Wife Seduced By Black Novels & Stories

The warmth of her skin instantly startled the man. Iblis's mind went blank as his wife trailed her foot over his leg, then wedged it between his thighs. Before he could react, she snaked her arm around his waist and leaned over to litter kisses on his jaw. His rod jumped at her provocation. Iblis painfully closed his eyes, internally cursing his wife as a vixen, as he allowed her to seduce him. Her hand reached for the fly of his zipper. He reacted subconsciously and gripped her wrist to urge her. But she might have perceived his action as his attempt to stop her.

The headline screamed in bold, malicious font: "BLACKWOOD’S BILLIONAIRE BACHELOR NO MORE? Reclusive CEO Adrian Blackwood Spotted in Intimate Moment with Mystery Woman at Exclusive Xen." Below it was a photo an obviously long-lens shot of last night. It was me, seated on the velvet stool in Xen, my head tilted back slightly. Adrian was kneeling before me, one of my bare feet cradled in his hand, his head bowed as he fastened the strap of a heel. The angle made it look devastatingly tender, possessive. The next photo was of him carrying me out, bridal-style, my face turned into his chest. The caption read: “Has the city’s most exclusive catch finally been landed? Sources say the woman is a ‘co

I was pissed at my wife at the moment, and she would have no idea if I fucked this woman or not. It would be easy for me to lead a double life, to make Sofia regret treating me that way. Vivian came close to me, getting on her knees so she could suck my dick.

Memories of sweeter times flooded back, and the regret hit her all at once. So she said it. "Let's end this. I'll give you and your family a payout. Leave and go as far from here as you can." Thomas nearly lost his mind. "What? You can't just do that!" Renee didn't engage. "I can, because the person I love is my husband." She searched everywhere and finally tracked William down in a small town. The face she knew so well didn't show a flicker of anything when he saw her.

I felt so guilty thinking about Tom, my husband… but that guilt somehow made everything feel even hotter. I was a cheating wife getting her tits sucked by a big black man in my own house, and it turned me on so much I could barely stand. He kept going for a long time, switching between my tits, sucking one deep and slow, then the other fast and rough. He pulled them, squeezed them, licked them all over, covering my soft skin with his spit. My nipples were swollen and shiny when he finally pulled back. He looked down at me, breathing hard, his lips wet. “Have you ever sucked a black cock before?”

Tracy continued her investigation and visited some of the specific pages that Jim frequented just to see what exactly he was into. She saw videos of white women having sex with well-hung black men, but what was different about these videos from those she saw on Harry's computer was the presence of what appeared to be a husband in all of the scenes. In each one, she saw a white male either sitting off in the corner, or taking videos and pictures of his wife having sex with a black man while a stationary camera recorded the action. In some scenes, the husband was naked and jacking off, in others, he was fully clothed. In nearly all of the scenes she watched, she noticed the wife was pretty muc

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” “I know exactly what I’m saying.” He reached for me, his hand closing around my wrist. “Come here.” I tried to pull away. His grip tightened. “Jason, let go.” “Why?” He pulled me closer. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, thick and sour. “Why won’t you let me touch you? You’re my wife.” “You don’t want to touch me. Go and touch her instead." His eyes narrowed. “Her?” “Your freaking mistress.Get out of my room.”

My presence at the sip-and-see event sucked the life out of the party. My indifferent gaze fell on Krystal Markham. “Krystal, care to explain about today?” Krystal and I were a success story, the high school sweethearts who made it all the way to the altar. However, over the last two years, I felt her slipping further and further away. I brushed it off as the spark simply fading over time. Never in a million years did I expect her to cheat on me and have children with another man through surrogacy

I had no idea my wife, Bella Ross, had a best friend who was so incredibly sexy. After boarding the plane, the three of us occupied seats in a single row. From the corner of my eye, I stole a glance up Celeste's skirt, looking at the narrow space between her juicy thighs. I was truly so tempted to pry her legs apart and bury myself deep inside her. Nonetheless, my wife was just sitting right next to me. I would never have the guts to do so. As I compared Celeste's figure to my wife's, they were basically worlds apart. Bella was dressed in a tacky shirt, and her chest was so flat that they offered zero tactile stimulation when I caressed them.

"God... oh God, Bella..." A sob broke out of my chest. Tears spilled over my eyes, running hot down my cheeks. I covered my face with both hands, shaking violently. The pain in my ribs was nothing compared to the awful, ripping feeling in my heart. I had done that to her. My greed for my empire, my blind trust in my father—I had murdered my own child and left my wife to bleed alone on a prison floor. "I cried until I didn't have any tears left," Isabella said, her voice cold and flat as stone. "I laid in that filthy hospital bed, listening to the rain outside, and I realized that the man who promised to love me had handed me the knife that killed our baby."