Fantasies started with partner exchange, then just trios and now there's a thrill for trios with well-endowed black men, all my fantasies fulfilled today.
My husband has always been excited that I get ogled by other men, even if they're friends or family members, so he lets me wear low-cut blouses and semi-transparent clothes. When we go out to the street, some shopping mall or eatery, we play with gazes to see if there's a boy who might be looking at me more than usual and we start fantasizing. He pretends not to notice while I try to show off my chest by releasing a few buttons on my blouse, so men can get excited and keep looking back and forth, haha! I love it when they get nervous.
My story begins four years ago. My husband hires workers according to the demand for work, and I help him with accounting at the company and only go there some days. All the workers and employees treat me with great respect.
Four years ago my husband hired a young black man, 1.80 meters tall, with a strong physique, large and rough hands, having worked in construction, needed for heavy work, besides being an operator at the company, he did messenger services outside the city and transported goods on the truck, also occupied as personal driver when traveling long distances, just like me when I had to leave the city for a long trip since I don't like driving for too long.
The first thing that caught my attention about Marcos was his white and well-cared-for teeth, no earrings or tattoos, and he looked like a sensible and good worker, but as always in our heads (my husband's and mine) we ogled the idea of making trios or infidelities with newly met men.
However, the idea of conquering an employee from the The company was completely impossible for what that implied with the owner and manager of the company (my husband). However, that same idea that prohibited putting any employee in the game made the situation more morbid and bizarre: Always when I found myself with Marcos at the company, a shiver would pass through my body thinking about all those fantasies we had morboseed with my husband. Certain occasion I asked him to install the new satellite TV antenna at home and he effectively agreed not before asking permission from my husband, I don't know if it was my subconscious but that day (Wednesday) just didn't have the service employee come in, I swear only realized when I saw Marcos at my front door very early around 7 am as he had committed to, me still in pajamas and without breakfast receiving him and indicating where the equipment, stairs, and tools were. The kids being at school, my husband already outside and I alone at home with a big black man, rough hands, clean smile, and wide back, thousands of things went through my head and that shiver, that damn shivering shiver was in my body and now it was more intense and permanent, I thought why didn't I put on the transparent baby doll?, that same one I show and insinuate to my husband on our nights of mischief and the only one my husband has seen, uff, gave me a chill, I went up to take a bath and while I was bathing and sliding the bar of soap over my body I just thought how would it feel for big rough hands to run over white and delicate skin? One open hand from Marcos could cover all of my breast!!, then with the other hand I could cover the other breast, While I was drying off and applying my moisturizing cream to my body, I was still naked and sitting on the marital bed, hearing noises on the ceiling, Marcos was just above or on top of me? Technically he was on top of me only a thin layer of concrete separated us. I felt sexy, empowered, I felt impudent and shameless, a slut and that was what I was enjoying, so I took some delicate lace bras and without thinking twice I put on the tightest short I had, the one made of jeans, the torn one and a wide and short white blouse with buttons, no sleeves and to finish with the cherry on top: I put it on without a bra!!, What could be the worst that could happen? That he gets nervous and runs away? Or that he gets excited and takes me for his own in my own marital bed just as my husband has dreamed of passing some day.
I went down barefoot and with my hair still wet, to the patio where the stairs were and with the pretext of drying my hair in the sun I shook it loose and dried it with a towel, I knelt down giving Marcos my back, offering him a whole good show that he was probably enjoying from above.
From below, I kept looking at him and saw how his tight shirt clung more to his torso due to sweat, I insisted again that if he wanted something to eat that I would prepare something for myself, but he insisted:
-For now not, maybe water, but I'm going down.
-Why don't you let me bring it up? I said.
-Inconsciously I was already addressing him!!, searching for a sudden closer approach of more confidence?, uff, how tasty that he would also address me when we're alone, that he loses his shame, that he has a dominant role with me, that he treats me confidently or boldly or carelessly when we're alone.
Barefoot and with clumsy movements due to nerves, I carried up a large cold glass of water and handed it to him in his hands and with his two rough and coarse hands wrapped my hand and the glass and smoothly slid his hands and took the glass looking at me with a smile and said thank you and in two seconds he drank all the water with his head thrown back and while drinking, I saw the sweat on his neck and the movement of the water as it passed through his throat and how his jugular vein pulsed.
I was a little lower than his level of vision, had hurried to unbutton myself The first button of the blouse before going up, I without a bra and Marcos from above mine was surely enjoying himself while I received the glass and explained to me that there wasn't much left to finish. -I'll prepare you a very tasty breakfast I said (again addressing him informally). I went down quickly and put myself in charge of preparing his breakfast, quickly and nervously I took out the ingredients and pans to attend to that guy who was working for me from below, asking him what he wanted? Eggs? Coffee or chocolate? Juice? He just said: -Whatever you want is fine, Mrs. Ana. Then I said: -No, because even if you do anything, it might not be to your liking? Uff no, I couldn't believe it already I was in the role of serving him and I wanted him to be satisfied with what I prepared. Even so, I insisted, but how do you like eggs? Scrambled, fried?, Do you want a better omelette? I wanted to attend to him well, then I launched the first signal or flirt: “Nothing you prepare with your hands will turn out ugly, I'll eat it with all the pleasure in the world, but if you want to know, I like fried eggs, coffee, bread and orange juice. I was downstairs and couldn't believe he tuteated me and launched a flirt, I only remembered the little piece: “I'll eat it with all the pleasure”, did he refer to the eggs or to me?, haha. At this point I was more relaxed and with one hand on my forehead to block the sun and the other on my waist and a coquettish pause with the blouse halfway open, I said from below: -Are you sure you'll eat everything that's served to you? -ALL!, Marcos said without hesitation. We looked at each other for a few seconds like challenging each other to see who would look away first, but we laughed and I went smiling into the kitchen to prepare that guy's breakfast as he had ordered me. I was serving and organizing it on the table in the kitchen, so he wouldn't lack anything, bread, coffee, eggs, his breakfast just as I had asked him, I was receiving orders from the worker and very obediently fulfilling his demands, will be. Now in advance will it keep giving me orders?. Suddenly a loud noise!!! horrible, as Marcos was going down the stairs he slipped and fell on me! And with the lateral wall he scraped his arm, I ran out to see what had happened to him, luckily it was just a strong scrape on his left arm, only a little blood from the scrape, it was more the shock and noise. We laughed and went into the kitchen, already having his breakfast served like a king. While he washed his hands I hurried to bring alcohol and gauze to clean up the scrape, then I hurried to unbutton my blouse's second button and when he was about to sit down at the table I approached him from behind without asking permission and very naturally tried to lift his very tight shirt by the sweat stuck to his body, he didn't want to but I insisted and told him it was my responsibility and while he sat eating breakfast, I stood next to him, gently cleaning his wound. The wound was at the height of his shoulder and forearm so I took advantage of touching his biceps and shoulder, my bare thighs were at the height of his arm so I discreetly approached and felt his warm skin on my thighs, he didn't pick up his arm at any moment, instead he opened it to pull it out more from under the table and facilitate my work of touching his shoulder with my thighs and at the rhythm of an unconscious swing that took hold of me, I rubbed my bare thighs harder against his toned muscles. While I was cleaning his back with a wet towel, as wet as my desire in those moments, my 'friend' was lubricated and I found myself in a confused sensation between excitement and nerves. At that moment, despite being freshly bathed and perfumed, I felt dirty and the sluttiest of whores and that excited me. The contrast of a bright brown skin and sweat, rough hands, an uneducated worker, and knowing he had the doctor against her ropes in her own house, imagining they could have her subdued and make her theirs In her own marital bed. If Marcos had wanted to, he could have ripped off my loose white blouse with a single swipe of his hand. The only button left unbuttoned was one of the three buttons on the blouse, while I had already undone the other two - the first when I lifted the water glass and the second when I went for the alcohol. It was the most difficult to undo, with a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a cloth in the other, almost undressing myself right in front of him as I walked towards the kitchen. Only a small button separated my white breasts from his large, rough, and coarse hands, only a small and insignificant piece of plastic separating me from feeling his hands take possession of my breasts, to find out what it feels like for prohibited hands to subdue them, to manhandle them, to caress them, to crush them, to oppress them, to pinch them, to humiliate them. Marcos could have done whatever he wanted with me that morning, putting me in a position where I would do whatever he wanted and I wouldn't put up any resistance, none at all! This continues...
My husband has always been excited that I get ogled by other men, even if they're friends or family members, so he lets me wear low-cut blouses and semi-transparent clothes. When we go out to the street, some shopping mall or eatery, we play with gazes to see if there's a boy who might be looking at me more than usual and we start fantasizing. He pretends not to notice while I try to show off my chest by releasing a few buttons on my blouse, so men can get excited and keep looking back and forth, haha! I love it when they get nervous.
My story begins four years ago. My husband hires workers according to the demand for work, and I help him with accounting at the company and only go there some days. All the workers and employees treat me with great respect.
Four years ago my husband hired a young black man, 1.80 meters tall, with a strong physique, large and rough hands, having worked in construction, needed for heavy work, besides being an operator at the company, he did messenger services outside the city and transported goods on the truck, also occupied as personal driver when traveling long distances, just like me when I had to leave the city for a long trip since I don't like driving for too long.
The first thing that caught my attention about Marcos was his white and well-cared-for teeth, no earrings or tattoos, and he looked like a sensible and good worker, but as always in our heads (my husband's and mine) we ogled the idea of making trios or infidelities with newly met men.
However, the idea of conquering an employee from the The company was completely impossible for what that implied with the owner and manager of the company (my husband). However, that same idea that prohibited putting any employee in the game made the situation more morbid and bizarre: Always when I found myself with Marcos at the company, a shiver would pass through my body thinking about all those fantasies we had morboseed with my husband. Certain occasion I asked him to install the new satellite TV antenna at home and he effectively agreed not before asking permission from my husband, I don't know if it was my subconscious but that day (Wednesday) just didn't have the service employee come in, I swear only realized when I saw Marcos at my front door very early around 7 am as he had committed to, me still in pajamas and without breakfast receiving him and indicating where the equipment, stairs, and tools were. The kids being at school, my husband already outside and I alone at home with a big black man, rough hands, clean smile, and wide back, thousands of things went through my head and that shiver, that damn shivering shiver was in my body and now it was more intense and permanent, I thought why didn't I put on the transparent baby doll?, that same one I show and insinuate to my husband on our nights of mischief and the only one my husband has seen, uff, gave me a chill, I went up to take a bath and while I was bathing and sliding the bar of soap over my body I just thought how would it feel for big rough hands to run over white and delicate skin? One open hand from Marcos could cover all of my breast!!, then with the other hand I could cover the other breast, While I was drying off and applying my moisturizing cream to my body, I was still naked and sitting on the marital bed, hearing noises on the ceiling, Marcos was just above or on top of me? Technically he was on top of me only a thin layer of concrete separated us. I felt sexy, empowered, I felt impudent and shameless, a slut and that was what I was enjoying, so I took some delicate lace bras and without thinking twice I put on the tightest short I had, the one made of jeans, the torn one and a wide and short white blouse with buttons, no sleeves and to finish with the cherry on top: I put it on without a bra!!, What could be the worst that could happen? That he gets nervous and runs away? Or that he gets excited and takes me for his own in my own marital bed just as my husband has dreamed of passing some day.
I went down barefoot and with my hair still wet, to the patio where the stairs were and with the pretext of drying my hair in the sun I shook it loose and dried it with a towel, I knelt down giving Marcos my back, offering him a whole good show that he was probably enjoying from above.
From below, I kept looking at him and saw how his tight shirt clung more to his torso due to sweat, I insisted again that if he wanted something to eat that I would prepare something for myself, but he insisted:
-For now not, maybe water, but I'm going down.
-Why don't you let me bring it up? I said.
-Inconsciously I was already addressing him!!, searching for a sudden closer approach of more confidence?, uff, how tasty that he would also address me when we're alone, that he loses his shame, that he has a dominant role with me, that he treats me confidently or boldly or carelessly when we're alone.
Barefoot and with clumsy movements due to nerves, I carried up a large cold glass of water and handed it to him in his hands and with his two rough and coarse hands wrapped my hand and the glass and smoothly slid his hands and took the glass looking at me with a smile and said thank you and in two seconds he drank all the water with his head thrown back and while drinking, I saw the sweat on his neck and the movement of the water as it passed through his throat and how his jugular vein pulsed.
I was a little lower than his level of vision, had hurried to unbutton myself The first button of the blouse before going up, I without a bra and Marcos from above mine was surely enjoying himself while I received the glass and explained to me that there wasn't much left to finish. -I'll prepare you a very tasty breakfast I said (again addressing him informally). I went down quickly and put myself in charge of preparing his breakfast, quickly and nervously I took out the ingredients and pans to attend to that guy who was working for me from below, asking him what he wanted? Eggs? Coffee or chocolate? Juice? He just said: -Whatever you want is fine, Mrs. Ana. Then I said: -No, because even if you do anything, it might not be to your liking? Uff no, I couldn't believe it already I was in the role of serving him and I wanted him to be satisfied with what I prepared. Even so, I insisted, but how do you like eggs? Scrambled, fried?, Do you want a better omelette? I wanted to attend to him well, then I launched the first signal or flirt: “Nothing you prepare with your hands will turn out ugly, I'll eat it with all the pleasure in the world, but if you want to know, I like fried eggs, coffee, bread and orange juice. I was downstairs and couldn't believe he tuteated me and launched a flirt, I only remembered the little piece: “I'll eat it with all the pleasure”, did he refer to the eggs or to me?, haha. At this point I was more relaxed and with one hand on my forehead to block the sun and the other on my waist and a coquettish pause with the blouse halfway open, I said from below: -Are you sure you'll eat everything that's served to you? -ALL!, Marcos said without hesitation. We looked at each other for a few seconds like challenging each other to see who would look away first, but we laughed and I went smiling into the kitchen to prepare that guy's breakfast as he had ordered me. I was serving and organizing it on the table in the kitchen, so he wouldn't lack anything, bread, coffee, eggs, his breakfast just as I had asked him, I was receiving orders from the worker and very obediently fulfilling his demands, will be. Now in advance will it keep giving me orders?. Suddenly a loud noise!!! horrible, as Marcos was going down the stairs he slipped and fell on me! And with the lateral wall he scraped his arm, I ran out to see what had happened to him, luckily it was just a strong scrape on his left arm, only a little blood from the scrape, it was more the shock and noise. We laughed and went into the kitchen, already having his breakfast served like a king. While he washed his hands I hurried to bring alcohol and gauze to clean up the scrape, then I hurried to unbutton my blouse's second button and when he was about to sit down at the table I approached him from behind without asking permission and very naturally tried to lift his very tight shirt by the sweat stuck to his body, he didn't want to but I insisted and told him it was my responsibility and while he sat eating breakfast, I stood next to him, gently cleaning his wound. The wound was at the height of his shoulder and forearm so I took advantage of touching his biceps and shoulder, my bare thighs were at the height of his arm so I discreetly approached and felt his warm skin on my thighs, he didn't pick up his arm at any moment, instead he opened it to pull it out more from under the table and facilitate my work of touching his shoulder with my thighs and at the rhythm of an unconscious swing that took hold of me, I rubbed my bare thighs harder against his toned muscles. While I was cleaning his back with a wet towel, as wet as my desire in those moments, my 'friend' was lubricated and I found myself in a confused sensation between excitement and nerves. At that moment, despite being freshly bathed and perfumed, I felt dirty and the sluttiest of whores and that excited me. The contrast of a bright brown skin and sweat, rough hands, an uneducated worker, and knowing he had the doctor against her ropes in her own house, imagining they could have her subdued and make her theirs In her own marital bed. If Marcos had wanted to, he could have ripped off my loose white blouse with a single swipe of his hand. The only button left unbuttoned was one of the three buttons on the blouse, while I had already undone the other two - the first when I lifted the water glass and the second when I went for the alcohol. It was the most difficult to undo, with a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a cloth in the other, almost undressing myself right in front of him as I walked towards the kitchen. Only a small button separated my white breasts from his large, rough, and coarse hands, only a small and insignificant piece of plastic separating me from feeling his hands take possession of my breasts, to find out what it feels like for prohibited hands to subdue them, to manhandle them, to caress them, to crush them, to oppress them, to pinch them, to humiliate them. Marcos could have done whatever he wanted with me that morning, putting me in a position where I would do whatever he wanted and I wouldn't put up any resistance, none at all! This continues...
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