10-05-2019, 04:32 PM
FROM SWINGING TO CUCKOLDING
LAT PART
January 31 (9 PM)
Maggie has been like a nervous teenage collegegirl for the last couple hours. Not entirely into the spirit of the evening, I nevertheless love my wife loved seeing the transformation the excitement had made. I fixed her a warm bubblebath infused with mango oil, and she luxuriated in that until she got 'prune fingers' and toes. As she was drying off, she did a couple spins in front of the mirror and then stopping in mid twirl, looked at her pubic area and then asked me whether her bush needed to be trimmed I said it looked fine to me (and it did). Maggie on the other hand had a more critical opinion of her looks. She frowned and sitting on the edge of the tub handed me the shave gel and razor, asked me trim her landing strip. I knew how important it was to her, so I lavished extra time and attention to getting every stray hair and making both sides even. I leaned back to admire my work. Her pussy looked frankly gorgeous to me and caught in the moment I leaned forward and spreading her legs I started to tongue her labia.
Maggie leaned back a bit and pushed her pussy lips and clit toward my lips. My lips were hungry for her and sinking low on my knees, I dove in passionately devouring her freshly bathed pussy, drinking in the fragrance of her arousal. Her labia started to swell and as I looked up from my kneeling position I could see her nipples pushing out from her naturally uptilted breasts. Encouraged, I redoubled my efforts, pushing her thighs apart, ignoring the bruises I saw there. Obviously, passion marks are a mark of ownership for the giver and an acknowledgement of submission by the receiver -- I had a strong suspicion where those hickeys came from but didn't really want to know the truth then and there anyway.
I was determined to make Maggie appreciate my abilities, and my tongue was all over her pussy, here circling her clit, there diving deep between her lips to touch her vaginal walls as deep as my determination would take me. The results were nothing short of stunning. Maggie hands were clenched, gripping the edge of the tub for support, writhing in joy, and alternating between moaning loudly and screaming my name. She held my head deeply between her thighs and I continued to lick her labia from south to north, teasing her clit with every upstroke. After several minutes, the pace of her breathing quickened dramatically. She pulled my head into her soaking crotch with both hands, holding me tight as she came in multiple shuddering waves.
After several long seconds, she released me, still breathing heavily, saying, "Oh my God, you're so wonderful, so incredible. That was the biggest orgasm I have had in like forever. My sweetest husband, I love you so much. I had forgotten how wonderful and talented you are."
I can hardly express how much her orgasm and those words lifted me, then she added, "I hope you're awake when we get home. I can't wait to feel your talented mouth on me again."
This brought me down immediately and reminded me of my place in the new order of our evolving sexual relationship. I continued to help Maggie prepare consisted by doing her nails, top and bottom in a vibrant crimson. She asked for my opinion on which dress to wear, modeling both for me. I was shocked at how over the top both were. One was a black chiffon, trimmed in silver below her breasts and extremely open at the back, right down to the curve of her buns; the other was a very revealing red satin number, barely covering her breasts above her nipples, and almost all the way up her thighs. The latter was in my opinion far too slutty, so of course that's the one she chose.
She decided on real nylons and shimmied into a lace-trimmed black garter belt, one of the items she had just gotten from Victoria Secret. She asked me to straighten her stockings and fasten them to the belt. I knelt down and as I ran my hands over her legs, my dick began to stiffen. My heart raced with excitement from the closeness of her. Her scent, the curve of her hips, the feel of her body heat were intoxicating to me. My loins ached with desire to be inside her. Then I felt gut wrenching angst as I realized her pussy was off limits to me tonight; that I was helping her prepare for a date with a man I could barely tolerate.
Maggie is a shoe-a-holic, so selecting a pair was a major effort. When she finally selected a pair of white 4" heels, she sat down on the edge of the bed and told me to fasten them for her. As I held each of her thighs, my erection grew and a tiny leakage of pre-cum lubricated the head of my phallus. I ran my hands up and down her legs, feeling her curves. Maggie sensing my excitement and desire, pushed me aside saying, "Easy tiger."
I noticed that she wasn't wearing panties and asked her about it. She said she hadn't decided whether to go with panties or not. She liked the smooth look of having no panty line to spoil the close-fitting dress she had on. I fumed inside at knowing that she would be even more easily available to Sean. Still I had to face facts that this was not a 'date' in the old college sense of the word. She WOULD wind up being fucked by him tonight at some point, and probably multiple times.
When she was finally ready, she spun around and asked me, "How do I look?"
I replied without hesitation, "Good enough to fuck!"
She laughed, replying, "I hope so sweetie."
That hurt me more than I can find the words to express. A part of me was incredibly jealous, but another part of me understood that she was a black man's woman now. Her body, her libido, and her desire were all tuned to a higher state of pleasure than she would be able to achieve with me. Like an addicted person, she could not be satisfied with me as an equal partner in bed.
The door bell rang and Maggie, still applying lipstick asked me to answer it. Sean was on the porch in a slick silver-grey suit with a shirt open half way to his waist, looking every bit the pimp I felt that he was. He walked right in and held out a hand for me to shake. I looked at him as if he was from Mars and luckily Maggie walked down the stairs just in time to break the icy tension.
"Girl, you look good enough to eat. And believe me I will," he said laughingly, then added, 'Did you pack a toothbrush?"
Maggie blushed, but said, "In my purse. Can we go now?"
"Not yet, baby. Don't you have some words for Jack?" then he added, "I hope thas' all y'all packed. You ain't brought them nasty pills did you?"
I looked at them both, "Pills?"
Maggie cleared her throat explaining, "It's nothing Jack. Sean wants me off birth control, and I have explained to him that it's a very serious commitment for a woman to carry a man's child. Way beyond having fun in bed. Rest assured I am still protected."
She patted her purse as if to emphasize the point.
Sean moved into her grinding his crotch into hers, "Baby, after you feel this inside you a few mo' times, you be beggin' me to breed you."
As he grabbed her ass, forcing her dress to ride up to her pubic area, he felt her bare skin.
"Oh girl, you ain't wearin no drawers?" he remarked lifting an eyebrow.
Maggie thought about it a few seconds, then told me, "Jack, be a sweetie and get me a white thong from the middle drawer."
I scurried up the stairs to fetch a pair, noticing from the corner of my eye that they had already started kissing. Feeling around in her ligerie drawer, I pickes a sheer, transparent white pair at first, then decided on a slightly more modest opaque synthetic set. As my hand withdrew, I knocked aside her tampon box and noticed the thick magazine style pamphlet for the first time. I picked it up, and saw the cover, which read:
"White Wife. Black Lover. White Husband. A Complete Guide to Managing Your Cuckold."
The cover photograph showed an obviously very pregnant blond, standing with her back against a tall black guy. His coal black hands were cradling her belly and her pale white hands happily covering his. In the background was a middle aged white guy, smiling happily at his wife and her lover.
My jaw dropped in disbelief. So this was the 'manual' Maggie had been talking about to Sean during their 'phone conversation. I started leafing through and stopped at the table of contents. the chapter title was very suggestive. Suggestive enough to explain what Maggie had meant about 'doing everything the manual explains.'
There was a chapter on "Channeling and Redirecting Your Hubby's Sexual Energy," and another explained how to prepare a husband emotionally entitled "From Hubby to 'Gal Pal'." There were several others, one called "In Praise of His Talented Tongue: Finally a Use for Hubby," and one particularly disturbing in view of the discussion he just heard focusing on "Black-Bred: Dealing With Pregnancy, Planned and Unplanned."
I quickly flipped to Chapter 1 and started scanning. It began:
"Face facts. You've 'gone black' (or you're seriously thinking about it) and you already know you're not going back. Every time you daydream or squeeze your thighs together, you can feel that big fat cock pumping inside you, touching you in places hubby can't even dream of. When you close your eyes, you can smell his funky musk; you salivate thinking of taking his cock in your mouth. You got it bad, white sista. So have the authors of this Guide. Between the two of us, we have been black bred five times and still we're 'married' to white hubbies!
How did we manage it? How do we use hubby to provides us financial security and the social status that a white man brings and still fuck a real man every night in the comfort of our own beds? This guide will reveal all the secret techniques, known by an increasing number of happy white wives, for turning your white hubby into a willing cuckold; someone who will help you get ready for a date, cheer you on from the sidelines, and lick your pussy clean the next morning.
In this Guide, we'll take you step by step to managing the new freedom and power that being a black man's woman gives you. You already sense the change in you, now create the change in him, your hubby. The first rule we're going to give you might seem crazy at first, but it's critical:
DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES FUCK YOUR CUCKOLD!
Trust us! If you backslide, if you have a weak moment, if you break his training you'll have to start all over again. If he insists, always remember, you can use the trusty standby, 'Darling he left my pussy so sore it hurts. Let's wait a few days.' The second rule is also critical:
DENY YOUR CUCKOLD ANY FORM OF SEX THAT IS NOT CHANNELED THROUGH YOU AND YOUR LOVER.
We will explain 'channeling' and use it over and over (and so will you!)"
I was so absorbed in reading this that I almost didn't hear Maggie calling insistently from the foyer, "Honey, where are we with those panties?"
I shoved the book back under her box of tampons and sauntered back downstairs. Sean was standing behind Maggie, holding her in an eerie echo of the book cover.
Maggie asked me sweetly, "Could you slip them on me darling?"
Even though I had an inkling of the game being played on me, I was too shell shocked to do anything but comply. As she spread her legs, I knelt down at her feet. Putting one hand on my head to steady herself, she slid one foot into the leg hole. As I looked up, I saw them both staring down on me, smiling. She stepped through the other side, and I slid them up to her hips, straightening them.
I stood up just as Sean said, "I don't see why you bothered. She will be beggin' me to rip 'em off her ten minutes after we leave."
Maggie interjected, "Hey wait ... twenty minutes at least!"
A complete and utter silence filled the foyer, and then all three of us simultaneously broke out into heady laughter despite the awkwardness of the situation. Some things are just funny no matter what.
With that, Maggie pulled me aside, and said, "Don't play with that little thing while we're gone. I have big plans for that."
She cupped my balls and even though I knew now it was a lie, I still hoped anyway. Giving me a little peck on the cheek, she turned to Sean and said, "Ready baby?"
Sean looked at me and said, "Don't worry 'bout nothin' Jack, I will have her back tomorrow undamaged..." then thinking for a moment added, "Well, I'll be doin' some major damage but Maggie won't be complaining!"
With that, they strolled toward his pearl white Lexus, and I could hear the high pitched lilt of her laughter as she responded to his conversation. In a few more moments, they were out of sight.
February 1 (4 AM)
I spent most of the night trying to figure things out. Why was I, on the one hand justifiably jealous of what was developing between my wife and her powerful black lover, and on the other hand so incredibly excited by
How had Sean become so important to her in the short space of a few weeks?
I mixed a Jack and Coke, and another, then spent another hour pacing restlessly. Eventually, I went back to my wife's lingerie drawer, grabbed the and dove in reading the "White Wife. Black Lover. White Husband" manual. It was slickly produced, so obviously there was a significant market for this kind of educational material.
I was able to identify several of the techniques Maggie seemed to be using on me.
In one chapter, a wife was advised to praise her husband or to emphasize his insignificance down depending on the situation:
"...As you begin his training, your cuckold is in a delicate emotional state. He may know about (or in some cases already watched) you making love with your boyfriend. Consider what an emotional shock this is to his delicate male ego. It's important that you ease him into acceptance of a new definition of 'normal.' After all, you love him and if you do your homework, you'll move him active sex partner to enthusiastic cheer leader in amazingly short order."
Maggie had scrawled notes in the margins on several pages, sometimes just a simple checkmark, and here she had written, "Might be hard with Jack." Afterwards, she had stricken the comment out, replacing it with a simple checkmark.
The chapter went on to teach various techniques for helping a husband accept and enjoy seeing his wife filled by a superior black man. It explained that a white wife's duty early on should always remember to build up a husband's ego up for his willingness to be open, for his acceptance, and for his unconditional love, while at the same time learning to acknowledge and understand that her black boyfriend's needs always come first. Here Maggie had put a checkmark.
It gave the wife techniques to help hubby to redirect his sexual energy, and to make him eager to push you into your boyfriend's arms as his ticket to sexual satisfaction in this new relationship. To accomplish this, it said that although it might seem cruel at first, she would need to push him onto the sexual sideline. Finally, it explained that the goal is a husband who begs you to fuck her black lover, and receives his own gratification through you. Maggie added her own comment, saying "Yes, finally."
In another chapter, the one titled, "Black-bred, The Happiest Time." advised:
"One of the greatest gifts you can give your black lover is to bear his beautiful black babies. When you make the decision to let him impregnate you, you may find that every orgasm will be more intense than the last (we know, having done this a collective five times.) You may even want to make a ceremony out of the decision. We found that surrendering your birth control to you man while your hubby watches creates an incredible sexual high for everyone involved. One of the authors remembers actually squirting for the first time in her life.
In any case, this is a pretty big deal, and you should give it much thought. Once it's done, it's not easily undone, and it is a lifetime commitment that will mark you as a black man's woman for life. Which may be exactly the statement you want to make. Also, don't be surprised if your boyfriend starts putting on pressure to share you with his friends. It's a natural part of being bred by a black man, and you should (and WILL) enjoy it. Hugely. Repeatedly. Trust us."
At the head of this chapter, Maggie had written, "No way!", then scratched it out, then later in another pen color written, "Maybe."
I read through the night, and not getting a call from Maggie, fell asleep. A reader may well think that, having read the wive's 'playbook', I would now be so well-informed that I would be able to fight against what was happening. I would remind readers that just because you have watched the Dallas Cowboys doesn't mean you can compete with them. Other guys who have become cuckolds or are going through this now will confirm what I am saying.
Some things were suddenly becoming painfully clear to me. One of which was that Maggie and Sean were not strangers and that meeting them a few weeks ago was no accident. Another was that Maggie and Sean had been planning to transform the dynamics of our relationship, perhaps for more than the few weeks that I had assumed Sean had been in our life. Finally, there was the issue of Debbie and what I should do about her open invitation to become a bigger part of her life.
Against that was the fact that I am flat out in love with Maggie, and have always been enchanted by her, and would do anything not to lose her. More than anyone or anything else she is my reason for living. I hope those of you going forward with reading these entries from my journal to understand this simple fact.
(The End)
LAT PART
January 31 (9 PM)
Maggie has been like a nervous teenage collegegirl for the last couple hours. Not entirely into the spirit of the evening, I nevertheless love my wife loved seeing the transformation the excitement had made. I fixed her a warm bubblebath infused with mango oil, and she luxuriated in that until she got 'prune fingers' and toes. As she was drying off, she did a couple spins in front of the mirror and then stopping in mid twirl, looked at her pubic area and then asked me whether her bush needed to be trimmed I said it looked fine to me (and it did). Maggie on the other hand had a more critical opinion of her looks. She frowned and sitting on the edge of the tub handed me the shave gel and razor, asked me trim her landing strip. I knew how important it was to her, so I lavished extra time and attention to getting every stray hair and making both sides even. I leaned back to admire my work. Her pussy looked frankly gorgeous to me and caught in the moment I leaned forward and spreading her legs I started to tongue her labia.
Maggie leaned back a bit and pushed her pussy lips and clit toward my lips. My lips were hungry for her and sinking low on my knees, I dove in passionately devouring her freshly bathed pussy, drinking in the fragrance of her arousal. Her labia started to swell and as I looked up from my kneeling position I could see her nipples pushing out from her naturally uptilted breasts. Encouraged, I redoubled my efforts, pushing her thighs apart, ignoring the bruises I saw there. Obviously, passion marks are a mark of ownership for the giver and an acknowledgement of submission by the receiver -- I had a strong suspicion where those hickeys came from but didn't really want to know the truth then and there anyway.
I was determined to make Maggie appreciate my abilities, and my tongue was all over her pussy, here circling her clit, there diving deep between her lips to touch her vaginal walls as deep as my determination would take me. The results were nothing short of stunning. Maggie hands were clenched, gripping the edge of the tub for support, writhing in joy, and alternating between moaning loudly and screaming my name. She held my head deeply between her thighs and I continued to lick her labia from south to north, teasing her clit with every upstroke. After several minutes, the pace of her breathing quickened dramatically. She pulled my head into her soaking crotch with both hands, holding me tight as she came in multiple shuddering waves.
After several long seconds, she released me, still breathing heavily, saying, "Oh my God, you're so wonderful, so incredible. That was the biggest orgasm I have had in like forever. My sweetest husband, I love you so much. I had forgotten how wonderful and talented you are."
I can hardly express how much her orgasm and those words lifted me, then she added, "I hope you're awake when we get home. I can't wait to feel your talented mouth on me again."
This brought me down immediately and reminded me of my place in the new order of our evolving sexual relationship. I continued to help Maggie prepare consisted by doing her nails, top and bottom in a vibrant crimson. She asked for my opinion on which dress to wear, modeling both for me. I was shocked at how over the top both were. One was a black chiffon, trimmed in silver below her breasts and extremely open at the back, right down to the curve of her buns; the other was a very revealing red satin number, barely covering her breasts above her nipples, and almost all the way up her thighs. The latter was in my opinion far too slutty, so of course that's the one she chose.
She decided on real nylons and shimmied into a lace-trimmed black garter belt, one of the items she had just gotten from Victoria Secret. She asked me to straighten her stockings and fasten them to the belt. I knelt down and as I ran my hands over her legs, my dick began to stiffen. My heart raced with excitement from the closeness of her. Her scent, the curve of her hips, the feel of her body heat were intoxicating to me. My loins ached with desire to be inside her. Then I felt gut wrenching angst as I realized her pussy was off limits to me tonight; that I was helping her prepare for a date with a man I could barely tolerate.
Maggie is a shoe-a-holic, so selecting a pair was a major effort. When she finally selected a pair of white 4" heels, she sat down on the edge of the bed and told me to fasten them for her. As I held each of her thighs, my erection grew and a tiny leakage of pre-cum lubricated the head of my phallus. I ran my hands up and down her legs, feeling her curves. Maggie sensing my excitement and desire, pushed me aside saying, "Easy tiger."
I noticed that she wasn't wearing panties and asked her about it. She said she hadn't decided whether to go with panties or not. She liked the smooth look of having no panty line to spoil the close-fitting dress she had on. I fumed inside at knowing that she would be even more easily available to Sean. Still I had to face facts that this was not a 'date' in the old college sense of the word. She WOULD wind up being fucked by him tonight at some point, and probably multiple times.
When she was finally ready, she spun around and asked me, "How do I look?"
I replied without hesitation, "Good enough to fuck!"
She laughed, replying, "I hope so sweetie."
That hurt me more than I can find the words to express. A part of me was incredibly jealous, but another part of me understood that she was a black man's woman now. Her body, her libido, and her desire were all tuned to a higher state of pleasure than she would be able to achieve with me. Like an addicted person, she could not be satisfied with me as an equal partner in bed.
The door bell rang and Maggie, still applying lipstick asked me to answer it. Sean was on the porch in a slick silver-grey suit with a shirt open half way to his waist, looking every bit the pimp I felt that he was. He walked right in and held out a hand for me to shake. I looked at him as if he was from Mars and luckily Maggie walked down the stairs just in time to break the icy tension.
"Girl, you look good enough to eat. And believe me I will," he said laughingly, then added, 'Did you pack a toothbrush?"
Maggie blushed, but said, "In my purse. Can we go now?"
"Not yet, baby. Don't you have some words for Jack?" then he added, "I hope thas' all y'all packed. You ain't brought them nasty pills did you?"
I looked at them both, "Pills?"
Maggie cleared her throat explaining, "It's nothing Jack. Sean wants me off birth control, and I have explained to him that it's a very serious commitment for a woman to carry a man's child. Way beyond having fun in bed. Rest assured I am still protected."
She patted her purse as if to emphasize the point.
Sean moved into her grinding his crotch into hers, "Baby, after you feel this inside you a few mo' times, you be beggin' me to breed you."
As he grabbed her ass, forcing her dress to ride up to her pubic area, he felt her bare skin.
"Oh girl, you ain't wearin no drawers?" he remarked lifting an eyebrow.
Maggie thought about it a few seconds, then told me, "Jack, be a sweetie and get me a white thong from the middle drawer."
I scurried up the stairs to fetch a pair, noticing from the corner of my eye that they had already started kissing. Feeling around in her ligerie drawer, I pickes a sheer, transparent white pair at first, then decided on a slightly more modest opaque synthetic set. As my hand withdrew, I knocked aside her tampon box and noticed the thick magazine style pamphlet for the first time. I picked it up, and saw the cover, which read:
"White Wife. Black Lover. White Husband. A Complete Guide to Managing Your Cuckold."
The cover photograph showed an obviously very pregnant blond, standing with her back against a tall black guy. His coal black hands were cradling her belly and her pale white hands happily covering his. In the background was a middle aged white guy, smiling happily at his wife and her lover.
My jaw dropped in disbelief. So this was the 'manual' Maggie had been talking about to Sean during their 'phone conversation. I started leafing through and stopped at the table of contents. the chapter title was very suggestive. Suggestive enough to explain what Maggie had meant about 'doing everything the manual explains.'
There was a chapter on "Channeling and Redirecting Your Hubby's Sexual Energy," and another explained how to prepare a husband emotionally entitled "From Hubby to 'Gal Pal'." There were several others, one called "In Praise of His Talented Tongue: Finally a Use for Hubby," and one particularly disturbing in view of the discussion he just heard focusing on "Black-Bred: Dealing With Pregnancy, Planned and Unplanned."
I quickly flipped to Chapter 1 and started scanning. It began:
"Face facts. You've 'gone black' (or you're seriously thinking about it) and you already know you're not going back. Every time you daydream or squeeze your thighs together, you can feel that big fat cock pumping inside you, touching you in places hubby can't even dream of. When you close your eyes, you can smell his funky musk; you salivate thinking of taking his cock in your mouth. You got it bad, white sista. So have the authors of this Guide. Between the two of us, we have been black bred five times and still we're 'married' to white hubbies!
How did we manage it? How do we use hubby to provides us financial security and the social status that a white man brings and still fuck a real man every night in the comfort of our own beds? This guide will reveal all the secret techniques, known by an increasing number of happy white wives, for turning your white hubby into a willing cuckold; someone who will help you get ready for a date, cheer you on from the sidelines, and lick your pussy clean the next morning.
In this Guide, we'll take you step by step to managing the new freedom and power that being a black man's woman gives you. You already sense the change in you, now create the change in him, your hubby. The first rule we're going to give you might seem crazy at first, but it's critical:
DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES FUCK YOUR CUCKOLD!
Trust us! If you backslide, if you have a weak moment, if you break his training you'll have to start all over again. If he insists, always remember, you can use the trusty standby, 'Darling he left my pussy so sore it hurts. Let's wait a few days.' The second rule is also critical:
DENY YOUR CUCKOLD ANY FORM OF SEX THAT IS NOT CHANNELED THROUGH YOU AND YOUR LOVER.
We will explain 'channeling' and use it over and over (and so will you!)"
I was so absorbed in reading this that I almost didn't hear Maggie calling insistently from the foyer, "Honey, where are we with those panties?"
I shoved the book back under her box of tampons and sauntered back downstairs. Sean was standing behind Maggie, holding her in an eerie echo of the book cover.
Maggie asked me sweetly, "Could you slip them on me darling?"
Even though I had an inkling of the game being played on me, I was too shell shocked to do anything but comply. As she spread her legs, I knelt down at her feet. Putting one hand on my head to steady herself, she slid one foot into the leg hole. As I looked up, I saw them both staring down on me, smiling. She stepped through the other side, and I slid them up to her hips, straightening them.
I stood up just as Sean said, "I don't see why you bothered. She will be beggin' me to rip 'em off her ten minutes after we leave."
Maggie interjected, "Hey wait ... twenty minutes at least!"
A complete and utter silence filled the foyer, and then all three of us simultaneously broke out into heady laughter despite the awkwardness of the situation. Some things are just funny no matter what.
With that, Maggie pulled me aside, and said, "Don't play with that little thing while we're gone. I have big plans for that."
She cupped my balls and even though I knew now it was a lie, I still hoped anyway. Giving me a little peck on the cheek, she turned to Sean and said, "Ready baby?"
Sean looked at me and said, "Don't worry 'bout nothin' Jack, I will have her back tomorrow undamaged..." then thinking for a moment added, "Well, I'll be doin' some major damage but Maggie won't be complaining!"
With that, they strolled toward his pearl white Lexus, and I could hear the high pitched lilt of her laughter as she responded to his conversation. In a few more moments, they were out of sight.
February 1 (4 AM)
I spent most of the night trying to figure things out. Why was I, on the one hand justifiably jealous of what was developing between my wife and her powerful black lover, and on the other hand so incredibly excited by
How had Sean become so important to her in the short space of a few weeks?
I mixed a Jack and Coke, and another, then spent another hour pacing restlessly. Eventually, I went back to my wife's lingerie drawer, grabbed the and dove in reading the "White Wife. Black Lover. White Husband" manual. It was slickly produced, so obviously there was a significant market for this kind of educational material.
I was able to identify several of the techniques Maggie seemed to be using on me.
In one chapter, a wife was advised to praise her husband or to emphasize his insignificance down depending on the situation:
"...As you begin his training, your cuckold is in a delicate emotional state. He may know about (or in some cases already watched) you making love with your boyfriend. Consider what an emotional shock this is to his delicate male ego. It's important that you ease him into acceptance of a new definition of 'normal.' After all, you love him and if you do your homework, you'll move him active sex partner to enthusiastic cheer leader in amazingly short order."
Maggie had scrawled notes in the margins on several pages, sometimes just a simple checkmark, and here she had written, "Might be hard with Jack." Afterwards, she had stricken the comment out, replacing it with a simple checkmark.
The chapter went on to teach various techniques for helping a husband accept and enjoy seeing his wife filled by a superior black man. It explained that a white wife's duty early on should always remember to build up a husband's ego up for his willingness to be open, for his acceptance, and for his unconditional love, while at the same time learning to acknowledge and understand that her black boyfriend's needs always come first. Here Maggie had put a checkmark.
It gave the wife techniques to help hubby to redirect his sexual energy, and to make him eager to push you into your boyfriend's arms as his ticket to sexual satisfaction in this new relationship. To accomplish this, it said that although it might seem cruel at first, she would need to push him onto the sexual sideline. Finally, it explained that the goal is a husband who begs you to fuck her black lover, and receives his own gratification through you. Maggie added her own comment, saying "Yes, finally."
In another chapter, the one titled, "Black-bred, The Happiest Time." advised:
"One of the greatest gifts you can give your black lover is to bear his beautiful black babies. When you make the decision to let him impregnate you, you may find that every orgasm will be more intense than the last (we know, having done this a collective five times.) You may even want to make a ceremony out of the decision. We found that surrendering your birth control to you man while your hubby watches creates an incredible sexual high for everyone involved. One of the authors remembers actually squirting for the first time in her life.
In any case, this is a pretty big deal, and you should give it much thought. Once it's done, it's not easily undone, and it is a lifetime commitment that will mark you as a black man's woman for life. Which may be exactly the statement you want to make. Also, don't be surprised if your boyfriend starts putting on pressure to share you with his friends. It's a natural part of being bred by a black man, and you should (and WILL) enjoy it. Hugely. Repeatedly. Trust us."
At the head of this chapter, Maggie had written, "No way!", then scratched it out, then later in another pen color written, "Maybe."
I read through the night, and not getting a call from Maggie, fell asleep. A reader may well think that, having read the wive's 'playbook', I would now be so well-informed that I would be able to fight against what was happening. I would remind readers that just because you have watched the Dallas Cowboys doesn't mean you can compete with them. Other guys who have become cuckolds or are going through this now will confirm what I am saying.
Some things were suddenly becoming painfully clear to me. One of which was that Maggie and Sean were not strangers and that meeting them a few weeks ago was no accident. Another was that Maggie and Sean had been planning to transform the dynamics of our relationship, perhaps for more than the few weeks that I had assumed Sean had been in our life. Finally, there was the issue of Debbie and what I should do about her open invitation to become a bigger part of her life.
Against that was the fact that I am flat out in love with Maggie, and have always been enchanted by her, and would do anything not to lose her. More than anyone or anything else she is my reason for living. I hope those of you going forward with reading these entries from my journal to understand this simple fact.
(The End)
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