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My name is Wendy, and this is the story of how I stepped out on my marriage, and fell hard for a black man. Let me start by first giving some background about myself. I am a 40 year old mother and wife. Currently I am still married, going on 19 years, to a wonderful husband who is unaware of my promiscuity. My daughter is 18 years old, and a senior in high school, which upon reflection may be the reason I got into my current situation.

I was thinking about how sad it will be to see my daughter go off to college and become a full fledged adult, and that caused me to begin thinking about my young adult life before having a family. I began thinking about the things I use to do, and the things I always wanted to do but never got the chance too. When I was younger, and heck even now until recently, I have always been a little hesitant to seek out adventure. It is because of this personality trait, that as I reflected on my past, I started to wonder if I had missed out; if I had really had a good time when I had the chance.

This thought processes fogged my head for days and days. I had no idea how to shake it, or to get over the idea that I missed out on youthful experiences. I wanted to go back and push myself to try new things, and meet different people. However, being realistic, I knew that was not possible. I was a housewife, and stay at home mom; there was nothing I could see that would allow me to change that. Unexpectedly though, the universe seemed to step in and help me reshape my life.

It happened during an impromptu visiting of my bank. I had misplaced my debit card, and was looking to get a new one. After waiting for a banker to assist me, I shook hands with the man that would change my life forever. His name was Jerome, and I immediately came to the conclusion that he is the most gorgeous black man I had ever seen. He is tall and muscular, has a shaved bald head, and a smile that can light up a room while at the same time melt the heart of any woman.

As he assisted me with my problem, I was constantly flustered being around him. I have no way of explaining it, but he just seemed to exude an aura of power and control. I felt very defenseless around him, and almost in a weird way servile to him. I kept apologizing to him for the fact that I was forgetful enough to misplace my debit, and he just assured me that it wasn't an issue and that he would take care of me. The way he said he would take care of me hinted at something deeper than just with my card, but also all of me.

I'm sure that to anyone looking on from the outside it would have just been a simple interaction between a customer and a bank representative, but to me it was an electric moment. However, Jerome was the perfect gentleman, and dutiful worker. He took care of my issue, and handed me a replacement card after just a few minutes from when he first shook my hand. It felt silly being so impacted by such a short meeting, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just a simple banking transaction.

The weight of the encounter stayed with me, and I kept trying to process why I was reading so into a brief encounter. It wasn't until I stopped off a local coffee shop to get a latte that I realized I was wrong about Jerome and his signals. As I pulled my new debit card out to pay for my drink, I noticed that it had something stuck to the back side of it. What I found was a small sticky note with a phone number and the message, "Call Me" written on it. Instantly I knew it was from Jerome; he was the only other person to have touched the card. My stomach flipped with excitement, and then fluttered with anxiety as to what to do with the number.

I wasn't usually the type of woman that got flirted with or hit on so openly. Standing at five feet tall, and having a slightly curvy body, most often I am looked past by men. I have what many men in my past have called a cute look. My hair, auburn brown, is about chin length and slightly wavy. My breasts are an average size, 32B, and my curves are flattering; especially my butt. Basically, I'm your typical short, cute, mom. Not the type that men come flocking too, so in a way, Jerome giving me his number was very much so a pleasant boost to my self confidence. However, it also made me feel guilty, as I was married.

I love my husband, and he loves me. He works weekdays and the occasional weekend, but is very attentive and caring. Of course, the spark of our marriage has died down over the years, but we do still try and please one another. I would never have thought of cheating on him, but with Jerome's number in my hand, the idea to cut loose and experience something new popped into my head. The fog of regret lifted, and I didn't want the opportunity to seek whatever adventure his number had for me slip away. I went back and forth about whether to call him or not as I drove home, but once I stepped inside my house and was in my comfortable, predictable life, I made the decision to throw caution to the wind and see what would happen if I called.

He answered after the first ring, and I almost hung up. But after he said hello for the second time, I timidly answered his hello and spoke to him. I indicated that I was the woman from earlier that he had helped with the debit car and had given his number to. He chuckled and said he knew who I was and was happy that I called. I asked why he had given me his number, and he just stated that I seemed to be lost and thought I might enjoy getting to know him. I almost sensed that he read me and could tell I was looking for adventure. Since I was, I decided to not back off, but instead continue moving forward down this unknown path.

I nervously asked, "I think I would enjoy getting to know you more. When can we get together to talk?"

"Well, I'm off from the bank tomorrow, so how does getting lunch sound," he replied.

I took a moment to think before responding, "Uhhh, yeah that would be good. Where should we meet at?"

"I know of a place that is great. You will love it. I'll text you the address and we can meet at let's say 10," was his reply.

My response was a little unsure, "Okay. Yeah that will work for me. Should I dress any particular way? Is it a nice place or casual?"

He answered confidently, "Oh it is just casual. Wear a simple dress and you will be fine."

"Okay, I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow then," I answered back.

"Cool, see you then. Bye," he finished.

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and was in disbelief with myself that I just set up a lunch date with a man I don't even know. Never would I have ever thought that I would have done something like that. However, as I stood in my kitchen replaying the conversation, and going over the plan to meet, I could feel that I was becoming aroused. My body warmed and began to tingle with giddy excitement. The rest of the night I was a cheerful little housewife. I prepared dinner, and did all my other tasks around the house with a joyous spring in my step. I just couldn't stop thinking about the lunch date.

My husband and daughter seemed unaware of my gleeful spirit once they both got home, and after dinner they both retreated to their own spaces. My daughter to her room for the rest of the night, and my husband to ours to shower. I cleaned up, and then checked in with my husband who was just getting out of the shower. He told me that he felt really tired, and was thinking of calling it an early night. I told him I wanted to stay up to watch some of my shows, but that it was fine by me if he wanted to go to bed. He kissed me, and then finished getting dressed before getting settled into bed. I washed up in the restroom before heading back into the living room to watch my shows.

As I sat on the couch alone, watching the t.v., my mind began to wander. I kept thinking about Jerome, and how handsome he was. I still couldn't believe I had set up a secret lunch date with him; someone I barely knew. The more I thought about it though, the more I couldn't wait to meet with him. He was such a handsome man, and looked to keep himself in good shape. I started to fantasize about what his body looked like, and how it would feel to touch him. Those visions quickly progressed into a curiosity of what his naked body looked like, and how well he may be endowed. Once those thoughts were in my head, I had to do something about them, so I reached for my phone and began to search for pictures of naked black men, pictures of naked black cock, pictures of big black cock, and finally pictures of black cock white women.

What I saw and viewed was breathtaking, and extremely erotic. I never looked at such images before, but at that moment I couldn't pull myself away from them. I wanted more; I needed more. Soon my hand snaked into my panties, and I was then playing with myself as I looked at countless images of thick black cocks being used on white women. I began to imagine myself as them, and the black cocks in the pictures belonging to Jerome. Once that stream of thought entered into my head it was too much, and I immediately erupted in a powerful orgasm. I shocked and panted like a possessed woman on the couch until I finally came down from the euphoric high.

Regaining my composure, I looked around in an almost frightened state to make sure neither my husband nor my daughter had walked in on me. When I was satisfied that I was still alone, I began to bask in the afterglow of what had just occurred. I had just actively searched and then masturbated to the images of black men fucking white women. Not only that, but I envisioned myself in the place of the women in the pictures, and that it was a man I briefly met once who was giving me his black cock. If I wasn't already excited about the lunch, I was after that couch time adventure. With a big smile on my face, I washed up at the kitchen sink before heading to bed to sleep. My dreams were filled with images of black cock that night.

The next morning I had breakfast with my family and then saw both my husband and daughter off as they went to work and school respectfully. I then cleaned up the dirty plates and table left from breakfast while I failingly tried to keep from looking at the clock every ten seconds. I was like an eager girl on prom night waiting for her date to come and pick her up, but in my case I was waiting to go see a handsome black man for lunch.

Once everything was cleaned, it was about time for me to began getting ready so I went off to shower and began making sure I was ready for the lunch. In the shower I made sure to shave any stray hairs on my body, and to tidy up my neat landing strip above my sex. I applied good smelling lotion all over my naked skin, and then made sure to do my makeup; nothing heavy or crazy, just presentable. I dried my hair and let it fall in its natural wavy curls, as I like the way it made me look sporty. From my closet I pulled out a simple blue sundress that had a pretty floral pattern on it, and I slid it on over my head. I paired the dress with a basic pair of leather sandals, and then grabbed my purse and phone before heading out to my car. It wasn't until I sat down on my leather driver seat that I realized I had completely forgotten about underwear. In my buzz to get ready, I spaced putting on a bra or panties. I thought about running back inside to correct my error, but then stopped myself as I figured that maybe it was just my subconscious mind telling me to be adventurous. To be honest, it felt liberating to go without underwear. Never before would I have even thought about leaving the house without at least panties, but doing so at that moment it felt right.

I got the address for the restaurant punched into my navigation, and then headed on my way to meet Jerome. It was a restaurant I had not heard of before, and was located on the far side of town. I was thankful for that, as it meant less of a chance for someone I knew seeing me out with another man. After a short drive I arrived, and parked. The restaurant was a sports bar like place and didn't seem to be too busy. It was just ten o'clock, so when I went inside I looked to see if Jerome was already there. When I scanned the room, I was pleasantly surprised to see that he was. He was seated at a both in the corner, and saw me once I walked in. He waved me over, and greeted me with a big hug, as if we were long time friends. Disengaging from the hug, he smiled at me his beaming smile, and showed me to my seat across from him.

"I hope you don't mind, but I ordered you a drink already. It's a margarita; this place makes a mean one," he said as I slid into my seat.

A little caught off guard, I meekly replied, "Oh, thanks. Yeah, it looks good."

He laughed, and then started small talk as we waited for our waiter to bring menus. Mostly we talked about get to know you stuff; where are you from, what do you do for a living, and how big is your dick. Okay, maybe I didn't ask him that, but it certainly was on my mind the entire time. I can say though, that he was able to make me feel comfortable throughout the early conversation, and by the time the waiter arrived he may have even thought we were long time friends the way we were conversated.

It was after the waiter left with our menus that our talk began to turn more onto the naughty path. Slowly at first, as these things often go I assume, but very deliberately. Jerome asked me about my marriage, and whether I was happy or not. I indicated that I was, but that I was feeling a bit bored with my life. He asked me to explain, and I went into the whole thing with my daughter going away fueling thoughts in my head about how I never sought adventure when I was younger. He smiled at this, and then asked if I was seeking adventure now. I replied that I wanted too, but I just couldn't figure out how. At that moment, the waiter came back and checked in on us, and Jerome indicated we would both like another margarita.

When I looked at him quizzically he replied, "Sometimes alcohol can help free a person to become more adventurous."

At which I responded half in jest, "Is that right? Are you sure you aren't just trying to get me drunk?"

"Oh no, merely trying to help you experience life and its many options," he confidently answered.

I said nothing, but instead took a drink from my still half full first margarita. I had a sense that my afternoon was indeed heading towards that of the visions from my fantasy the night before, and I wasn't quite sure if I would be able to go along with it or not. If I was going to go with the flow, I knew Jerome was right; liquor would be a great liberator of my mind.

"So am I right to assume that coming out with me to lunch, was a step for you towards being adventurous," he asked.

I shyly nodded my head to indicate that he was correct in his assumption.

He kept up the investigative questioning by asking, "Is it because I'm a stranger? Or is it because I'm black? Or is it because you are married that you feel you are being adventurous?"

Glancing away from him I answered, "All of it."

Just then our drinks and our food arrived, and the questioning on the matter stopped momentarily. We allowed the waiter and the food runner to place our food and drinks before us, and then we began to eat. It was quiet between us as we ate, until finally Jerome broke the ice.

"I may be way off here, but I believe that you desperately want to have an experience to remember with me. One you would never tell your husband, or friends about. An experience so adventurous that it would make up for all the cautiousness of your youth and past. If this isn't want you want let me know now, or we can finish our meal and then go and have that experience."

Honestly, I was a little caught off guard by the forwardness of his statement, and I took a moment to sit quietly as I let it sink in. I knew deep down that what he had said was true, but the battle of whether or not I could actually go through with something like that raged in my head. Looking down to my lap to try and collect myself I remembered that I was without panties, and that was what triggered my decision. With all of the confidence I could muster, I looked back up at him and gave my answer.

"Yes, I want to have an experience of a lifetime with you. I want to give myself over to you and let the unknown adventure of life guide me."

A grin appeared on his face as he responded to my declaration, "Well then, I think we should finish up here, and not waste anytime getting you what you desire."

Jerome then signaled to the waiter that he wanted the check, and I tipped my new margarita back to add a little more liquid encouragement. We paid and then walked out of the restaurant with Jerome leading the way while holding my hand. Outside, he asked me which car was mine before walking us over to it. He pulled me into him and gave me a deep and passionate kiss, of which I reciprocated after a moment of shock. Breaking the kiss, he asked for my keys, and indicated that he would drive us over to his place. Like a bubbly little schoolgirl, I handed over my keys and then hurried around to get in on the other side of the car.

He started the car, but before he pulled out of the parking lot, her leaned over and pulled me in for another kiss; this time letting his hand wander down and grip a hold of my butt through the dress. He broke off the kiss again, much to my dismay, and then pulled out of the parking lot. At the first light we had to stop at, he turned and asked me a very forward question.

"What kind of panties to you have on?"

I blushed at the question, not only from the forwardness of it, but also from the fact that I knew I wasn't wearing any. Looking back at him, I answered honestly, "I don't have any on."

Another grin appeared on his face before he responded, "So the shy wife and mother, has a naughty secret. I like it, but I want you to prove it. Show me."

I blushed again, but rather than try and back away from the request, I instead slowly lifted up the hem of my dress to reveal my neatly shaved sex. Jerome seemed to approve as he smiled upon the reveal, and even responded with a very erotic comment.

"That is one fine looking pussy babe. I can't wait to get to know it better."

My blush grew to cover my body, and I trembled with anticipation and arousal. With the whole exchange, I wasn't aware where we were, but when I looked up we had stopped outside of a house. Jerome indicated that we had arrived at his place, and then after getting out of the car, he led me inside. Once inside he planted another wonderful kiss on my lips, letting his tongue probe my mouth. Unlike the previous two kisses, this once continued for awhile, and Jerome began to explore my body with his hands. He gripped my ass, and my hips; pulling my tight into him. One hand move up to cup and fondle my breast through the fabric of my dress. I moaned in response, and it incited him to continue his manhandling.

Soon his hands were back at my ass, but know they were pulling up my dress to expose the flesh of my plump cheeks. He kneaded them like dough in a bakery before pulling the dress further up my body. It bunched over my hips, and got caught up under my breasts. He however didn't stop there, as he simply tugged the dress up and over them and then continued to pull it up to my face and neck. Our kiss was momentarily disengaged as he pulled the dress off my body and threw it to the floor to bunch up in the corner by the door. I was now naked before this god of a black man, as he then resumed his passionate lip attack on me. His hands continued to roam and explore my now nude body, while I moaned with every touch.

We continued like this for a few more moments until he pushed me away and asked me to help him with his pants. With shaky hands, I reached out and began to unfastened his belt and then the button to his jeans. I lowered the zipper and started to push them down his legs. As I worked, he had removed his shirt, and was working on getting his shoes off so he could step out of the jeans. He then stood before me in only a pair of briefs which contained the bulge of what looked to be a very massive dick. I nervously looked up at him, and he indicated for me to continue. A buzz ran through my body as I gripped the waistband of his underwear, and slowly began to peel them down his legs. The further they went, more of his magnificent black tool became exposed until it finally sprung loose from the confines of the tight briefs, and bobbed up and down in front of me. When it did, I gasped and instinctively let go of his underwear. He pushed them the rest of the way off and kicked them aside, while I stood and stared in shock.

"Go ahead, touch it," he said breaking me from my daze.

Hesitatingly I reached out and took ahold of the hulking unit before me. It felt heavy and warm in my hand, and because of its size I needed to use both hands to really be able to sufficiently manipulate it. I stroked his smooth shaft and just let the girth and weight of him fill my hands. After a bit more exploring with my hands, I felt him rest his hand on my shoulder, and began to press me down. My knees gave in naturally and I was now on my knees with his colossal cock looking at me back in the face. Without any further urging, I opened wide and began to take the sizable shaft into my mouth.

We hadn't even been inside for more than a few minutes and I was already naked, on my knees, and sucking his black cock; we had only made a few steps inside to boot. I felt so fiendishly slutty, but not in a bad way. The feeling of letting myself experience such a crazy moment so far out of my normal, predictable life invigorated me, and filled me with the passion to push myself further. I found myself devouring his manhood like all the pornstars I had watched the night before. Sloppily bobbing on his meaty pole, and not caring what it looked like; only caring that I was living in the moment, and was pleasing the black adonis in front of me. He let me continue my oral assault on him, while he began to massage my breast with one hand and grip onto my hair with the other. He also began to speak to me as I performed my naughty tasks.

"Oh yeah that's it. Just like that. Suck that dick babe."

As I got more into it, his comments became more vulgar and derogatory. I didn't mind, and in fact I loved hearing him speak to my in such a manner. His words spurred me on to push myself further and take on the outrageousness of the experience head on.

"Fuck yeah, take my black cock. Show me how much you love my big black cock. You barely know me and already you are taking my dick like a slut. Is that what you are babe? Are you a slut?"

Momentarily he pushed me off of his hefty stick to allow me to answer his question. I was in such a wild and nasty state. I lost my normal self, and was only concerned with the then and now, so I answered the only way I could.

"Yes, I am your slut," was my reply as I then pounced back onto his magic stick with my mouth. From that point, Jerome held nothing back as he spoke down to me while I continued my dutiful job.

"Just what I thought when I first met you; a slut willing to please black cock. I bet you couldn't stop picturing yourself sucking my big black cock, or letting me fuck you silly. You're like most married white women, just dying to be used by a thick black cock. Use your left hand to stroke me slut. I want to see your wedding ring while I watch you suck my cock."

Doing as I was told, I brought my left hand up to grip his shaft, and though I should have been embarrassed to be reminded of my marriage, the sight of my ringed finger gripping his black cock ignited even more ravenous passion from me. It reminded me of how simple and unadventurous my life was, and I was taking that moment to change things. Jerome salacious comments only added to the experience.

"Oh yeah, black cock is all you want now. Your white dicked husband can't compete. You are my slut, and you love my black cock now. You are hooked. Show me how much you love my cock slut; stuff in your face."

The degrading statements were all the urging I needed to try and push as much of his massive member into my throat as I could. His girth and length made it so I could only manage to embed half of it, but that didn't stop me from trying to get more while I continued to give the filthiest, and sloppiest blow job of my life. I was gagging, and drooling all over his tremendous trunk of a cock, and he seemed to love every moment of it just as much as I was.

"That's it slut, gag on my cock. I want you to choke on my big black dick, as you show me just how much you love it. You are my slut now, and I am going to make sure you get all the black cock you can handle."

He began to rock his hips to meet my bobbing face, and his grip on my hair became rougher. I sensed he may be close to finishing, so I doubled my efforts and let him began manipulating me more and more. The sounds that were coming from my mouth were that of a seedy porno, and if we had been filming our encounter I'm sure it would have looked like one too.

"Oh shit slut. I'm gonna cum soon. When I do, I am gonna mark you as my slut and shoot it all over you. Just what a slut like you loves, a face full of black cum."

The thought of letting him cum on my face was so erotic and naughty. I had never before let anyone, including my husband, do that, but the idea of Jerome, a black man, doing so was something I just couldn't pass up. This was my new adventurous life, and I wanted to be his. To be his married, white slut to use. After a few more pumps, he pulled his saliva streaked hunk of meat from my face and began to pump his fist along his shaft.

"Tell me what you want slut," he said as I knelt before him watching him stroke his length.

"Oh, I want you to cum on my baby. Cum on my face. Make me your slut, and shoot your cum all over me," was my desperate response.

"Ah shit, here it comes slut," he grunted out.

Spurting out from the bulbous tip of his cock was volley after volley of thick and heavy cum arching and landing on my waiting face. I had never known a man to spew out so much, but as I knelt there and received his gift I was happy for the volume he ejected onto me. I was proud to know that I caused him to erupt so much. When he finally began to stop, he bent the tip to my lips and had me lick off the last little dribble of cum. Streaks of his goo coated my face, and I felt as though my entire head was plastered with it. The warmth of his seed felt good against my pale skin, and we both just remained silent momentarily as we basked in the afterglow of the experience. It was Jerome who finally broke the silence, and though his tone was more subdued, he still spoke in a dominant manner.

"That was great. You really took to it, and I can tell you enjoyed it as well."

I smiled at his statement, and replied, "Yes, it was wonderful. I loved everything about it. I loved being your slut."

His smiled return as he responded, "Well you certainly are a good slut, and looking at you covered in my cum makes me wish I had time to use you some more. Unfortunately, I need to meet up with some people in a bit. I do however want to do this again."

Finding our time together was ending for the day I was a little dejected at the thought, but was happy to hear he did want to see me again. I replied to him to indicate that I felt the same way.

"Yeah, I probably should be getting home as well, I want you to know that I would love to do this again soon. Hell, if I could, I would do it over and over."

Jerome laughed a little before he spoke back, "I think I have unlocked quite the slut in you. Which makes me wonder; do you want to continue with this experience of being my slut? My married, white slut. I mean not just when we meet again, but from now and through our next get together."

Riding high from what I just experienced, I was intrigued to find out what he meant. I knew I didn't want to just go back to my boring, predictable life, and I knew I felt more alive than ever when I let myself go with him so I answered accordingly.

"Yes I would, but what do you have in mind?"

"Well for starters you need to clean that cum off your face before you go home, and I think what better way for a slut to do so, than with the the only piece of clothing she has with her," Jerome stated as he reached down and retrieved my dress.

He wanted me to wipe my face clean of his cum with my own dress. It was the only thing I had to wear when I was to leave his house, and if I did as he suggested it would be smeared with cum. The idea of walking out into the public with cum all over my dress was so slutty. The old Wendy would have never thought about doing something like that, but now I was the new Wendy; the married, white slut of a handsome black man, and the new Wendy did not hesitate. I grabbed my dress from his hands, and brought it immediately to my face. I dragged it across my face in search of every speck of cum; I wanted my dress to be a mess with his cum just as my face was. If I wasn't to wear his cum home on my face, I was happy to wear it home on my dress. Jerome watched me perform as a slut for him, and as I finished my clean up he spoke.

"I think we are going to have a lot of fun you and me. I've got to get cleaned up myself, so go ahead and get dressed. I'm sorry to end this so abruptly, but text me later tonight so we can set up our next meeting. Oh, and when you do, make sure to send a nice nude pic as well that way I can save it as your contact photo in my phone. Talk to you later my slut."