Back In The Wild Life Again

Short version is she is going to get black fucked tomorrow night for the first time in almost two years. 

The lover is one she has been with a few times, and I did note the guy she had chosen just happens to be the one with by far the largest cock. She remarked, "Any woman who tells you size doesn't matter is lying."

I am counting nothing official until it happens, having been on this roller coaster for a while now, but this time she has refined what she wants to do and how to handle it. 

She says she has had her fill of dealing with reading the guy's emails, talking on the phone prior, dealing with the no shows and having all the apprehension and tension leading up to the actual meeting. Now how she wants to handle it is she wants me to set it up.

"You know what I like," she said. And I do. 

We also understand what caused us stopping. A series of weird guys (one who quit in mid-fuck because I was taking photos--as I had clearly said I would be doing), a no-show, some regulars being distracted when they met with her, and on top of that our becoming a caregiver for a family member, and having only one day a month in which we might be able to meet someone. We were forcing ourselves to meet, as if we didn't meet that day we would have to wait a month or so, never mind that we were exhausted from caregiving. 

But all that has changed. The hotel is rented, she is on board and looking forward to it, and a second guy a few days after that is meeting us for drinks.

Cautiously forward

I had ordered her some sheer tops, a fishnet stretch top that could double as a swimsuit (makes her look clothed at a distance so the neighbors don't freak when we are getting in and out of our back yard hot tub). She had been away a couple of days and as she came back I noticed she was bare. I touched her and she was smooth--I mean smooth as her cheek. "I got waxed," she said. "I did it for you."

It was nice to see her doing one of the first steps in what we had talked about her doing for me. Later I took a rub-on queen of spades tattoo and put it on her pussy. "It's big," she commented once I had it applied.
She left it that for a few days, until it started crumbling--and then she mentioned, "I'm not sure I want one permanently." I'll be fair, I went into a snit. There is a part of me that thinks if she can't do a big stretch for me on something like this--something that I said would be intimate and a secret between us, then how much could I ever trust on something else.

Later that night she said, "Well if I was with a black guy and he saw that tat, then it wouldn't be intimate just between us."  Later in the conversation, pretty well one-side as I was fighting sleep, she added, "You know if something happened to you and I was with someone else and they saw the tattoo they would know I had been with black men."

My first thought that I didn't speak was, "So?", and then the more I thought about it was again her dishonesty--she would like about it to someone else if she had a new suitor if something happened to me. I just shake my head sometimes.

I came home a day later and she had thick steaks, a bottle of one of our very favorite wines that we only use on special occasions, and I asked the occasion. She had attended a class in which the subject was introspective, along the lines of doing what you promise you will do. She was a total peace with going forward--with the tat, and the rest, and told me so. "I told you I would and I will."

On a related note, I was surfing some x-rated tube sights, opened a couple of different wife-with-black-guy ones, was watching them, and at one point I said to myself, "That black guy's voice sounds familiar." I kept watching and sure enough it was her former porn-star lover--the one guy she has already said she was willing to play with--and the one person who responded back and said he was ready any time but to just let him know so he wouldn't have a conflict. (It would appear he is is demand for this type of thing).

I watched a second one whose title sounded interesting--a heavy role playing one--and sure enough, her guy again. The biggest thing was that hit me was that he had always used condoms with us--but in all of the videos he was going bareback.

Not sure why but it made me pause, and something in my gut says he may not be the right guy to start back with.

Trauma, Drama, and Black Dick?

A few months back I had backed way off mentioned her starting back in the interracial lifestyle. We were both in a hole emotionally, her weight was up, which made her feel bad, and outside stresses were hammering us. So in a hotub drinking moment I asked her if she was able to be with her favorite lover again would she start back. She didn't answer.

The next morning I sobered up and told her that I had been insane to even suggest it and to not take what I said seriously.

Let me recap about her favorite lover.
She had met him with me on a trip in a town in which we overnighted. We had met online. On our return she wanted to be with him again. Three months later -- even though we had plans to be with him in a month -- she invited him to our home while I was out of town on business. She fucked him for 2 nights in every room in our house, bareback, and never let me know. I discovered it when he emailed her photos of them together in my home and she accidentally left her computer on.

It was a painful time that I didn't understand. Still don't. It didn't make sense then, and doesn't make sense now, on why she would do him behind my back when she could do him without objection in front of me.
She thinks I'm stupid enough to believe it was not an assault on me or our marriage.

Months later I discover that she has recruited her brother into a plot to continue communication with him, having a separate cell phone (which I found), again another round. At one point I went to a lawyer and bought wardrobe boxes at U-haul in which to pack her clothes. I had even considered having her stuff loaded and packed in one of our vehicles when she returned from out of town.

But as we are wont to do I accepted the pleas and promises of "I'll never do it again," "I'll make it up to you," and all that.

Back to the Present
So she had started back working out, we had been doing more role playing about her with black men again, and she has regained her libido--thanks to some natural body evolving and some hormonal therapy.

He comes up in the conversation and she says, "He told me he should apologize to you." That's when I picked up on it.

"When did he tell you this?" She started stammering. I got louder and more demanding for answers.
I won't go through the exchange, no need for that but the reality is she has continued to talk to him since cheating on me. Off and on, more just to keep in touch, some messaging, and I went back for over a year on the phone records. (Yes, she had used her cell phone this time). They had talked last October for 20 minutes, a half hour in December, then in March of this year for 30 minutes, and in May for 2 hours. That was when she told him she thought I would be willing to go along with their meeting again.

This time I told her that I figured I'd just leave. I didn't want to, but this wasn't worth the bullshit. I told her this time to say something different than the promises and words she had lied before. She didn't have anything to say that she had not already said and lied about in the past. The funny thing was from my side I didn't have the emotion. I didn't blow up, scream, cry, feel much. I was more numb than anything. And incredulous that she was this damn stupid overall. 

In my opinion this is a clear cut plot and conspiracy.

We had a drive back home and this time I told her I wanted he to do some things for me because I wanted to do them. For me. She wanted to know what I wanted. My list was short. Stay shaved. Get back into the interracial lifestyle from time to time. Dress hotter. Back to wearing her ankle chain with the Q and spade. I wanted to watch her with 2 black men at once. I wanted a tat on her shoulder. And the kicker I wanted a Queen of spades tat on her pussy. A real tat.

She said she would.

I was ok with that. With that kind of distraction and taking the less uphill road I could hang around. I live my life by my standards, not someone elses, and I really didn't want to go, I just want to be treated like I am appreciated. I would not make a good cuck.

And yes, my limit is on the razors edge of taking a hike right now.

Again after thinking about it for a day or two, I had more questions. And with a couple of drinks I sat her down and asked her, "You kept up contact when you said you wouldn't, you told me you were not in contact with him so my wishes didn't mean anything. You wanted to meet him. He wanted to meet you. It doesn't make sense that you didn't do him more that you told me. Tell me the truth."

She hesitated again, and I asked her with a very loud and determined, "Tell me the Damn truth."

Come to find out that after the first time, and after I found the pix that she had met him three months later for an overnight in a motel, and five months later, again for an overnight, but this time she got there early, they checked in in early afternoon, ordered food in, and fucked for all afternoon and through the night.
And yes, she did tell him she loved him.

So I guess the big question is am I insane for staying?  It is comfortable here. I have no expectations behind her being a slut, and being able to enjoy that part of her from time to time.  Other than her honesty about her fucking behind my back she's an ok wife.

I do want to see here with the tats, and doing a couple of guys at once, and I figure I'll re-evaluate after that happens. If it doesn't happen -- well that has its own set of answers.

I guess the next couple of months will be interesting.

And on another note she asked me to contact one of her old lovers, the porn-star huge one that hurts in certain positions, the only one of her old lovers (other than her cheating partner) that she wants to do. I contacted him, he is still in the game, and looks forward to reintroducing a hot white wife to black dick.
That could happen on a week's notice, but we have houseguests over the holiday, so everything is on hold for the moment.

That's the update. Big changes for me. Would love to hear some of your opinions--especially about my sanity in all this.

Positive statement

There has been a near total change in the last few weeks. She's started feeling better, has been hitting the gym on a regular basis, is logging into a calorie counter site a couple of times a day, and is shedding some weight. "I feel the best I have in over a year," she says. She things the hormonal surges, ebbs and flow of menopause are passed, and then she hit me with the shocker. As she told me:

"You not going to believe this but today I was in the post office and I saw this black guy he was so hot that I got wet looking at him. He was my ideal in a lover, very tall, very black, bald head. He was taking to a woman who had asked him directions, but I wanted to talk to him. I wanted him."

I asked her, "So you really prefer very tall guys?" She had said he was about 6' 7".

"Yeah, they have bigger dicks," she said.

Then I threw in the question that had been building for a while.

"Do you think that you're ever going to fuck another lover again?"

"What?" she asked, from shock more than anything. She heard me.

"Do you see us only fucking each other for the rest of our lives, and you not having anyone else inside you other than me?"

"No." She said. "I see me fucking other men sometime." I smiled. "But that doesn't mean I want you starting up an ad and asking for potential men to email, etc."

I had figured out my role in this actually--which is no role. "No, I'm not in this as far as pushing, enabling, or anything else. When you want to you can, and I stay in the background."

As we were having this conversation she was astride my cock and I was holding both her breasts, and I could feel her pussy soak as she said all that. The conversation faded away pretty quick after that though, we became distracted.

A Journey's curves, missed connections, and traffic jams

Imagine you are actively involved in the lifestyle of hotwifing, specifically interracial hotwifing, and everyone is apparently having a great time. And then one day it hits a wall--and your wife has no interest, even to the point of being angry if you mention it (you're pushing at that point).

So she's lost interest in playing, and the agreement has always been if one of you wanted to stop then it stopped. It is her body so she certainly has that right. (Of course you do recall the time that she said if you wanted to stop at that particular time in the past that she wouldn't).

That is what happened to us. I didn't understand it at the time, handled it poorly, which increased the anger and then to compound the problem she lost all interest in sex period. Suffice to say there was quite a bit of adjustment on my end. I didn't understand--I was too close to it.

Now I have a better understanding, and my wife seems to understand it more and our communication is much better. Here's our analysis at what happened.

First it was her age, early 50's by then, still very hot looking, in good shape--and then menopause. i.e. goodbye libido. That would end things for nearly anyone. But that doesn't come on instantly, it is a gradual decline. Meanwhile as that was happening we had a death in the family.

In addition to the grief associated it also meant we became a part-time caregiver for a family member, and it was time consuming and exhausting. We were still trying to maintain the once every 4-6 weeks of her meeting a lover, which meant we had very brief windows in which it could happen. She is tired, need rest, wanting to sleep for a day, and instead she feels like she has to take advantage of the brief window for a meeting. Circumstances are forcing it.

Throw into the mix that we had advanced in the lifestyle as you can read in past posts, from a casual meeting and going home to hosting lovers in our home, in her going out on a date, and going bareback with a couple of trusted regulars. She had even fucked one pickup in a hotel bar who brought his friend along, and he watched, took some photos with an extra camera I had, and would have enjoyed her too and did get started on a good blow job when his friend passed out cold. The standard meetings were still good. "The sex was incredible," my wife still says. But there was getting to be a routine in it too. On one of our last meetings with one of her lovers I remember thinking--where do we go from here, and is this going to continue with a lot more of the same going in basically the same 1. 2. 3. 4. steps of kissing, oral, blow-job, sex, hug-goodbye.

The excitement had worn off to a point. Still great, but not as great.

She had a couple of non-life threatening muscle/joint chronic pains that kept her in constant pain in the middle of all this too.

With all that working against us, we took a week off on a busman's holiday to Vegas. I had a couple of new guys lined up from our contact online hook-up site. We've emailed, texted, on a regular basis, up to a few hours before we're supposed to meet. Nothing. The other guy falls off the map.

Call it a perfect storm but the summation of it, according to my wife was, "This is just no fun anymore. We need to take a break." And we have done just that.

My response has evolved as well. Now my stance is "it's your body, no one wants you to do something you don't want to do, and certainly if you do not have the desire to do so. But if you do want to, you know I'm ok with it."

On our journey we are on the same page at the moment. It took a while to get here. With things on an even keel, where is it going to go from here in regards to the theme of this blog?

I don't know, we're rolling with it, not against starting again if and when she wants to. There are a couple of other statements along this line but I'll put them in a future post soon.

Meanwhile, if you would like to predict where you see things going, I'd be glad to see your comments on it.

Starting back

No, we are still taking a break, but I am going to start posting again for a couple of reasons.

1. One, the ice seems to be breaking. Libido is coming back to visit on occasion!

2. I think there needs to be a place that husbands who have enjoyed watching their wives enjoy other men (and other men enjoy their wives) who are not into eating another man's cum, or being feminized, and are a by-Gawd alpha male themselves, and strong enough emotionally--and have a marriage strong enough--that if the wife wants to enjoy other men, then enjoy.

I am tired of these black dom, sissy white hubby things.

I think two strong men can look each other in the eye and say, sure, my wife likes variety and if she's ok with it, and you're ok with it, then you all enjoy, because I'm ok with it. But start that dom shit with me, and it is not going to end well. Dom her as much as you like as it gets her off (if it does, and if it doesn't you damn well better be a gentleman.

I am glad to say that of everyone we have played with in this lifestyle, all have been within the respectful parameters we went over beforehand, and I was treated with respect too--and it was returned. And everyone had a great time and then went back to our real lives.

The End of the Beginning or Beginning of an End?

I've looked back on this and realized that to be true to the title of this blog, the journey of my wife (and me) continues--although it may not be in the erotic directions that it has been in the past. But then again the one thing I have learned after the years with my wife is always expect the unexpected.

I was cleaning off some old files, transferring them to smaller, more portable hard drives with password protection. I also cleaned out some old floopy's and some zip drives. And in doing so I came across the photos of my wife with the black man she cheated on me with. I said to myself, well, it is something you need to deal with, and she was out of town anyway, so I opened up the file and revisited them.

They were erotic of course--but there was none of the "magic" that they both claimed was there at the time. It was just two people enjoying fucking each other. In the same folder was some notes I had made to myself during that time, and one that bothered me, right in the middle of things when I first discovered the photos he had sent her on our computer of the two of themh together.

When first confronted I demanded she choose. She deferred, saying she had to talk to a friend first. And then later she said, "I will make it up to you." But then later I was reminded that she was still in contact with him behind my back. So I stewed on this for a week or two. What would I say to her that I had not already said?

Inside I was furious all over again. And I became angry with myself for not being able to handle it any better. And I did a lot of introspection.

I had gotten to the point since she has quit hotwifing that if she wanted to start back and spend do an overnight without me, if I was comfortable with the guy, that it would be hot. She had loosened up a bit and is willing to now role play anything--as long as I understand that is it for the role playing and not because she wants to do it for real--even if she gets turned on during.

So I dropped her going away with a lover and coming back and telling me about it as a role play.

It turned her on. A few nights later, after I had taken another look at her attraction to her lover from that time--the only one she told that she had loved him--and I had drunk far too much that night, and during the description of the fantasy I told her to imagine that I was ok with her seeing him again (she had told me that recently), but only on condition that she had to fuck someone else in between every fuck with him (like I said, I was really drunk), and then just for the hell of it I threw in that she would have to get a tattoo on her pussy--a black spade. The sex was good, we went to sleep, and neither mentioned it when we awoke. I seriously suspected she had been too drunk herself to even mention it.

The problem was other than talking about it in fantasy I was still hurt and angry about all of it. Especially the lies, the betrayal, etc. "It wasn't about you fucking him, " I told her, "you had permission to do that. But you had to betray my trust."

You can't live with someone for years without being able to pick up on things, and that night as we sat out on the porch of the mountain cabin, it all just boiled over. She kept pushing to find out what was wrong with me, why I was so angry at her, and I let it all out. All of it. And maybe I was more articulate this time, as she seemed to get it.

It was a rambling blow-up. Ranging from "that time you were spending with him behind my back was attention you were stealing from me, and you didn't have the right to do that." I told her that giving her permission to enjoy other men was a gift (she nodded) but a gift she had thrown back in my face. Half way through it she brought up the role play of doing him again.

"I do want to," she said.

"Could you without getting emotionally involved again?" I asked.

"No. I really do not want to see him again because of that." Then she got more solemn, and added, "I will make it up to you like promised. I will get a tattoo like you described if you want me to."

I paused then. "And I didn't say I wouldn't ever do another black guy again," she added, "I said I didn't want to right now--and I'm not sure if I ever will want to again. In the right opportunity, in the right frame of mind, I probably would."

This was one of those serious back-side-of-the-argument moments, when a couple actually come to a realization and resolve certain things and reach a more honest understanding with each other.

I told her I was furious with her for doing that--and I was furious with myself for even considering her being with him again--even in fantasy.

"I will do someone else if you want me to," she said, "if you think that would help."

"No, the biggest part of it in the past has been because YOU wanted to. If you don't want to I know there is some kind of price to pay down the road--and I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

"There wouldn't be a price," she said. The conversation stalled. "Are we going to have sex tonight or continue arguing."

"I don't have anything else to say," I said, "I have put it all out there." Then I smiled at her, "and this make-up sex is usually pretty good."

So we ended the night on a positive note, and I felt better, and I think she may have finally understood the gutting she had done to me over this, and for the first time I felt she actually felt remorse for having done it.

And when I first slid inside her, into her very hot and soaked pussy, I stopped. She opened her eyes and looked into mine. "What?" she asked.

"I was wondering if I could get a rain check on you doing someone else for me," I said.

"Yes," she laughed before I stopped it with a kiss.

Truthfully I do not expect anything beyond the conversation--but I guess the thing is the conversation continues.

The next day though she did say, "Why don't I get a henna tattoo there first and see how we like it."