Wife Stories: Denise

If you don’t like fictional stories where a wife cheats on her husband with a black guy, then perhaps you could choose not to read this. It’s very similar to not liking a type of music, or food, or movie – I simply choose not to listen, eat, or view them.





Introduction

“I know how your marriage to Wayne ended,” Henry said, slowly licking in between Denise’s large breasts.

Her head was back, her mouth open, eyes closed, an orgasm subsiding. She was straddling Henry in bed, giving herself to him – like she does daily. Their naked bodies faintly illuminated by the orange glow of candles next to their bed in their new Charleston, South Carolina home.

Henry squeezed a breast, sucking its nipple, “I know he was a horrible person. I know he was cold, manipulative, evil.”

Denise moaned, her long, dark hair flowing down her back. “Yes,” she whispered.

Henry switched to her other breast, giving it loving kisses and licks. “I know he was a mistake.”

“Y-yes,” Denise was tingling, her body numb.

“I know you needed and searched for pleasure. I know you found it,” Henry said, pulling her thick mane of hair, forcing her neck to arch. He licked along it. Denise’s pussy contracted on Henry’s cock.

“I don’t want to know about how many men you slept with while married to that piece of shit. I want to know about one – the most memorable one,” Henry ordered.

He released Denise’s hair. She moaned, and grabbed his face, kissing him, sucking in his breath, his tongue, his very being. Like the countless passionate kisses she gave him, Henry, the man she loved more than anything or anyone, this one was no different. They traded souls with one another. Their bodies still merged into one.

She broke the kiss, running her fingers through her hair. “I love you,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“I love you too,” Henry replied.

Denise adjusted herself, grinding against him a few times, making sure his cock was still inside her as deep as possible.

A small smile came over her face. “I remember. It was,” she paused. “Very sweet.”


-1-

It was another regular day at the gym. I went 4 times a week. It was a Saturday when I talked to him.

He and his buddies had been checking me out for a while. I’d see them look over to me, sometimes nod or giggle, one in particular looked at me in a different way. He didn’t look at me and blush or quickly smile and look away, he studied me, stared at me.

Having a husband that paid no attention to me, who was indifferent, being looked at like that was quite enjoyable. It happened for weeks. I never said anything, I just let him watch me.

He was young. I guessed 18 or 19. His buddies looked around that age too. I wondered if he was in college.

He was also black. He was tall, lean, and toned. I found myself watching him lift weights when I was in between my own sets. Over time, I watched him like he watched me. There was lust there.

Thoughts of cheating on Wayne with a younger black guy, with Wayne never knowing about it, made me even more excited. Usually I dismissed those thoughts, thinking it was just me being horny, lonely, unfulfilled in my marriage.

But this young man kept watching me. He regularly went out of his way in the gym to walk by me. He’d sometimes nod at me, glancing at my cleavage. I’d give a quick smile and go on with my workout.

They day I chose to talk to him was a day he was by himself. He was at the water fountain, purposely walking by me to get there. I went up behind him and waited for him to finish filling up his cup. He was done and turned around, taken off guard by seeing me there.

“Hi!” I said. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Oh, uh, it’s all good,” he said, standing there a little awkwardly.

“I’m Denise,” I broke the silence, extending my hand.

He shook it, his huge, black hand, covering my small, white one. “Sup. Tyrell.”

I had to stifle a giggle. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise, likewise,” he nodded, trying not to glance at my cleavage and exposed midriff.

We shared another awkward moment and I spoke up. “Alright, well, I’ll let you get back to your workout. I’m just going to grab some water.”

“Yeah, aight,” Tyrell said, nodding at me. “See ya around.”

“See ya,” I waved, watching him a walk away. I glanced at his ass. It seemed muscular from what I could tell.

A little while later I left the gym, making a point to smile and wave at Tyrell as I left. I chuckled seeing him try to be cool, giving me a quick nod.

Wayne was in his home office upstairs when I got home. I thought about stripping naked, seeing if he wanted me, but I didn’t care enough to. Our sex life was dead. He spent most of time on the phone, working, making deals, or getting new clients to represent in court.

I casually rubbed my clit in the shower, thinking of Tyrell and how excited it’d be to get to know him, maybe even have an affair with him.

******

Tyrell and I became friends. Over the next few weeks, we said hello more, I smiled while he gave me his standard “sup.”

I noticed he was alone on Saturday’s. We met at the water fountain more then.

“I see you’re alone here today again. Your buddies don’t join you on Saturdays?” I asked, while filling up my water bottle.

“Nah. They ain’t interested. They rather sleep, ya know?” he said.

“Yes. Well you’re showing dedication by being here consistently.”

“Yeah, gotta stay sharp, on point during off season.”

“Off season? Ah so you play at college?”

“No ma’am. I play high school football.”

I was slightly shocked; I could’ve sworn he was a college student. “I see. Gosh, I thought you were in college!”

“No ma’am. I graduate in a couple months. I’ll be 18 next week,” Tyrell informed me.

“Oh,” I said, eyes wide. “Al-alright. I thought you were older!” I laughed it off.

“Nah. How old are you? I mean, uh,” he regretted asking. “You look like 20-something,” he backtracked.

“Heh, I’ll be 37 in June,” I smiled.

“Oh shit, I mean, cool.”
I laughed and swatted his arm. “What position do you play?”

“Safety.”

I nodded, pretending I knew what it was.

“Aight, well I gotta go. Need to do some stuff for my parents,” Tyrell said.

“Ok, it was nice chatting with you,” I smiled up at him.

“Yeah, it was. I’ll see you later,” Tyrell took his leave. I watched him exit the gym, he looked over his shoulder at me and I waved. He turned away, probably embarrassed.

I couldn’t believe he was still 17. I stopped myself in the shower that evening from masturbating to him. I couldn’t do it. It felt wrong. But wow, when he turns 18? I shook the thoughts from my head, my moans echoing in our bathroom, Wayne in his office, unaware I was pleasuring myself.

Tyrell was with his friends the following week. We shared glances, smiles, a “sup” by him when he walked by.

On Thursday, I saw him huddle with his friends and glance over to me. A moment later I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hey.”

I turned around, my eyes to his. “Hi Tyrell.”

I glanced back to his friends, they quickly looked away. “So how you doin?”

“Good, good. How are you?”

“Good,” he cleared his throat.

“So, your birthday is soon, right?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

“Well great!” I touched his forearm. “Hope you have a good birthday.”

“Yeah. Thanks, I gotta go,” Tyrell said. He glanced back to his friends when he walked away. One gave him a thumbs up. I tried my best not to erupt with laughter.

A couple days later, I saw him, now 18, at the gym alone. I smiled, watching him do bench presses from across the gym. I smiled at myself, knowing the previous night, I rubbed myself raw thinking explicitly of Tyrell. I thought about taking his cock in my mouth, sucking it, then riding it until he blew his load in me.

“He’s 18 now,” I whispered, out-of-breath, coming down off the orgasm. Wayne was working late. I rested and went at it again.

The next day, I jabbed his side from behind at the water fountain. “Hi there, Mr. 18-year-old.”

“Heh, sup Denise?” He turned around, wiping his mouth.

“So you doing anything awesome for your birthday?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Aww, that’s a shame!”

“No biggie.”

“You should do something. Anything. Your friends taking you out? You parents?”

“Nah.”

I thought quickly, my own lust, horniness, anger at my neglectful husband took over. “Well I’ll take you out!”

His eyes lit up. “Uh, for real?”

“Yes! For real,” I laughed.

“Uh, well, I mean. I don’t know.”

“Maybe we can meet somewhere for dinner? Nothing fancy, just hanging out, you know?”

“Yeah, maybe. Are you sure? I mean you, uh,” he glanced at my left hand, my wedding ring. I wondered if he thought I wanted to cheat on my husband with him or if he was unsure about going to dinner with a married woman.

“Yes. I’m sure. I know a nice little place where we can meet.”

I gave him my phone number, he looked like he didn’t know what to do with it. “Call me later today, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll do that,” he stuffed the piece of paper into his pocket.

“Great. I’ll see you tonight!” I beamed, patting his arm. I left thinking about what I wanted and what would happen.

I shaved my legs, I trimmed my pussy, I picked out a nice red dress. I know I told him the restaurant wasn’t anything fancy, but I didn’t care. Was I going to cheat on Wayne? I brushed my hair, adjusted my cleavage and dress, looked in the mirror and told myself: “I’m going to seduce Tyrell. I’m cheating on Wayne tonight.”

I grabbed my purse, hollered down the hall that I was meeting a friend for dinner, and left. In my mind it was the truth. Wayne didn’t reply back.



-2-

Tyrell was embarrassed when he saw me. “Oh shit,” he looked down to his cargo shorts and tennis shoes.

I laughed and patted his arm again, “You look fine! Don’t worry about it. This is a new dress I wanted to wear. That’s all.”

“You, uh, you look good,” he said, looking shyly away.

“So do you,” I took his arm and we went inside.

I learned a lot about Tyrell. He told me about accepting a football scholarship at school out-out-state. He told me he lives and breathes football. That would explain why he works out so much. He said he practices all the time, even on weekends.

I, of course, asked the young man about girls. He shook his head, saying there was no one special. He hasn’t even had time to think about going to his senior prom.

“Aww. I’ll go with you!” I joked.

“Heh, you could. If you wanted. I mean, you look good enough to pass as a senior,” Tyrell said.

“You really think I look that young?” I placed my hand on his. He gulped nervously.

“Well, yeah. Maybe don’t make eye contact with teachers and you’d be aight.”

I laughed, patting his hand. “You’re sweet.”

“That’s cool you taking me out for my birthday and all. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s a nice break from practicing and working out, right?”

“For real. Yeah.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, his dessert arriving shook us out of it. “Dig in!” I said, grabbing my spoon. We shared his birthday fudge brownie cake.

I quickly grabbed the check, paying it. He thanked me and we left.

“So. The night is young. You have a curfew?” I asked, standing at my car.

“Midnight.”

“We got a few hours. Want to hang out at my home?”

“Well yeah, but your husband?”

“If he’s there, he’s probably in his office. We’ll be quiet and head around back,” I said, wondering if Tyrell knew what I wanted.

“Uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at my cleavage again.

“Follow me,” I said, reaching for his other hand. I squeezed it and smiled softly.

“Ok,” he agreed.

******

“Nice place,” Tyrell said after following me home. I grabbed his arm, leading him around the side of the house, through the gate, by the pool area.

I opened the glass basement door, leading into the home gym Wayne never used and a finished living room area with small kitchen. We had perfect view of the shimmer pool water. I turned on a single lamp, knowing my husband would never come down here. I spoke in hushed tones just to be safe.

I grabbed myself some wine, not offering Tyrell some. “Sorry, you’re still a minor,” I winked, sitting next to him on the large leather couch.

“Heh, yeah, true.”

“Soooo,” I patted his thigh, sipping my wine. “I’ve had a really nice evening so far.”

“Heh, yeah me too.”

“18,” I smiled, sliding my hand a little closer to his crotch. “Cute too.”

“Hey, uh, Denise, listen. I think, you’re um, well,” Tyrell tried to say.

“Yes?” I smiled, inching closer to his crotch.

“Nice. And hot too.”

I laughed, “Hot huh?”

“Yeah.”

I went serious for a moment, briefly pondering if I was really going to seduce this 18-year-old kid on his birthday, cheating on my husband.

I slid to the floor, In between his legs.

“What, what are you –“

“Shhh, we’re going to have a wonderful night, Tyrell.”

I removed the straps of my dress, pulling the top part down, exposing my breasts.