1.
Michael was always curious about my sex life before we met. It was my fault having told him a bit about my early years as a party-type girl. This was years before I decided to find and settle down with someone decent like him. Yes, I've had my wild days. Those were days I've long attempted to put behind me. But for some persisting reason, Michael was the one who kept bringing it up.
He was always fascinated by my past as if he missed out on crazy things, which he somewhat did. But this was stuff I learned earlier on. Michael grew up a sheltered child. His parents were fifth-generation Ivy League (if that means anything in today's world.) He was a product of prep schools and social clubs, the likes of which only the rich and well-to-do were allowed through its gates. How he got to fall for someone like me, I can never fathom. But fall in love he did, as did I, and now here we are, three years into our married like, but sometimes it feels like ten.
So here we were, one night, sipping white wine while watching an erotic thriller on Netflix featuring a famous black-American actor whose work I enjoy when my husband suddenly began to chuckle. It was the sort of chuckle I knew that came with something attached to a stick.
"What?" I asked playfully.
He indicated at the black actor on the screen and said, "Don't he remind you of one of your past lovers?"
I blushed. He was referring to Zeke Darren, a former lover of mine whose prowess in bed was unlike anything I had ever encountered before or after. It haunted me to have mentioned the 'after' part to Michael the day I narrated to him about my turbulent days with Zeke; it appeared he hadn't forgotten about that.
"Zeke was a lot taller," I said. "What's got you thinking about that anyway?"
"Nothing. Just popped in my head, that's all." He was quiet for a moment, and I thought that would be the end of it, then he opened up about another aspect of my past. "Do you still think about those times when you said Zeke made you visit Glory Hole spots?"
I looked at him, surprised that he remembered that. "Why would you even bring that up?"
"I'm going to be honest with you, Sylvia. I've always imagined you in one of those Glory Hole places, wanting to see you in action."
"You mean you've thought about me sucking other men's cocks?" I asked, dazed by his admission. I don't know if it was the wine we were sipping. Suddenly it was rousing me in ways I never expected. "How long have you thought of that, hon?"
"Since the day you first mentioned it to me," he said, looking sheepish when he did. "I'd been wanting to confess to you but didn't know how. I didn't want to upset you since I know you sometimes don't enjoy telling me about your past. But I sure won't mind if you got back into that line of work you once did with Zeke. Remind me again, what was that fancy name of his?"
"His name is Zeke," I said, "but everyone called him Pimp Zee. He pimped me to have sex with men, Michael. That's not exactly the sort of work anyone would easily be proud to admit."
"But you did admit to enjoying it," he pressed on, "I mean when you were with him. You did have fun, did you not?"
"You're right, I did have fun. But why do you want me to do this? What's gotten you fixated on this?"
He shrugged, then said: "I really don't know. I feel like I've missed out on a lot of things. So many stuff I'd love to experience that I could only dream of doing. I just would love to see you in that mode again, even if once. Do this for me one time, and I promise not to bring it up again."
I looked at him seriously, wondering if he was for real or the wine was taking control of him.
"You're sure about this?"
"Positively," he answered.
"You should know one thing, hon. This lifestyle is addictive. Once you get a taste, it's likely to consume you. Please think twice before you go down this road."
"As long as you're beside me, I don't care of anything else. I do want to venture down this road, darling." He pulled me closer for a kiss. "As long as you're with me."
Somehow I sensed those were words I was going to regret. But since he said it so nicely—and because I had alcohol swimming in my bloodstream—I decided to take the bait and see about giving him a taste.
I checked the time on my watch—9:45 p.m. I thought for a moment, then got up and offered him my hand.
"Come on, let's go out for a drive," I said.
"Where to?" he said after taking my hand and rising to his feet.
"Don't ask," I said. "Just trust me on this. But first, go change your shirt. Anything casual."
Michael switched off the TV with the remote then took off for the stairs. He stopped then looked at me and asked: "What about you, hon? Ain't you going to change?"
"No, I'm all right. Do you want to do this or not?"
He didn't bother asking as he then turned and ran up the stairs while struggling to unbutton his shirt. In the meantime, I used my phone to check if one of my old haunts was still standing. So much has changed over the years due to city zonings and gentrification. Old places were getting demolished to make way for new ones. Lucky for me, I found one of several.
Michael returned two minutes later in a t-shirt that went with his jeans.
"If we're going out, we're going to need face masks," he said and offered me one that he had brought down with him.
I wore my mask, then grabbed the car keys from where he had left it on a coffee table. Michael switched off the lights before we made it out the door. He got into the passenger seat while I keyed in the ignition.
"Where're we going?" he said after buckling his seat belt.
"You'll find out," I replied, then pulled out of our driveway.
2.
We drove five miles past the city outskirts before pulling into a shopping mall drive-thru. The drive-thru hadn't existed the last time I had been here—I guess you can call that progress—but the XXX shopping center still existed, thank God. I found us a parking space, then told Michael to follow my lead as we strolled toward the shopping center.
The place hadn't changed much. The outer shop contained a massive stock of porn movies—it was like walking into a comic book store. There were other people there, and like us, they all wore face masks; a few even wore hand gloves. Everybody went about their business inspecting the racks of porn movies. A narrow corridor in the back led to other rooms. I remember one of them led to another that sold plenty of sex toys. The Glory Hole room was further down; there was a sign that led to it.
I stopped and looked at Michael and said, "If you want to back out, now your last chance."
He shook his head. "Ain't nobody backing out here, darling. Let's do this."
I smiled and led the way inside.
It was a large room divided into separate booths. A few of the booths had a red light in front of the door indicating they were occupied. I found one with a green light that was empty, and together we went inside and the door locked automatically.
The booth was the size of a narrow box. There were cut-out holes in the wall. It didn't take seconds before an erect penis stuck through one of the holes. We both took off our face masks.
"Watch me, honey," I said to Michael before dropping to my knees and proceeded to give head.
It took little effort for me to get into the groove of enjoying the foreplay I was giving. I could feel the penis growing hard in my mouth. I stroked its shaft and rolled my tongue around the mushroom-shaped head before swallowing more of it. Sucking cock was something my erstwhile love and pimp, Zeke, had taught me. He declared that I was so good I was one of his few whores that made him cum so fast. As I continued my foreplay, another penis stuck its head through another hole. This one was a black cock; I leaped to the challenge and attacked it as well. Michael stood by the door mesmerized. I took a moment to smile at him while I went from one cock to the other. Within minutes I was drooling and ounces of spite stuck to my chin and rolled down my neckline onto my dress. I was like a vixen; the more I sucked, the hornier I grew.
At one point, another black cock peeped through another hole. To my startled amazement, Michael came and grabbed it and put his mouth to it. I stopped for a second to watch him. He went ahead, sucking the cock as if such wasn't new to him at all. There was no shame in his eyes. All I saw instead was glee that I had brought him here with me.
We exchanged cocks, and he sucked the ones I had previously played with. He didn't even flitch or appear repulsed when one penis squirted semen in his face. He went on sucking the cock even as it continued ejaculating on him. I came to his aid and helped lick some of the cum off his chin, then shared it with him as we locked lips.
Such was the start of a new-found relationship with my husband.
3.
We stayed to suck a couple more penises together, making sure they all ejaculated onto our faces. I was agape when I looked at my watch and saw the time as 11:41. Michael finished cleaning another black cock before I then told him we were done. He seemed reluctant to leave, like he was starting to have his fun, but still he did as I wanted and rose to his feet. We left the booth and found ourselves a restroom to clean ourselves up. We both had cum stains on our clothes. Michael tore bits of tissue to wipe the splatters off my dress. We looked at ourselves in the mirror to make sure we were clean enough before taking our leave.
The adult shop was in full swing; there were more people milling around than when we first arrived. Several of them were going into one of the two theatre rooms where they played porn flicks daily. I told Michael that sometimes women went in there to get fucked while others watched.
"Have you done that before?" he asked as we were leaving through a side exist doorway.
"Of course," I said. "Believe me, I've done a lot more wild things than you can imagine. Just be grateful I'm not living that life anymore."
We got back into the car and this time I handed him the keys to drive. I pointed out the route we had taken as he headed toward home. Neither of us said anything at first. In my mind, I was reflecting on the image of having watched my husband suck unknown men's cocks before my very eyes. How long had he been keeping such secret from me? Was this something he had done often without my knowledge, or was it his first-time experiencing such?
"I know what you're thinking," Michael said while driving. He turned to look at me, giving me an ironic smile that said he truly knew what was rolling in my head. "You're wondering how come I came to do such with you, right?"
"The thought did cross my mind to ask."
"I grew up in Cape Cod. You know this," he looked at me as if to acknowledge that I knew about his history. When I nodded, he continued. "I had a friend once called Jerry. He's in Europe now working as a visiting professor in Cambridge. We were very close when we were young. We did a lot of things neither of our folks knew we were doing: smoking weed, catcalling chicks, watching porn . . ."
He trailed off at that point. I got the feeling there was more to it than that.
"What sort of porn?"
"All sorts," he said. "Interracial, gangbangs, orgies . . . but what got us hooked was gay porn. Jerry loved those."
"You guys experimented with each other?" I said, attempting to fill in the blanks.
"We often did, yeah." He kept his eyes on the road while he talked. "But we had to be careful, hon. Cape Cod is a very tight, conservative place. Don't let nobody fool you. Almost every family there knows each other and what they do. What Jerry and I often did was we would take summertime trips to New York. That was where we got to have fun."
"What was in New York?"
"I was doing a summer internship in Greenwich Village while Jerry was attending college in Boston. He would come to visit me and we'd tour the city, looking for kinky spots. Over in New York, there's hundreds of such places, and not once did we run into anybody who knew us."
"How come you never told me this?"
He shrugged his shoulders and glanced at my direction before returning to his driving. "I wanted to," he said. "But I was afraid you might think it crazy. When you told me about your past, it kinda made sense that we've lived similar lives before. Except yours was far interesting than mine. It's been nearly fourteen years since the last time I sucked another man's cock, and never before had I tasted black cock until tonight."
I reached across to caress his arm. "Was it everything you wanted it to be?"
"It sure was," he said.
"You thinking about wanting to do it again?"
"I'd sure love to," he smiled back. "But I'd like if we can go further next time," he added.
"Further as in how?"
"I'll tell you about it when we get home."
We were less than a mile from home when he said that.
We lived in an enclosed neighborhood that was a quiet community. Our neighbors were like us—rich, upper-class folk, majority of whom lived behind high walls and gated front yards with attack dogs; the community had its own police force that was made up of former combat officers. And like us, majority of our neighbors were Caucasian, with one or two African-American families, but sadly no Asians.
Michael, my husband, worked as the CEO of a multinational software company while I was a stay-at-home wife. I was 33 years old while Michael was 35; so far, we didn't have any kids. Our marriage was going strong. But from the look of things, it was about to get interesting after my husband and I visiting the sex shop, then of him admitting his secret bisexuality to me.
The question now was what we were going to do about it.
An hour later we laid in bed cuddling against each other. I kept seeing Michael sucking those cocks alongside me, looking happy with himself, and I wondered what we were going to do next.
"Darling, are you asleep?" I said.
"Uh-uh."
"You said before you want us to take things further. How further do you mean?"
He was silent for a moment, then he said: "I'd like for us to go back to the Glory Hole spot again, and I'd like to see you get fucked by one of the cocks in there."
I figured he was going to say something like that. "Is that what you want?"
"It's one of the things that I want."
"Oh. What else?"
"That Zeke fellow, do you know how to get in touch with him?"
That was a surprise, and it made me tense against him. "I might. Why? You want to meet him yourself?"
"I'd like if you can get back with him so he can come by here and fuck you in my presence."
I sat up on the bed, realizing it was dark, my hand fumbled about till I found a light switch that lit half of the room. Michael stared back at me like he hadn't just uttered what I heard from him.
"Are you fucking serious?"
"I am, darling. And I think it's about time you and I stopped lying to each other." He took my hand in his. "I want everything that's best for you, Sylvia. Wealth, I can give you. But sex is one thing my money cannot buy. I want to learn to embrace my hidden side of my life and not live in shame of it. And I want you to be the same."
"But there's nothing wrong about me being who I am, Michael. Really, you shouldn't take this farther than what it is already."
"But I am," he said, "and I know you want this, too. I want you to have this freedom, and I want you to give it to me, too."
I was stung and could not come up with words to argue against him. There was a part of me that was happy about everything though. I switched off the lights and laid on his chest once again. I did fall asleep dreaming of fucking black dicks. I also dreamed of Zeke.