Wife Turns Slut For HusbandRead more stories As you remember in the last saga my husband had begged me to turn him into a cuckold. As things turned out I found out that he wanted to see me fucking other men, and not just any men, but black men with big black cocks. It was a torturous decision for me, but as I loved Billy so much I finally made contact with a black man on Billy’s favorite adult web page, and ended up making a date with Jamul M. Washington that lasted the whole weekend. And that weekend my husband, dressed in a sissy French Maid’s costume became my favorite cuckold, and I in return became his favorite dirty white married slut for black cock. In fact I became so enamored with Jamul’s loving, and his big black cock, (BTW; You’ll probably see the words big, black, and cock quite often from here on in.) as well as his wit that when Jamul suggested getting a few of his black friends together to gang bang me I instantly agreed. Of course the problem, (And isn’t there always a problem?), that came up was in timing the get together so that all of the participants were available at the same time, including me, and Billy. As things worked out it took almost three months for Jamul to make it all come together. By then Billy’s feminization had become a fait accompli. Not that we’d given him great big boobs, but they were more than a “B” cup, and his hips, and derriere had taken a decidedly feminine swish, as well as a subtle tight roundness to it. His body hair was all but gone now, and the hair on his head long enough to put up in curlers, or a bun. The only thing he had left to remind him that he was a male was his dinky dingy now, and we called it his over grown clit. But best of all was that our marriage was as tight knit now as it had been before the transformation. I loved having Billy call me Mistress, and Jamul Master when he was over our house, and having my own personal cute little love slave to do all the menial tasks around the house is a housewife’s dream come true. In fact I no longer wiped myself after peeing, preferring to have my own living bidet take care of that. And not having to lower the toilet seat anymore was a fantasy come true. My only real problem in life at this point was that I started to get sick every morning… ************ “Congratulations, Jill,” Doctor Parday trumpeted as he joined me back in his office after my examination, “you’re pregnant!” I was in shock, but I had to ask; “How long?” “Well, I’m just guessing, but I’d say six weeks worth.” She went on for close to a half an hour telling me such things like that I should quit drinking liquor, and stop smoking if I did, as well as a few minor changes that I would have to deal with in the near future. But that I could still have sex was one of the bigger pluses as far as I was concerned. The fact that I hadn’t had any real sex with Billy in over two months didn’t even enter the equation as far as I was concerned. Billy was, and would remain my cuckolded husband even if it meant that he’d also be relegated to becoming a Nanny for my checkerboard bastard babies as well. Fortunately, or at least as far as Billy was concerned, my husband was nothing if not excited about the news, and I loved him all over again for it. I even gave him sloppy fourths the next time Jamul visited our house, and with some great news. “It looks like everything is a go for the gang bang next weekend,” Jamul smiled down at me as he continued to pump his big black cock deeply in and out of my well oiled fuck funnel with Billy jerking off next to us in his maid’s outfit. “That is if you two are also free?” Suddenly I was very nervous, and exited both. I had been waiting to be with Jamul in person to break the news to him about my little bun in the oven, and wasn’t exactly sure how he’d take it. After all, the baby could only be his as well as mine since he was the only man fucking me. We hadn’t talked about my getting pregnant by him, but I knew him only as a caring man thus far, and that mostly on weekends. “What do you think of Billy becoming a nanny?” I suddenly blurted out. Jamul’s pumping stopped in mid stroke, and I nearly fainted in anxiety as I waited for a reply. “Is it mine?” Jamul finally asked, and eased back down into my clutching pussy. He still stretched me out, but it was much more comfortable now. “It has to be,” I replied, staring back at him as my bottom fidgeted wanting more. “And how do you feel about being the breeding stock of black men?” His hips began to churn grinding our pubic bones together as he stirred my seething cauldron now while continuing to pump in and out of me. “I hadn’t really thought of it in that way,” I reflected, my hips rotating countering to meet his movements below, “but I think it’s wickedly perverse, and obscenely perfect.” “Wait until you see the doctor’s, and nurses faces in the delivery room,” he chuckled. “I know,” and I felt myself blushing beet red with anticipated humiliation knowing what fait laid ahead of me. “Knocked up by a Nigger,” they’ll say,” and his hips became even more animated then, “and what about the sissy? How does he feel about it?” And Jamul turned his head towards Billy who had stained his petticoats once already but was still hard, and still jerking off standing right next to the bed we were fucking in, our marriage bed. “I… I think… it’s great,” Billy groaned as his big clitty began to spurt out against his petticoats once again. “I guess that settles it then,” Jamul laughed, then threw a vicious hip wrenching plunge burying every inch of his mammoth slab of meat into my pulsing core, and giving my unborn child a sperm bath to play around in. “We’re pregnant!” Jamul couldn’t get enough. He fucked me in every hole I owned, and even came all over the front of me once before I passed out in total exhaustion around daybreak. And as my eye lids slowly closed the last thing I saw was Jamul bending Billy roughly over the end of the bed, and lining his still hard cock up with my husband’s tight white puckered little asshole. It was a first, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open to watch. When I awoke around two in the afternoon my own ass was full of Jamul’s cock with him spooned up behind me. The smell of sausage, and flapjacks nauseating me to the point that I had to jump out of bed, and run for the bathroom nearly shitting myself in the process, and even though I didn’t show, I felt like such a cow that I was sure I was lactating. Even though that was hardly possible, yet. It was just one of those things that Doctor Parday had warned me about happening as my body went through its transfiguration. “What should I wear to the gang bang?” I asked playing with the food on my plate as Jamul wolfed down a stack of pancakes, and sausage links. “Not much unless you want to end up in rags,” he chuckled, “probably a pair of thigh highs, and high heels. Oh, and maybe go heavy on the makeup, too. My buddies already think that you’re my whore so they’ll be expecting you to act like one.” “Just so they aren’t too ruff,” I squeaked out, then lurched for the bathroom again. ************ The whole week I was a nervous bundle of anxiety constantly playing with myself just thinking about Jamul and his friends all taking me together in my husband’s bed. Thankfully the morning sickness wasn’t as bad, and getting better each day. So that by Friday afternoon I was more ready than Billy. I’d vied for Jamul’s suggestion to wear black thigh highs with an elastic top, and high heels for both Billy, and myself. Adding see through matching black bed jackets that open in front with short sleeves, and that only came down to mid hip hiding nothing. The jacket as more like gift wrapping than anything else plainly showed which sex each of us really was as Billy was looking more like a woman than some that I went to college with. I took some extra time on my make-up, and nails, but truth be told, my pussy was dripping in heat the moment that I woke up, and I waxed my legs up to my armpits in the shower in preparation for the evening’s pleasure. I was so hot that I had to have Billy lick up the excess throughout the entire day, which worked out great as I got to dye his hair the same color as mine, and put both of our hair up in a tight bun. I’m a natural redhead, but it looks more like strawberry blond than a deep red/orange. Billy took time then to set up the video cameras. And by the time Jamul knocked at our front door we looked like dissimilar matching bookends. “Wow!” Jamul gasped. “You two look…” NEXT >>> |
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