A Happy Black Couple

Hello, there. How are you doing? My name is Juliet Blake Antoine and I live in New Jersey with my husband Rodney Antoine. We are a couple of African-American professionals and part-time exhibitionists, and we are pretty damn proud of who and what we are. My Rodney is six feet six inches tall and weighs two hundred and sixty pounds. He's broad-shouldered, massively muscled and strong-looking. A more robust man can't be found anywhere. His skin is jet-black and he keeps his head shaved. He's a big and tall Black man. Also, a kind and gentle soul. That's what I love about him. He is like a big teddy bear sometimes.

As for myself, the label of giant also applies. I'm no dainty little dame either. I stand six feet tall, large and lovely. Thick and curvy where it counts. Voluptuous and sensual in way skinny chicks can never be. Just call me the Black Giantess. A large-breasted, thick-bodied, wide-hipped and big-bottomed chubby but funky Black female. That's me in a nutshell and I am damn proud of myself. Those fabulous looks of mine have been driving men wild for as long as I can remember. We have been married for twenty years but we're still very much a passionate couple. My husband once told me that I had a booty so fine, it looked like it could move by itself without needing the rest of my fine body for support. I smile every time I think of that. It's one of the nicest compliments anyone had paid me in ages.

Life with Rodney was alright. Like any couple, we have our ups and downs. In those two decades that we've spent together, we raised two sons, Luke and Junior, who are now in college. The first is playing college football while studying Criminal Justice, the other is studying Business Administration. Two fine young Black men we raised, my other half and I. We live in a nice house in the suburbs and we run our own businesses. Rodney, who worked as an accountant for many years finally realized his dream of opening up a small chain of barber shops. Black-owned and operated, of course. As for myself, I still work as a police officer in the city. I love my job, and after many years in the precinct, I achieved the rank of sergeant. I've seen many things on the job but I still like it. I still believe in people, even all I've seen. I still believe in love. I hope I always will.

Currently, we're having some fun together. Damn, these days we can't seem to run out of ideas. Our wonderful brats are gone and we have the house to ourselves. You know what this means. Just in case you don't, let me remind you. I don't know what's gotten into Rodney and me but lately, we've been doing it like a couple of high school students. I mean, we'd go to a restaurant together and he'd wink at me while I got up to go to the ladies room and next thing I knew, we'd be in a bathroom stall, romping like sex was going out of style. Other times, we had sex in the van or in movie theaters. Wherever the urge took us, and whenever. That's what passion is, after all. Embracing the spirit of the moment and letting it carry you wherever it will.

This time, I was cooking in the kitchen when Rodney snuck up behind me. He crept behind me and caught me in a bear hug. I laughed, a bit startled. Next thing I knew, he was kissing me. I liked surprises so I kissed him back. Slid my tongue down his throat and wrapped my arms around him. I unzipped his pants, freeing his already hard cock. Unbuttoning his flannel shirt, I stroked his thick black chest hairs, which were now streaked with gray. I looked into his eyes, and smiled. He grinned naughtily at me. My hands fondled his erect member. How I had missed him. These days, I craved him more than ever. I bent down and got on my knees. Then, I took him in my mouth.

I've had Rodney in my mouth many times before, but each time was like the first time, yet it wasn't. Over the years, I had gotten to know his body almost as well as I knew my own. I knew his likes and dislikes. With this knowledge in mind, I sucked on the head of his cock while stroking his testicles. He winced, and nodded. I continued, this time flicking my tongue over his cock head. I engulfed him in my mouth, feeling his hardness pulsating all around me. He thrust into my mouth, craving more of my special touch. That special touch which drove him wild. I took my sweet time and licked his cock like it was a lollypop. And what do you know, that brought him over the top. He came, and I drank his seed. Ah, this brings back memories.

Rodney Antoine, Haitian-American accountant extraordinaire is not just my husband. In many ways, he was my first. He was the first man I dated seriously. We met in college. He was the hard-working, practical, no-nonsense accounting major. A handsome Black stud with a deep intellect and keenly analytical mind. He was something back then, and he still is now. Took my breath away the first time I saw him. I was trying to get to my Introduction to Criminal Justice class. He was the kindly Black stud who helped me find it. He shook my hand and introduced himself, flashing a bright smile. I smiled back, and from that moment on I was hooked. A month later, we started dating. I still remember that time when I went down on him in a theater. That took him by surprise!

I could still surprise him, even today. I sucked him dry, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I looked up at him. He sighed, then pulled me up into his arms. He kissed me, without a doubt tasting himself on my lips. His firm hands grasped my breasts and he fondled them. Those titanic hands of his could be so gentle sometimes it hurt. They stroked my breasts and he bent down to suckle on me. His hands cupped my buttocks, then slipped between my legs. I gasped as I felt his finger enter me. His thick fingers probed my honey hole, rough and tender at the same time. I held his hand there, not wanting it to end. He twisted his fingers inside me, probing me in my sweet spot. It was agony but I didn't want it to end. When it did, I screamed his name, both because he had opened my floodgates of pleasure and because it was over.

I looked at Rodney, wondering what else he had in store for me. When he took the butter from the kitchen counter, I smiled. I knew exactly what he wanted. He turned me around, and his hands cupped my buttocks. I felt those strong hands of his spread my butt cheeks and apply the slick, cold butter against my tiny anus. He wanted to take me like this, right then and there. I dropped my shorts to the floor and took off my T-shirt. I never wore any underwear, so it was pretty convenient. Rodney spread my plump butt cheeks and pressed his hard cock against my back door. With a swift thrust, he buried his twelve-inch black cock up my asshole. It hurt a bit but in a good way. I love getting fucked in the ass. My fifty-inch black bubble butt has been driving my husband crazy for years.

Holding me by the hips, Rodney thrust his cock even deeper into my asshole. He began to fuck me hard and fast, just the way I liked it. It feels so wonderful to have his big cock up my ass again. I love that big cock of his. I've had in my mouth, my pussy and my asshole. Twelve inches of long and thick, uncircumcised Black cock. It feels wonderful no matter which part of your body it's penetrating. My asshole got used to his cock over the years and these days, I'm proud to say that I was one of the few women on this planet who could take twelve inches of hard dick up the ass without blinking. It just takes some getting used to, that's all. Rodney slammed his tool even deeper into me, filling up my back passage. It hurt so wonderfully. I loved every second of it. So much that I backed up, grinding my booty against his groin. I wanted to feel him deeper inside of me. I craved to have his cock deep down in places I didn't even want to think about most of the time.

The sweet torture Rodney put my bottom through was excruciating, yet I didn't want it to end. I felt a deliciously hot pain in my butt as he pounded into me. Even with our very own special lubricant, his cock felt huge in my ass. It was absolute agony. Thus our wicked game continued. When I tried to resist, he pounded into me, hard and fast like a conquering hero invading enemy territory. When I yielded to him, craving him, he withdrew. He pulled himself out, and I gasped in protest. Laughing, he inserted himself back into me. I pushed back, driving him deeper inside me. It hurt, yet I craved that sweet pain. I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want it to end. I screamed his name and begged him for more. Rodney continued to thrust into me until he couldn't take it anymore and erupted inside of me for the second time that day.

The two of us lay on the kitchen floor, unable to move. Rodney was still inside me. Amazingly, he was still hard. My Black man of steel. He reached with those strong arms of his and embraced me. I took his hand in mine and kissed it. Our bodies were still linked, joined as our souls would always be. Neither of us said anything for the longest time. This was a magical moment. After twenty years, it was even better than the first time. Our passion and our love for each other was still present. Like a single candle in a dark night. Both of us were certain that it always will be.