.
“My black guy.” She responded.

We got back to the room, and when there she got me on the bed, got on beside me and said, “I need to tell you something.”
“What?” I said.
“Well I went to the bathroom and was standing in line and this grungy Mexican guy was standing there waiting to go into the men’s room. He was getting obnoxious and was drunk. A young guy standing behind him asked me, ‘Do you need some protection?’
‘I just might’ I told him. When I went into the ladies room he came in with me and shut the door. I sat down to pee and he peed in the sink. I turned my head. When I got up and he zipped up he moved toward me and kissed me.
I asked him how old he was and he told me 26, and I told him I was old enough to be his mother. ‘Then I like mothers,’ he said, and kissed me again.
He has his hands on my bare boobs under the top, feeling me up. I was rubbing his pants but he wasn’t hard.
Then someone started beating on the door and I told him ‘we’d better go’ so we did.
“And?” I asked.
“That’s it. I told you about it.”

We started fucking, and talking, and I mentioned the black guy again, she was getting close to coming and I told her, “You know what I’m going to do? I have his card, I’m going to set it up for him to come to a resort we go to and spend two days fucking you.” She started coming immediately.
As we lay there she told me, “If I have to think about it and plan it then I will have a problem with it.”
“I know,” I said, “that is why I would just take you there and he’d show up. What do you think about me doing that?”
“I think that would be a fabulous gift,” she answered.

She Meets THE Black Guy

What follows is a day by day narrative of her last days as a non-hot-wife. If you've followed the blog so far you've seen the gradual steps that got her ever closer to these final days. If you're new here I would hope you'll go to the start and read how this began--and evolved to where we are today. This happened a little over two years ago.

Comments are welcome, and appreciated. If you have specific questions, ,we'll try to answer them. (She looks over my shoulder through much of this correcting me here and there).

Sunday before Fat Tuesday -- Or Day 1 in the final steps before the BIG step.
My wife and I had gone to a stripper supply store to buy a horny dress for this party we were going to attend, and as a second thought she bought a top that pushed her boobs up, and was sheer in the back and down the arms. In fact the top was sheer except for the push up panels that covered her breasts, and the way it pushed them up it doubled her cup size and appeared to be threatening to have a nipple pop out at any minute (in reality covering more than that). It was the hottest (and sluttiest) top she’s ever worn in public, and she looked fabulous in it.
We went to a bar, out to their balcony, and in a few minutes she went down to the end of this balcony where this large black guy was, and came back in a minute. “He’s played in the NFL” she said.
What she didn’t tell me at the time was that he was making some very serious moves on her, complimenting her, telling her he loved brunettes, grabbing her ass, and pulling her over to try and kiss her. (Of course she didn’t tell me this until later) She kept resisting, telling him at one time, “My husband isn’t going to like your hand’s on me.”
“Where’s your husband?” he asked.
“Out on the balcony,” she said. And at that point he backed off.
He kept coming round to her periodically, telling her that she was the most gorgeous, hottest thing he’d ever seen (i.e. the top was working). The more compliments and attention she got, the hornier she became.
Another girl flashed, and the black guy walked up behind her and grabbed her boobs from behind. I’d mentioned to my wife previously that I wanted to get a photo of her boobs being touched from behind by a black guy—but I didn’t think she really understood. After I saw him fondle the other girl I figured this was the time. He was standing there and I told my wife, “let me take your picture with him.”
She told him, he moved behind her, and as they both looked at my camera, she reached down, took his hands, and moved them up to her breasts, holding them there with her hands over him, waiting for long seconds while I took the photograph.
He whispered in her ear, “That’s more than I could have ever asked.”
I walked closer to them, he shook my hand, and asked where we lived. I told him and he responded his town, which I wasn’t familiar with and asked him for a larger nearby city, which he told me.
“Yeah, that’s not far, I could be up there in 3 ½ hours,” he said.

I handed him a printed out card that gave our website address without an address, phone or anything. He handed me his card, which gave his phone number and pager. I put it in my wallet.
What are you all doing today?” he asked.
“Just hanging out here, then we eventually end up at another bar down the street.”
“Kool,” he answered, “My brother and here will be here until Wednesday morning”. The tone of his voice was heavy with the implication that we would be around each other before the week was up.
We moved apart, and my wife said he came around and complimented her another time. We left to move to a different balcony, going back to our room first.
In one of her recent phone sessions with her regular guy she had cammed with him using a large black dildo I had bought her (the Sean Michaels lifesize version). I had wanted to film her using it with the camcorder (usually when I request it she says it is too big and hurts and doesn’t want to use it, but after she had used it with her cam friend I wanted my own better video of the same thing. )
As she started stripping she started talking about the black guy from the bar. “MY GOD he was so hot. He was the perfect body, did you see how wide his shoulders were?”
“Liked him?” I asked.
“Oh my God,” she repeated, “You said you wanted to watch me fuck someone, he’s the one.”
I hesitated, probably too long.
I had her repeat it, she said he was good looking, articulate, not a gangsta, and hot.
“You want to fuck him.”
“Yes, he’s the one.”
I put her on the bed naked, handed her the black dildo and told her to fuck herself with it. She was as hot and turned on as I have ever seen her in her life, she didn’t fuck herself with the dildo, she literally fucked the dildo, never really knowing I was there. Finally she looked up, saw me looming over her with my hard on and the video camera and she told me, “Fuck me now.”
As I began to fuck her I asked her, “Were you thinking about the black guy fucking you as you did that?”
“Yes,” she said.

We went back to the bar, he wasn’t there, and we hung out some more. She started flirting with a couple of guys. One was a large black guy (heavy through the gut too) and a German guy, and as they chatted one guy lay his head other on her chest, then the other, and finally she looked up, saw me with the video camera, and leaning down told both guys to kiss her nipples at the same time. She stood there a black guy on her right breast sucking and the German on her left, smiling at the camera. The both kissed an licked in the room full of people for a moment then she came closer to me, walked right up to another black guy, who was accompanying the heavy guy, pulled up her top, and he took sucked on her nipple while I filmed it.
A few minutes later a white guy came up with a spinner on his shirt, inviting here to spin it, and she did. It landed on a French kiss and she immediately moved into his arms for a very long intimate French kiss.

We left and went to a different balcony, from which we could see the one we had just left. I got to talking to friends on the new balcony, looked across the way and down in the street was my wife and one of our friends going back to the bar we had just left. I could see her inside, knew she was drunk, and new that she didn’t need to be alone there. (unbeknownst to me one of our friends wife had gone back over there earlier and he had asked my wife to go check on her). I went back to the bar to just to be sure was ok.

We went back to our hotel room buzzed and satiated, and I fucked her again once we got back, the stimulation still so very vivid in my mind. I told her the next morning, “Well that was a hot fantasy, but you saw the signs on the front of the hotel that say absolutely no visitors will be allowed in our room—under any circumstances”? I asked.
“Yeah, I did,” she said.
“So it would have been impossible to bring him back here.”

So ended Day one

The Final Serious Talk

Having learned by this time not to push anything, other than saying that the night had been fun, a few nights later we were in the hot tub, drinking, and we got to discussing our goals for an upcoming trip (yes Mardi Gras again).. I told her one of mine for her to get body painted, and another was a photo of her with a different guy kissing each nipple at the same time. Later she said, “And if we want to bring someone back to the room with us, can we?” I didn’t take the bait.
“We’ll have our friends with us.”
“We just need to leave them alone and go off by ourselves sometime,” she said. Then she started thinking about a family relation who has said that they might be attending, “We’d have to do it before they get there!”
Somewhere in the conversation I reminded her of her saying that she would be intimidated if I were there. I told her, “Well I’ve given it some thought, and I would want to be there for the first time to be sure you were safe, then I’d have no problem going to another room or downstairs and leaving a video camera on so you could really let go without me there.” She didn’t answer.
When we went inside I suggested a DVD, and told her to pick it. Surprisingly she put in, “Black Cocks in White Holes”, and as we watched a white girl being fucked by three large black guys at the same time, she was kinda quiet, commenting at times, “Damn they are all so bigg!” and she wasn’t saying it to me directly, just commenting.
I began touching her as she watched, and out of the blue, she asked, “Did you say you’re talking to a black guy that wants to come fuck me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, “he’s British, and all I know is he’s 6’4” and says he has a 10” cock.”
She started going down on me at this point.
A day or two later, in the hot tub, drinking, which is our common way of starting a sexual evening, and where she often lets the real erotic side of her open up. The talk got pretty hot. We started fucking in the tub, and she arched her back pulling backwards and in doing so I pull out.
“Sorry,” I said, “I’m just not 12”.
“I think I’m ready for that now, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“What, fucking someone with a 12” cock?” I asked.

“Yes.”
“Why?”

“Well I’ve realized I’ve been waiting for four years for my friend on the phone to come back and do me, but now I know it is not going to happen.” (This is the guy she was calling behind my back.).
So I simply let it drop.
At Mardi Gras she showed me her costume, which was harem pants and she said she might wear a thong underneath. “Can’t ,” I told her, “You were those with a thong you’ll end up getting fingered.”

One More Step Closer

Mardi Gras is our playground for the turning points in our journey. It is just easier to let go there, and once we’ve gone that far it is simply much easier to go there again. Anna doesn’t think a second time about flashing if it is in the right situation, like a bunch of friends drinking and anyone else flashing.
The next year we were on a balcony and we were talking to a younger guy standing beside us on the balcony. She had flashed him a time or two, and after I came back she went to the restroom and came back with a low cowl neck top she had carried in her purse. She had said she had to have a buzz going before she could wear it. Between her boobs I could see a thin gold chain. It connected to two rings that fit around her nipples that I had bought for her a year before. When she pulled up her top one of them slid off, and the best way to put it back on is to put it in your mouth and suck the nipple through the ring. I did it in front of him. Later the other one fell off. “Let me,” he said, and did a couple of times, kissing her nipples to do so.
That night back in the room she told me she had been kissing him when I had gone to piss. “I wish we had brought him back to our hotel room.” She said.
Over time I had come to the frame of mind that I wish she would take it further. But sober, and at home, at this time she would always go back to, “You know I was drinking and didn’t really mean what I said.” I believe when she has a light buzz she is more honest with me than she is stone sober, so I just nod my head and waited for the next time when she gets crazy.
I realize there are some checking this blog out for the hot sex stuff, and that is coming—but when I look back on things one of the things that interests me most is seeing the little minor things that were small steps beyond her comfort zone, a step bolder, a step sexier, letting another guy cop a feel or see some flesh, and each step was a step closer to becoming a woman who would now eagerly enjoy being fucked by another man.

Mardi Gras- Bold steps

I soon discovered in her journey that the big steps were always taken at Mardi Gras. It was as if no matter where we were in our lives, at Mardi Gras she could let go and do things she would never do, to let things spontaneously evolve thanks to the liquor and the thousands of others doing exactly the same thing.
So for those reading this who like to see their wives getting wild but she is a bit reluctant, I strongly recommend going to Mardi Gras and letting the other women she’ll run into there encourage her to go wild and crazy. I’ve seen my wife flash on a balcony and the girl beside her say, “I wish I could do that but I don’t have the nerve,” adding, “besides that I’m too small.”
And my wife instantly has ordered the girl two shots of tequila and before we left the balcony the shy girl was right in there flashing her breasts with the others.

Like I said, Mardi Gras is where she has taken her boldest steps in her hotwife/slutwife evolution.

After the year she had let the guys feel her up she decided rather than the brush approach from that first time she would opt for just airbrushed paint. (the photo of that is on this blog) (we didn’t realize until later that we had gone to a face painter and with her small brush was the reason my wife had sat topless on the open street while she was painted for so long).

So in a later year she was airbrush painted, and rather than wearing a vest was wearing only a layer of paint, and it was a rush for her. Guys were coming up wanting their photo taken with her, including a couple of black guys. I didn't notice at the time how into that she was, but it was the first indication of where we were going.
It was Mardi Gras so naturally we were drinking, and this year when I left to go to the restroom and came back she was dancing with another guy, wearing only paint from the waist up, and over the next half hour danced off and on with four or five different guys, including a young black guy. I was enjoying watching her. Before the night was over she went on stage for the dance contest, still just in paint. (another first) That evening might have ended differently had she not turned her ankle so badly that we could do nothing more than hop back to the hotel with one arm around my shoulder.

The memory of her going on that stage wearing nothing but paint, dancing with a succession of guys lining up to dance with her, and her obvious pleasure in doing did its own part of lessening my caution and jealousy and like a drug inducing me to want more of seeing the slut side of my wife emerge. As is often said in these wife forms, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Felt up in Public at Mardi Gras

Letting Go at Mardi Gras
Mardi Gras is where her wild side emerged and blossomed, and they fact we are where we are today is thanks to that event—because she found a place where she could get as uninhibited as she dared—and with others getting crazy and the drinking it allowed her to discover her sluttier side.
She had first earned her beads by showing her breasts last year, but this year she had told me that she was going with me but to not expect her to do a lot of flashing. In her words she said she was going to be a good girl this year.
The idea of showing my wife off has always been a turn-on, which she has resisted for years except for a couple of visits to nude beaches, and with the exception of Mardi Gras last year had never exposed her breasts in public
Sexually one-on-one she has always been adventurous, open minded, and loves to role play as we talk through different scenarios. When I say “how about a fantasy” to her, I will describe scenes much like I find in letters on the internet as I stroke her body.
While she wasn’t baring herself at Mardi Gras, she didn’t mind me walking around with my camera getting shot after shot of other ladies baring their tops for beads, in the true Mardi Gras tradition, but she had warned me a dozen times not to pressure her to flash.
There were a lot of college kids coming in for spring break, which meant the streets were more crowded with kids exchanging beads without flashing, dancing together, and just meeting here and there, and nothing quite like our previous Mardi Gras. We decided it best to look down on the crowd and cast a few beads from a balcony to escape the crush of people. Our first choice wanted a $30.00 cover, but the next balcony we tried was $10.00 each so we paid, went up and just threw beads and people-watched until we got tired.
This restaurant had a Fat Tuesday special of a Cajun buffet and balcony space from 5 p.m. till 12 p.m., so we paid in advance for Fat Tuesday. We had spent most of Mardi Gras just walking around taking photos of all the ladies flashing while Anna continued to be a good girl.
Fat Tuesday things changed. We had some drinks, went to a parade, and this time she chose a crochet top, which has a thin lining in the front but thin enough to see the darkness of her nipples if you’re looking close in the right sunlight, It is open weave in the back, and is one of her sexiest tops, so I had some hopes that she might earn some beads before Mardi Gras was over. We had a couple of drinks as we wandered.
We were talking, she looked up and said that there are some nice beads, so I moved to the side, she went under the balcony, motioned and pulled up her top, showing her breasts and as always when she flashes, her nipples very erect. A few guys ran up and took photos too, the guy on the balcony threw the beads, she put them around her neck and we continued up the street, pausing three more times for her to show her breasts in exchange for beads.
When we got to the restaurant that afternoon we went to the balcony where I began tossing beads to the several women eagerly showing in the street below. Anna was standing beside me and in a few minutes I noticed she was motioning to a boy in the crowd. He tossed up some beads and she reached down to her top, lifting up to display her breasts to the crowd below, where there was a lot of popping flashes and a few cheers. To show to a crowd was a real stretch for her, but she just smiled at me and sipped more on her drink.
I was throwing beads, shooting some photos, and watching some of the other ladies on the balcony as they flash, and of course drinking.
Anna flashed a few more times, and a guy in his early 30’s standing beside here was entranced with watching her show her breasts and he started talking more to her.
As the evening wore on I had to turn sideways as more people crowded to the balcony, and my wife would wander up, talk awhile, talk to the people around us, and wander back away from the edge, where she began having longer conversations with two different guys, one a guy from Ireland named Joe, who she introduced to me.
I recalled in one of my photos from the previous year a girl leaning out over the balcony and her boyfriend reaching from behind her and raising her top to the crowd. I had mentioned to the guy and his wife standing on my left, and now as I watched she leaned over and he ran his hands down the inside of her bikini top and pulled it aside, displaying her breasts to the crowd, which applauded.
My wife came up and I moved her to the front. I told her that the next time she flashed I would lift her top for her.
“That’s what the other guys have been doing with me” she told me. I was shocked, and then she leaned over to me and whispered in slurred words told me, “when we get back to the room I’m going to fuck your balls off.”
She leaned over and I lifted her top, taking special attention to rubbing her breasts in front of the crowd before pulling the top down. It was one of the most erotic things I had ever done to that point. Joe, one of the guys who had been lifting her top, she said, was standing there as I did, and he asked that I take a photo of my wife with him, so I took one photo of her and Joe with his camera, her arms around his neck, and her top pulled up exposing her breasts, and as I raised the camera he told me, “No one is going to see this photo in America,” it was going to Europe, and moved his hand to cup her breast. She didn’t object, so I took the photo, and then a second one of the same pose. They broke, she pulled her top down, and walked over to me. He asked to take a photo of the two of us, so we posed, and as he took the photo she exposed her breasts to him again.
It was turning into a horny evening, the crowd was getting rowdier and I took my place at the balcony edge again, throwing beads, taking photos. I looked back over my shoulder a little later and she was posed with the other guy she had been talking too, again pulling up her top for the photo. She was laughing and having a wonderful time and as you imagine the guys in the photos (and most of the other guys on the balcony were loving it), pulling up her top for anyone who asked. It was horny for me. I was a bit more uncomfortable when I saw the second guy reach out and cup her breast as the photo was taken. It was one thing for me to be taking the photo and quite another for her to be doing it not even knowing if I was around, but I had a good buzz myself and it didn’t seem to register.
She came back over, flashed a few more times lifting her top herself and told me she was going to the bathroom. About a minute later Joe told me he was going to the bathroom and he left too. With the drinks I had a few minutes of recognition time but it occurred to me that I probably should check on things, especially after she had had plenty of time to go to the bathroom and return. I could imagine Joe trying to sneak her into one of the restrooms for more than just flashing. I went around the balcony and entered on the other side and stopped. Anna was across the room just inside the doorway (screened from where I had been standing on the balcony). Joe was kissing her. They kissed for a while, broke it, and he kept his arm around her. One of the other guys came up with a camera, he whispered in her ear, she laughed, and he raised her top exposing her breasts for the other guy while he took a photo with Joe’s arm around her. So now not only was she flashing out of sight from me but also flashing whomever Joe was asking her to flash.
As she pulled her top down she looked up and her eyes caught mine and she went pale, knowing I had seen her.
Now at this time we were a long way from where we are today, evolving, and I this was way over the line for me. I went into the restroom and tried to get a handle in my feelings, finally calming down and saying to myself hell, it’s Mardi Gras, and went back out, I would let it go where it ran. Anna was back outside on the balcony by then.
I asked her if she was ready to go, and she said she wanted to stay. We threw some more beads, she flashed a time or two, once when I went downstairs and out into the street to show her flashing her breasts to the crowd and shoot a photo from that angle.
When I went back upstairs she pulled up against me and said told me she had enough stuff to do role-playing fantasies with for five years.
I asked what do you mean, and she said she would tell me back in the room.
It was almost midnight and I hurried her along to get her back to the hotel to hear about what I had missed, but I had to stop three times while she flashed some of the balcony holders on the side streets.
In the room we undressed and lay on the bed, her with her mouth near my cock, and my fingers reaching for her pussy. She was dripping, and she began to tell me what was happening while I was throwing beads, in between licks on my dick.
She was talking to two different guys, and no one was throwing beads. Joe told her he would help her get some beads and started pointing to guys in the crowd, motioning them to throw beads. She was breathing heavier as she told me. When the beads came in, he moved behind her and lifted her top to the crowd, then as he lowered my top he moved his hands to her breasts and slid his hands over them, tugging a little on her nipples, and then down her belly before he removed his hands she said, running her hands up my chest to demonstrate how he had felt her.
I would have expected her to slap him, or move away, but Anna stayed with him, which told me more than her voice was saying. I was very hard. What she told me next confirmed it. Joe went to the bathroom and the other guy she was talking to moved up beside her, he must have seen what Joe had done, so he waved to some guys to throw beads, and when they did he moved behind her and raised her top like Joe had, and like Joe when he lowered her top he kept his hands under her top and caressed her breasts too. I couldn’t believe my good girl who wasn’t going to flash was letting two different men feel her up in front of the crowd.
She said Joe came back over and I asked why she didn’t leave. She said it felt great, and she didn’t want him to stop, she said as she slid her mouth around my dick again. Then she added, that wasn’t all, and she continued.
Joe came back and as they talked he put his hand at the edge of her top and moved his hand up under it, feeling her breasts, feeling her up.
I asked if he lifted her top this time.
She said he didn’t lift her top, he just played with her breasts.
I asked if she had tried to stop him. She answered no.
She was panting herself, her hand around my dick, taking me in her mouth between sentences as she described how he pulled his hand out from underneath her top, talked some more and then again moved his hand under her top again, playing with her breasts some more. She told me, god she was so horny.
I asked if he had hit on her, and she said he had asked if there was any chance and she had told him no. Joe left and went over and talked to this other woman for a while, and came back, this time when he tried to put his hand under her top again, she stopped him, and that was when she came back over to stand beside me on the balcony.
She said that that wasn’t the horniest thing that had happened to her though. Toward the end of the night she went into the buffet to get a little to eat, and there was another guy, with that couple who were beside me, who had been watching her flash all night, and they talked a little, and she was eating the tail off a crawfish, he told to just suck it, and she told him she couldn’t, and he demonstrated. Then he told her wanted to take a photo of her, so she’d raised her top, and he flashed it. Then he told her to show her beaver. She asked him what he’d said, and he repeated it, and then said he wanted to eat her.
She said she wasn’t sure she had heard him right, so she asked him again. Anna said. He told her that he wanted to eat her, he asked her if she would go in the bathroom with him and she told him no. He asked Anna if she was sure and she told him no again.
She said that was it, but it was soo hot, being felt up by two guys, and being propositioned by two guys. “It’s really helped my ego tonight,” she said.
At this moment I was fighting to hold back from coming, but I asked if she liked other men touching her breasts.
She told me yes it felt great.
Caught up in the passion I asked, if she wanted more men to touch her breasts. Anna paused for a second, then grunted a yes, and at this point it was more than I could take, I rolled her to her back, crawled between her legs and sunk my throbbing cock into her soaked hot pussy in a single stoke.
As I began to fuck her I told her next year more men would touch her breasts, and I might even tell some of them they were welcome to touch her breasts. I asked if she would you like that.
Yes, Yes, just fuck me, she said arching her back as I came as she said it and collapsed.
As my breathing returned I told her that I wasn’t joking.
She answered she knew. In my mind I had this vision of two different guys posing for a photo with her at the same time, both of them holding a breast, everyone looking into my camera.

Even sober the next day she talked about how horny she was and glad she let it happen.

It was a bold step for both of us, and my reaction encouraged her for sure. Another step on her journey.

First time flashing

This is not the first time she flashed, but it was on the same day. She had a vest on with the brush painting looking like she was painted until she opened the vest. A guy had asked her to flash and another girl ran up and they flashed together. This blog is not a picture posting blog of my wife but she was flashing in public after all!

Mardi Gras Flashing

Showing off at Mardi Gras

We went to Mardi Gras and that was where I saw another side of her. I had always gotten off with her dressing sexy, teasing, and the idea of going where women were showing breasts for beads was hot to me, whether she indulged or not.
The first year we read all the tourist things, and she thought the guys on the balcony would just throw her beads by yelling, “Hey Mister, throw me something”. (it works but that is a parades, not under a balcony on Bourbon). So our first morning there she runs out, waves to some guys with beads, and she’s alongside a couple of college girls who flash for beads. They don’t throw her beads, and she doesn’t flash. She walks back to me, dejecting and says, “I’m not doing that.”
So we wandered around the French Quarter, enjoyed the parades and did what the guidebooks said, and came home. She didn’t flash. Not a single time. And she said she was never going back.
Then two years later we had business near there the day after Fat Tuesday, and I told her to see if she could find a last minute room, which she did.
Somehow along the time in between she had changed her mind. This time, the first few minutes on the street, up comes her top, and beads are thrown. A few minutes later she flashes the guy at the portajohns rather than pay the $2.00. She wears a sheer top with a vest, and then before the weekend is over, she is sitting on a stool on a public street naked from the waist up while a face-painter paints between her breasts with a small brush—and it takes a long time. (We didn’t know about airbrushing at that stage in the game).
And she ends up walking down Bourbon street wearing nothing but an open vest and some paint, (and a mask). Anyone that noticed, she opened the vest.
And that was only the start of fun at Mardi Gras.