I wasn’t sure what I was doing there if I was quite honest. I was naked under the sheets while Trevor hovered around the bed in expectation. We were in a large hotel room in the middle of a sunny day, light streaming through the plate glass windows. Maybe a half an hour away from our house. I don’t remember fully how I managed to agree to this or what the exact rationale for it was.
Trevor and I had been going through a long extended bad patch. We hadn’t had sex in over six months and in truth the rot had set in a long time before that. It had petered to a halt over a longer period. I couldn’t remember the last time Trevor and I had mutually enjoyable sex such that I would want to repeat the experience in a timely manner. In the parlance we had a “Dead Bedroom” and perhaps Trevor, the frequent masturbator, considered himself the HLM, the “High Libido” partner which left me the LLF, the “Low Libido” partner.
I didn’t want to walk away from the relationship which still offered so much for both of us but it was true I never really felt in the mood for sex with him and I was aware how much strain that was causing the relationship. I did want to work with him but every time he gave me the impression that he had some sort of “right” to sex with me that I was “unfairly” denying him it just made my pussy shrivel up. Something about that neediness and entitlement that was never far from the surface just turned me right off.
The irony was, even though this was a slightly unusual, definitely unnerving situation filled with trepidation, I wasn’t actually turned off. Some part of me was aroused even for the first time in Trevor’s presence for quite a while. Probably because I wasn’t about to have sex with Trevor.
There was a knock on the door. He was here. My heart started pounding. How did it come to the stage that this was the solution, this was the Hail Mary pass we were going to use to try and rebuild our relationship, our physical connection. I guess going to therapy was one step on the way and probably the therapist seeing us separately as well allowed both of us to get certain things off our chest that neither of us felt comfortable saying directly to the other.
For my part, I couldn’t find the words to explain to Trevor, whom I loved, that for the longest time, my fondest sexual memories had been with sexual partners for whom I felt no greater bond than the physical act. One of my exes was a genuine waste of space. We had nothing to say to each other, nothing in common and pretty much didn’t like spending time together. But the sex was fantastic.
I’ve been lucky to have enjoyed a handful of absolutely amazing one night stands with men who were and remain strangers to me. Men whose names I literally have forgotten. Trevor was someone I really loved spending time with. We had common interests, we had so many great memories, we always got on with each other, so long as the subject wasn’t our sex life.
The sex life really was the one massive deficit in our relationship and had potential to poison all the good stuff that we had together. The bald fact was that after our honeymoon period had passed, after the New Relationship Energy had faded, Trevor did not satisfy me sexually. It wasn’t quite fair to say it in such stark terms as it takes two to tango and I played my part consciously and subconsciously but we did not enjoy mutually pleasurable sexual experiences together.
Whether it was premature ejaculation, erectile dysfunction, whether it was bad timing, not reading the room, or whether there was a sense some times that Trevor wasn’t quite there with me but maybe replaying some scenario in his head, it just didn’t work the way it should. For my part, my therapist made me realise that this was not just Trevor’s issue, that in the event that Trevor and I couldn’t make it work, it was likely I would be doomed to repeat this experience with a new partner because I probably preferred sex with someone I didn’t love. This was hard to hear but it did ring a bell and it was somewhat of a wakeup call for me. I had always put our problems down to Trevor but it sunk in that there was something deeper going on.
For Trevor’s part, I wasn’t quite so far off the mark about him replaying scenarios. I knew he liked porn and masturbation. I wasn’t so familiar with his extensive fantasies and the extent to which he would cope with the denial in our sex life by eroticising it. Just as Trevor was about to learn via the therapist, that I was more turned on by sex with strangers than with someone I loved, I was to learn that Trevor was drawn to fantasy scenarios where a dutiful wife would cheat on her husband, particularly if there was a racial aspect to it.
I guess the therapist made Trevor realise that underneath all this, with his voyeuristic take on this, was a desire to play the part of the husband in such a scenario. I can only imagine he had a similar reaction to me when the therapist made clear to me something I should have understood myself but had not fully acknowledged. And so, armed with these confessions and consent to reveal the outcome of these confessions Trevor and I had some headway in understanding our impasse and between our therapist, Trevor and I, somehow the suggestion was mooted that perhaps it might be fruitful for us to arrange an encounter that might satisfy both of our impulses and offer a way forward.
I don’t remember whose idea it was in the first place. I was certainly involved in the discussion but if anyone brought anything up, it was surely at the prompting of our therapist. Nonetheless once the die was cast, it was Trevor who took on the responsibility of arranging this encounter. I was still not quite comfortable acknowledging all of this and Trevor and I had only the briefest discussions absent the therapist. It was easier for me not to go into detail.
Trevor answered the door to a rather handsome Black man. He had smiling eyes and seemed to have the sort of personality that drew people to him. he shook Trevor’s hand and approached the bed to kiss my hand. He was courteous and diligent of Trevor’s feelings, addressing him first without making me feel like I was some spare part.
“So, we are ready?”
“I guess.”
“How would you like me to start?”
“Perhaps, you could join Lisa on the bed Marcus, and, Oh I don’t know. Maybe pretend I’m not here is the best?”
“No problem at all, is that ok with you Lisa?”
“Sure Marcus.”
Trevor sat down on an armchair that offered a decent view of the bed and I waited with bated breath as Marcus first lifted off his t-shirt to reveal an impressively sculpted set of abs, he slipped off his shoes, joggers and then his boxers and this absolutely massive cock sprung out. I actually smiled when I saw it, though I wasn’t sure quite how I would manage to take it.
He slid into bed beside me and his body was cool from the air-con. I liked it though. He was strong, muscled and his body felt good alongside mine. He grazed his hand on my abdomen, up to my breasts as he kissed my neck, then my lips. As we kissed, I got extremely turned on. It had been a long time since I was as ready to go as this. His hand roved down between my legs and he seemed happy with what he found. He whispered in my ear.
“I love your pussy, love to discover no hair down there. It feels so soft, smooth and wet.”
Just hearing his voice made me even wetter, I had taken the liberty of getting a really thorough waxing the day before and was delighted that my instincts had been justified. I don’t think Trevor had noticed yet. He would probably see soon enough. Marcus climbed over me and put a condom on, then rubbed his cock against my pussy lips. I was so ready for him and he could tell.
He was inside me, ever so slowly but it felt incredible. I moaned in pleasure as he inched into me. Whenever Trevor and I made love, the foreplay was interminable and, if I’m honest, boring and counterproductive. Marcus was pretty much fucking me straight away which is the way it should be. Something stirred as Marcus began to slowly fuck me. Trevor stood by the bed.
“Maybe we should, I don’t know, take a break, take it slow.”
“Should I stop, should I pull out?”
I held Marcus close to me
“Don’t fucking pull out, ok?”
“Sure thing.”
Over Marcus’s shoulder, I looked directly at my husband.
“Trevor, this was your thing, it’s happening now. It’s ok. Just sit back down, jerk off and enjoy it, ok?”
“But”
“But nothing, come on, let’s do this, ok?”
“Ok”
Trevor was a little sheepish but he did as I asked and I think once his cock was out maybe it made it better for him. I completely tuned him out though. Marcus was in me and it felt amazing but I just wanted something else. I reached down and held his thick cock which had not been all the way inside me yet. I pulled it out and he had a slightly puzzled look on his face.
“It’s ok, just a minute”
I rolled the condom off his cock and threw it away to Trevor’s mild alarm and then guided Marcus’s cock as he slid right back into me. I just moaned.
“Oh yeah, Marcus, that feels so good”
And it did. Finally, a real cock inside me. Flesh touching mine. It was heavenly. He worked his way up and up and I tilted my pelvis, willing him into me. I couldn’t believe how much I could take, he touched places no man had reached before. He plunged all the way inside me and I gripped him with my pussy, I was kissing his lower abdomen with my clit. He held me firm, tight, I couldn’t escape and just fucked me with abandon. The bed was squeaking, the headboard banging but this was it, this was what I’ve longed for all those years.
Finally someone was actually fucking me. He lifted me up and flipped me round like a rag doll. He looped my hair in his fist and pounded me from behind like a bitch in heat. He made me quiver in pleasure and knocked an orgasm out of me almost as soon as we started fucking doggie style. I don’t remember how long it had been since I had an orgasm from being fucked. The best sort there is.
My cheeks were flushed and I was panting as I came down from my orgasm and he just relentlessly fucked me regardless. I looked up and realised I was facing Trevor, his face agog, precum dripping from his cock. I smiled at him and motioned my head as if to say, go ahead, finish yourself off.
Marcus kept fucking me and I locked eye contact with Trevor as he brought himself off. I was happy for him to jerk off, to associate his orgasm and pleasure with watching me being fucked. I didn’t want him coming to bed for sloppy seconds. I don’t know why not but it became very clear to me in that instant. Marcus was fucking with more intent and I turned my head back to him.
“Can you come in my mouth?”
Trevor was shocked, no doubt, but I just had an instinct, and in that moment I wanted to taste Marcus’s cum. He flipped me around again so that I kneeled in front of him. His body was worthy of worship but especially his glistening cock, slick with my juices. I took him deep down my throat and it was enough, he pulsed and pulsed, shooting rope after rope of thick semen down my throat.
I swallowed it all greedily and savoured the sexy, salty taste. I didn’t take his cock out until I had cleaned him dry of that load. We collapsed on the bed side by side and cuddled, all sweaty and post-coitally buzzing. Trevor seemed a little shell shocked but he also exuded a pleasant post-orgasmic haze. I just idly played with Marcus’s cock as we took a moment to recharge.
“Wow!”
“Right?”
“Lisa, that was wonderful. I hope that we will do this again and often.”
Trevor was about to interject but I cut him off
“I would like that very much Marcus.”
Marcus got dressed and left and Trevor and I looked at each other for a moment.
“Ok?”
“Definitely. You ok?
“Definitely”
And that was enough conversation for me at that moment. I had a clearer idea of what I wanted and where I thought things could go. I showered, dressed and we drove home and had a lovely evening. I was pleased that we were able to cuddle in bed without Trevor trying anything. I had enjoyed a truly lovely sexual encounter with Marcus and didn’t want to return to the bad sex I had had with Trevor. the fact that he seemed content gave me hope.
Perhaps jerking off while watching me was sufficient for him. I certainly hoped so. I had had a taste of real sex and I wanted more and more. I knew then that I didn’t want to have sex with Trevor again and I felt good about the prospect of him going along with that.
Marcus texted me the next day and we began an occasional intermittent and flirtatious conversation over the following days. He told me how much he liked fucking me and I texted him pictures of my pussy. He made me go commando at work and send him proof. He invited me to call to his place on the way home from work and without hesitation I agreed. I texted Trevor, told him I was going to be late home as I was dropping by Marcus’s place on the way. I think I fell in love with Trevor all over again when he simply answered with a thumbs up emoji, “have fun” and a kiss emoji.
Marcus undressed me the minute I came through the door and by the next minute I was on my knees sucking his massive cock. He fucked me in his kitchen, fed me first his load, then cooked up some pasta for me, insisting I stay nude even though he got dressed, fed me the pasta and one glass of wine and then we netflix-and-chilled and he fucked me again while some European crime drama played in the background. I took his second load as dessert and had him text a photo of his cum in my mouth to Trevor to let him know I was on my way home shortly. I arrived home to Trevor who had huge smile on his face, we kissed, shared a glass of wine and chatted about our day.
Marcus wasn’t the jealous type and with my consent, shared my details and nudes with a couple of friends. Pretty soon I had a stable of four guys I could call on for booty calls. I set up a little whatsapp group for them to arrange any encounters. Everything changed for me. Trevor and I were getting on better and better. We weren’t yet comfortable enough for deep conversations but through our therapist, I learned that he considered himself to be living the dream, that the idea of his wife having regular sex with her Black lovers was like something out of his wildest fantasies.
I wasn’t yet ready to say it directly to him but was happy to let our therapist know that it was hugely important to me that Trevor and I didn’t have sex. I realised that I only wanted sex with other guys. I realised that it was also a turn on to me that they were all black. It turned out that this sentiment was something Trevor shared. He was turned on by the denial and was eroticising being “pussy free”.
Over the next few months life was amazing. I had gone from having no sex for six months, but in reality very little sex over the previous years, to having fantastic, fulfilling satisfying sessions several times a week. It seems that I was not the “LLF”, “Low Libido” partner at all. My actual libido was sky high, for my lovers anyway. I was only low libido for my husband.
And Trevor and I were getting closer to being comfortable communicating directly about all of this to the stage that I worked out the date of the last time we had had sex and to mark the one year anniversary I baked a cake for him and emblazoned on it the words “Pussy Free” with a candle to mark one year. He was genuinely moved and I kissed him and said
“And here’s to many more years to come!”
“Let’s drink to that.”