Fantasy Out Of Control Ch. 07

"We'll give her a few minutes," Randy said. "And I'll go easy. We don't want to ruin the merchandise."

He asked me what I thought of her being a Black Cock Whore instead of being Black Owned.

"Probably the better option," I said, truthfully. "I'm not too fond of her going to cheap motels though."

"Yes, that's kind of the weak link," he agreed. "But too many Black guys going through your front door will have people talking and next thing you know cops will show up thinking you're either selling dope or pussy. And expensive hotels are, well, expensive."

He was standing in the back of the living room looking out a back window.

"What's that parking lot over there through the trees," he asked. "Is there another street over there? I don't remember there being one."

"Car pool parking lot," I said, absentmindedly. "There's a little lane into it and people park there cars there and get a ride to work with their buddy or a co-worker."

"Looks like a path or something through the trees right up to your back yard," he mused. "Maybe part of an walking trail or something?"

"No, I think the previous owner used it to get to the car pool parking lot to catch a ride to work," I said.

"Hmm, and you got a finished basement? A back door," he asked. "Seems like that could be the solution. Susan's clients could park there, walk through the trees, right up to your back door going into your finished basement."

"But it's not finished," I said. "We could never really afford to do it right so we never did it."

Randy got out his phone, made a call and set the wheels in motion to have our basement finished complete with a sitting area, kitchenette, bathroom with shower, hot tub, and a special area with a king size bed, padded fucking platforms, and an S&M wall.

It was all done and decided within five minutes with contractors set to show up in two days.

Randy finished his drink.

"I'll just go up and visit with Susan for an hour or so," he said. "I hear she's got a busy schedule. I'll fill William in on the basement upgrade."

He went upstairs, familiar where the fuck room was, and I could hear them fucking for the next 20 minutes, then silence. Then it started up again and went for another hour. In the end, he'd been in my wife's pussy, mouth, or ass for almost two hours.

I heard him shower eventually, and when he came downstairs he looked very satisfied.

"My god, what a whore," he said. "Unfuckingbelieveable."

I knew Susan would be wiped from the orgasms. She always was. I learned from the doctor later that during sex, the brain releases oxytocin which heightens arousal and excitement, but when it wears off, it can leave women feeling really tired.

"Your wife's a whore," he said. "And she's a whore because she's predisposed to sexual activity and powerful orgasms, and with the giant cocks of her Black sex partners she's being stimulated more and her orgasms are more intense. The hormone dump in her body is immense, but when it wears off, she'll crash. Kind of like a sugar high."

The next thing he said stunned me.

"A woman has more nerve endings in her clitoris than in the entire rest of her body," he explained. "And a woman has twice has many nerve endings in her clit than men have in their dicks. Men may want sex more often, but women can fuck continuously and orgasm numerous times in a row. On the entire planet they are the ultimate fucking machines."

Over the next few weeks what she was doing, fucking for money, made her feel more guilty than she'd ever felt. She was enjoying it so much and I sometimes heard her exclaim in orgasm that she'd never had such a great cock, or had been fucked so well, or she never know fucking Black men could be so much fun.

I heard her after one hours-long fuck session with a customer.

"I never had orgasms like that," she said after the man had made her scream for two hours and came in her several times. "If I'd known sooner. Wow! It's like I'm making up for lost time."

She sometimes couldn't meet my eyes. Sometimes I caught her crying and she'd tell me how ashamed she was about being a Black cock whore even while the cum from the big Black balls of a total stranger was still sticky up against her cervix, or draining out between her pussy lips, or a few gobs on her chin where she failed to swallow an entire load.

But that guilt and shame never stopped her from jotting down appointments, places, and times. Or opening our front door to Black men she'd never met before while I listened to them fucking and sucking for two or three hours from a spare bedroom.

"It's the pure adrenalin rush of knowing a complete stranger is going to fuck me and anything could happen that is the thrill, then my body just kicks into gear and nothing else matters," she said at some point during a conversation. "And the taboo of Black cock just heightens it all."

Between William and Randy, plans were moving fast for my wife. She always had the option of stopping any step along the way, but as she later said, "It never really occurred to me to stop. I was on a rollercoaster ride."

How would it end? She never even thought about it. But I knew she couldn't keep up the pace for ever. In the meantime, my wife was making a name for herself and interest in her body and its abilities was heightening.

The next day she was back at the Star Light Motel. I didn't know it at the time but things were about to intensify even more.

END CHAPTER