The Night My Wife Fulfilled Her Forbidden Fantasy

Natalia is a woman who knows what she wants. She always has been. From the first months of our marriage, she made it clear to me that in bed there was no room for roundabout ways: she likes toys, lace lingerie, wearing stockings on a Wednesday for no special reason. She likes it when I eat her pussy as if we had all the time in the world, when I kiss her slowly and then not so slowly, when I shove my cock all the way in and talk dirty in her ear while I fuck her. I travel for work often, whole weeks away from home, and she takes care of herself without any hang-ups: she has an entire drawer full of vibrators, dildos of every size, and a harness she bought without asking my opinion.

We had been married ten years when it happened.

***

I came back from a nine-day trip and found her different. Not different in a worrying way, but different in the way a person is when they’ve been holding something in for too long. Anxious. Restless. She told me she had ovulated while I was gone, that her toys had fallen short, that she needed to get out of the house. Without the kids, without her phone, without anything to do.

—A motel —she said—. Tonight.

I didn’t need persuading. We left the kids informed, I stopped at a shop on the way, bought beers and a bottle of reposado tequila that she knows loosens her shoulders in the best way. We got to the motel around ten.

I went to take a shower while she turned on the TV. When I came out, wrapped in a towel, she was sitting on the edge of the bed with her eyes fixed on the screen. One of those channels they put on in motels: a wide-hipped, light-skinned woman, and a huge Black man who had her bent over the bed, fucking her from behind with a dark, thick cock that went in and out, shining with her juices. Moans filled the room, mixed with the wet sound of flesh slamming against flesh.

Natalia had her dress hitched up above her knees and her hand resting between her thighs. Beneath the lace of her panties her fingers were moving, slow, calculated, and a dark stain was spreading through the fabric. She didn’t realize I was out of the bathroom until I sat down beside her and handed her a beer.

—Are you enjoying it? —I asked.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. There was something in that look, a mix of excitement and shame, that told me we were entering new territory.

—Yes —she said quietly.

—What do you like most?

It took her a while to answer. She didn’t take her eyes off the screen.

—How big he is. How she takes all of it.

I slid my hand between her legs over the lace and felt that her panties were soaked. I moved them aside with two fingers and rubbed her clit. She was so wet my fingers went in on their own, two, then three, with a wet sound that drew a moan from her. I unbuttoned her dress, yanked off her bra, and ran my tongue over her hard nipples, first one, then the other, biting just a little. At no point did she look away from the screen. That turned me on more than I would have imagined. I kept fingering her, curling my fingers upward, and she started rolling her hips against my hand without taking her eyes off how the Black man was splitting the other woman’s cunt open.

—Would you want to be her? —I asked in her ear—. Would you want that Black cock inside you? To have your pussy filled like that, like her?

She turned to look at me. She hesitated. Swallowed.

—Yes —she said.

I untied my towel, took her hand, and led it to my cock. She grabbed me, starting to stroke me slowly while I kept playing with her pussy. Then she slid down to the floor without being asked, knelt between my legs, and took me into her mouth. She sucked me slowly, her tongue circling the tip, swallowing saliva, taking me down to the base and pulling me out with strings of spit hanging from her lips. With one hand she stroked my balls, with the other she kept touching herself. Between sucks, her eyes kept drifting back to the screen.

I lifted her from the floor, mounted her from behind with her facing the television, and drove my cock into her with a thrust. She let out a long moan. We stayed like that for a good while: her moving on top of me, riding me, eyes fixed on the screen, reacting more to what she saw than to my own movements. I had her tits in my hands, squeezing them, pinching her nipples. I whispered in her ear: I told her to imagine it was her on the screen, that she was the one with that Black cock splitting her open. She responded by moving faster, clenching her pussy on every downstroke, gasping louder and louder. When I was about to finish, I pulled her down, put her on all fours on the bed, and drove into her in one shot. I fucked her hard, gripping her hips, watching my cock go in and out of her soaked cunt, and I came inside her with a grunt, pulling her against me, with the television sound in the background and the actress’s moans filling the room.

Afterward, while she kept watching the film with a calm that wasn’t sleepiness but something else, with my cum running down her thighs, I asked her:

—What would you do if that man were here?

—Do you really want to know?

—Really.

—I’d suck his dick from beginning to end —she said without taking her eyes off the screen—. I’d suck his cock until it got fully hard, and then I’d take it until I couldn’t take any more. Until he filled my pussy with come.

I don’t know exactly what I felt at that moment. Excitement, yes. Also something like jealousy, but of a strange kind that instead of knotting my stomach, opened it up. The idea of seeing her like that, her mouth full of another cock, completely surrendered to something I couldn’t give her, turned me on in a way I hadn’t expected from myself.

***

Over the following days, Natalia didn’t mention anything. She acted normally, even with a certain distance, as if she were embarrassed to have said out loud what she said. I waited until we were alone at home, one weekday afternoon, to bring it up.

—That night at the motel —I began—. What you told me.

She didn’t answer.

—Did you mean it?

She took a while. Then she looked up.

—Yes. But I know you’d never go for it.

I stood up, went over, and kissed her. Long, calm. When I pulled back, I told her I would go for it. More than that: that I’d arrange it myself. That if we were going to do it, we’d do it right, with someone trustworthy, far from our city, on her terms and mine.

She looked at me as if she expected me to back out. I didn’t.

—Really? —she asked.

—Yes.

***

It took me two weeks to find the right person. I searched carefully, read references, asked questions. In the end I found someone who matched what Natalia had described that night: a man named Darius, based in Dallas, discreet, with experience in this kind of encounter. I spoke to him on the phone, explained the situation, and we agreed on conditions. He sent us photos. One in particular, in profile, naked, made it very clear why the references were what they were. Natalia looked at them in silence for almost a minute. Her face turned red.

—That’s fine —was all she said.

We set the date for a weekend almost a month later. I booked a decent hotel in Dallas, four hours from home by car. Two nights: Friday and Saturday.

On Friday night I didn’t let her touch herself. I asked her to suck my cock and then stay frustrated. She knelt between my legs and sucked me for a long twenty minutes, taking me down until tears filled her eyes, swallowing what I gave her without spilling a single drop. When she was done, I lifted her chin, ran my thumb over her shiny lips, and told her tonight it wasn’t her turn. She protested with half a smile but obeyed. We ate out, walked through downtown, went back to the hotel. She slept restlessly, changing position several times, crossing and uncrossing her thighs. So did I.

Saturday was a day of sustained waiting. She went to the hotel spa in the morning. Afterward she dragged me to a shopping center: a dress in one store, lingerie in another. We chose the set together: black lace, open cups, thigh-high stockings. She tried it on and came out of the fitting room with a different smile than usual. It was no longer nervousness. It was anticipation.

Around eight in the evening I poured her a glass of cognac with ice.

—Are you sure? —I asked.

—Don’t ask me that —she said—. If you ask me, I’m going to get really nervous. I’ve been sure since that night at the motel. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. I touch myself thinking about this.

***

At ten to nine, Darius texted me from the lobby.

I went down alone. I found him at the entrance to the bar: six-foot-something, dark suit, big hands. We ordered a drink and talked for twenty minutes. I reminded him of the conditions: condom at all times, anal sex only if she asked for it, I stayed in the room for the entire encounter. He nodded without impatience. He was someone who did this seriously.

When I got Natalia’s message, we went up to the elevator together.

—Is this your first time doing this? —he asked me.

—Yes.

—It’ll go fine —he said.

I knocked before opening with the key card. Natalia was standing in the middle of the room: the black dress buttoned to the neckline, heels on, hair loose. She looked better than I’d seen her in months. And visibly nervous, though she was trying to hide it.

The introductions were brief. I poured three drinks. We made small talk for ten minutes, enough for the nerves to cool down a little. Then Darius set his glass on the side table.

—I think it’s time —he said.

I went over to Natalia and took her hand. I placed her in front of him. Darius looked her over slowly.

—Turn around for me —he told me.

I turned her. He put his hands on her hips for a moment, then looked at me.

—Take her clothes off.

I unbuttoned her slowly. When the dress fell, the lace set, the stockings, the heels were revealed. Darius stood up and came closer. He started touching her calmly, without rushing: he traced her hips, lifted her chin slightly with one finger, ran his thumb over her lips, put it in her mouth. She sucked it without taking her eyes off him.

—Open your legs —he said.

She obeyed. He moved her panties aside, slid two fingers into her cunt and looked her in the eyes as he moved them in and out with an almost cruel slowness. He pulled them out shining, and brushed them across her lips.

—She’s been waiting for this a long time —he murmured, almost to himself—. This cunt’s been asking for it for a long time.

***

What followed I watched from the armchair in the corner. I stayed there, motionless, not intervening, with my cock hard under my pants.

Darius knelt her in front of him, and Natalia, without needing any more instructions, unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. When she took his cock out, a small sound escaped her: she had it in her hand, thick and dark, still only half hard, and she was already struggling to fit her fingers around it. She turned her head toward me for a moment with a smile that was not surprise but confirmation: it was exactly what she had imagined. She took it into her mouth carefully at first, just the tip, circling the head with her tongue. Then with more confidence: she swallowed it halfway, choked a little, breathed, and went back down. She gave him a long, attentive blowjob, with that dedication I’d rarely seen from her, while he rested an open palm on her head without pushing, letting her set the pace. Her mouth filled with saliva, which ran down her chin, wetting her tits. When she pulled off to breathe, he dragged his cock across her face, across her lips, and she closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue as if being fed.

Then he took her to the bed. He put her on all fours, ass up, and pressed his mouth to her pussy. He ran his whole tongue from bottom to top, paused on the clit, sucked, nibbled the lips just a little. He slipped two fingers in and kept eating her out, with a slowness that made her tremble all over. He spread her ass cheeks with his hands and licked the other hole too, and Natalia jerked and let out a high-pitched moan I had never heard from her before. In less than five minutes I heard her come against his mouth, clinging to the sheets with both hands, her ass trembling and her cunt pouring.

Darius stood up, rolled the condom on calmly in front of her so she could see it, and got behind her.

—Ready? —he asked.

—Yes. But slow.

He went slow. He put the tip at her entrance, rubbed it up and down, soaking it with her juices, and began to push in little by little. Natalia’s eyes rolled back when he finished going in. The first thrust was complete, all the way to the base, and she let out a stifled cry. Then he started moving, a slow rhythm at first, cadenced, and she made a sound I’d never heard from her before: something more visceral than anything in the previous ten years. My chest and stomach tightened at the same time, and I stayed there, not quite knowing what to do with what I felt. I unbuttoned my pants and grabbed my cock without taking my eyes off them.

They changed positions several times. First on all fours, with him holding her hips, driving harder and harder thrusts that shook her whole body. The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room, mixed with her moans, which sounded more and more animal. Then on her back, with him on top, pushing her knees to her chest, fucking her deep while he looked her in the face. She dug her nails into his back, found his mouth. Then he sat her on top, and Natalia moved up and down on him, her tits bouncing, eyes half-closed. In each position, Natalia turned her head toward me from time to time with an expression that was hard to decipher: the instinct to make sure I was still there, the pleasure of knowing I was watching, the two things mixed together. She came twice more, the second time with a long tremor that lasted almost a full minute, squeezing his cock with her cunt while she gasped with her mouth open.

When Darius reached the limit, he laid her on her back, spread her legs wide open, and drove in hard for the last strokes. He took her by the hips and finished with a deep, guttural sound, buried to the hilt, still, trembling too. Natalia trembled beneath him, her legs still open, breathing through her mouth.

There was a long silence.

Darius went to the bathroom. Natalia remained stretched out, breathing slowly, her cunt reddened and his finger marks on her hips. I got up from the armchair and sat beside her. I ran my hand through her hair.

—Good? —I asked.

—Very good —she said.

When Darius came back, Natalia sat up in bed and called him over. He came closer. She finished what she’d started earlier, now without the condom, with a calm devotion that was hard for me to watch without moving from my place. She took him all the way into her mouth, stroked his balls, and sucked him slowly until he gave her a warning grunt. She didn’t pull off. She swallowed everything, eyes closed, and licked the tip when he was empty. Then he whispered something in her ear that made her smile, got dressed, shook hands with both of us, and left.

***

The room fell silent.

I poured her another drink. She drank it slowly, wrapped in the sheet, with that calm that comes after something intense. When she put the glass down, she let the sheet fall, lay back with her legs open, and held out her hand to me. I saw her pussy, still swollen, still shiny. I climbed on top of her, drove it in with one shove, and felt that she was wider, hotter, more open than ever. I pushed in two, three times, and came inside almost immediately, my mouth pressed to her neck and her laughing softly, happy, pulling me against her.

We went home on Sunday. We stopped at a gas station halfway back and ate something at a plastic table, hardly speaking. Not because there was tension, but because there was nothing urgent to say. Everything had happened exactly as we’d agreed.

A few nights later, in bed, while I fucked her slowly and sucked her nipples, Natalia told me in my ear that she wanted to do it again. That next time without a condom. That she wanted to feel Darius’s come inside her.

I didn’t answer. No need to.