My Wife Wired Fantasy with Big Black

My wife is a big fan of Elton John. So when she heard that he would be giving a concert here in our town, she was over the moon. She bought two tickets for the standing arena, the closest to the stage and the most expensive ones, three months before the actual concert. She bought a new dress a very nice body-hugging, curves-enhancing black tube-dress for the event and a pair of patented leather pumps to match.

Early that day, she went to the parlor to spruce herself a bit. She looked so excited and tingly, just like she was on the day we got married ten-years ago. We even arrived at the indoor stadium where the concert was being held full three hours before the start to secure standing space closest to the ring. Although there was some beer and cocktails being sold inside, I also sneaked in a bottle of vodka, that my wife absolutely loves.

There were already about 200 early birds like us and many were drinking freely. We too had our share of alcohol four gin and tonics for wife and lots of beer for me. We were not feeling any pain, especially my wife who was a bit tipsy and already stammering through her sentences. Anyway it was all in good fun. But the fun for my wife and for some other die-hard Elton John fans stopped immediately when just 30 minutes before the concert, the organizers announced that Elton John had food poisoning and would not be able to perform at all, even though he had been polite enough to announce that he would make an appearance half-way through the concert to apologize personally.

There was a murmur of dissent, some angry fans started hurling bottles and shoes and stones at the stage…but then they announced that they had arranged for a boy- band to perform instead. That was not good enough and although my angry wife wanted to storm out, the promise of Elton John making an appearance calmed her down and we decided to stay on, holding on to our precious standing space next to the empty stage. A wave of rowdy crowd, latecomers, then started pushing all early birds around, and soon we found ourselves pushed to the extreme left corner of the stage drunken as both of us were. My wife drowned her sorrow by gulping almost a quarter of the vodka down her throat straight from the bottle.

I was amused and was only wondering at what would be her state when the alcohol reached her brain. Anyway, by the time the boy-band appeared on the stage, my wife had consumed more than half the vodka even though I abstained because at least one of us had to be in his senses when it was time to go home. So there we were my wife absolutely drunken, mumbling incoherently like a homeless drunkard and I, half-drunk and full horny with all the rubbing of my crotch by my wife’s sexy ass, wrapped in a tight dress. The boy-band turned out to be Boy-zone and soon people had forgotten Elton John’s absence. They belted out some nice songs and got everyone to sway and tap their feet.

There was constant pushing and shoving from all three sides of us and I was finding it hard to stick to my wife who was immediately in front of me. Things were not easy as there was no solid support in front of us. Like they usually do, they had separated the stage and the crown (that’s is us) by a rope and with each push from behind, we were pulled against the rope. Fortunately for the organizers the poles holding the ropes were strong and didn’t give way otherwise there would have been cacophony everywhere. There were guards standing with their backs to the stage, keeping a lookout for any trespassers. One of these guards, a burly black man with massive shoulders and tree-trunk thick solid thighs was positioned right in front of us. He was short, just about my wife’s height but he was so thick that he looked like carved from a big fat tree. He had been standing slightly off, but I realized that each time the crowds pushed us from behind, he would move towards us and soon he was directly in front of my wife. I was glad that he was there to save her in case the rope crashed.

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But I soon realized that his intention was farther from saving my wife. The way he behaved, he was there to take advantage of my wife with each push as the front of his body grinded on to the front of my wife’s body. I was already horny, and the thought that a burly black ugly bouncer was grinding in my wife’s crotch only send shivers of pleasure down my cock, which was at full mast. My wife, 30 minutes into the concert was completely gone. She was standing there only because I had clasped her body to mine.

Otherwise she was swaying to and fro and her head hung limply to one side. To have some more fun with her, I started pushing her more frequently, without any push from behind. And once I pushed her I would keep her body locked with that of the bouncer. My eyes were (intentionally) glued to the boy-band singers (they looked very pretty, I realized). It was absolutely dark, as the spotlights focused on the singers and I couldn’t see the ground if I wanted to because of the number of people. So imagine my shock when my hand accidentally dropped down and encountered a big-sized hand jammed in the front of my wife’s crotch. It was the guard-cum-bouncer.

His black hand was jammed inside my wife’s panty and the fingers were moving in and out. He must have been doing this finger fucking of my wife’s pussy for sometime because his hand was dripping wet from my wife’s pussy juice till the knuckles. Being a good faithful loving husband, I should have pulled his black hand and fat fingers out of my wife’s lovely hairy cunt… but I was only thinking from my spongy, purple cock head so I thought let him enjoy just a few more minutes. The poor black man was anyway so sincerely doing his job. Then I concentrated on the movements of my wife’s body under the manipulation of the black bouncer. There was a soft hum to his movements as he slowly finger fucked her moist intimate hole. When I felt a jerking motion convulsing my wife, I ducked my hand down from behind and was further shocked to find that my wife’s lovely lacy panties were missing. He had possibly yanked them off her completely. I know THEN I should have definitely stopped him but my horny cock told me to let him enjoy a little bit more.

Soon the hum of my wife’s body moving to and fro returned. Her slinky black dress had ridden up and short as it was, I realized her rounded big ass was visible to anyone who cared to see down. I should have pulled the dress down but the friction of her smooth ass-cheeks had hardened my cock beyond any redemption and I had no choice but to pull my seven- inch long and five-inch thick uncut aching cock from the confines of my trousers. I thought while the black bouncer was finger fucking her, I could simply fuck her from behind and release my boiling sperm inside her hot moist pussy. Holding her with one hand, I maneuvered my cock between her ass cheeks and pushed it between the ass crack. Lubed generously with my copious pre-cum, it slithered its way between her legs like a well oiled- snake. But there it got stuck by something rough and hairy. I probed with hand and realized I was holding two oval objects with some hairy, tingly rough spiked hair-like things. Oh jinkies, I realized in that moment of truth that those big round thingies were the black bouncer’s hairy black balls and they were blocking my cock’s way to my own wife’s pussy entrance because, his black cock had beaten me to it. The burly black bouncer’s fat black-panther was already inside my wife’s wet sloppy cunt.

I know, I should have immediately hauled his big black cock out of my wife’s pussy but just then my eyes met his smoldering, blood-shot black eyes, and he looked at me pleadingly. His mouth moved slowly but I understood him clearly. He was saying, “Whether you like or not, loser, I am gonna breed your trash wife right here, right now,” or something to that effect. Just as I found my real place in life, as a cuckold meant to let other real black men enjoy my wife’s hairy pussy with their smelly, bigger, superior black cocks,

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