The drive home was a different one for them. Howard held the steering wheel with gentle tenderness both in his grip as well in his heart. He repeatedly checked his reflection in the mirror and was rewarded to find himself smiling back.
April lay asleep beside him. She had reclined her seat and street lights they drove past briefly highlighted her feature; she had a serene quality about herself being asleep. Howard checked his watch and saw it was 9:24 pm. He found a missed call on his phone while busy cleaning himself up in Becca's apartment. He called back and it had been his neighbour's daughter letting him know she had put Carl to bed an hour ago and decided it time to take her leave. Howard thanked her and promised to get in touch with her later. He went into Becca's kitchen and made himself another drink while the women showered together.
April did exchange phone numbers with Becca and promised to keep in touch. Becca shared one last kiss for the evening with Howard and told him how much he had made her day; Howard almost wanted to tell her that she was the one who had done more for him instead. He and April had held hands when they waved goodbye and took their leave. He kept thinking what Olu Shango would make of their encounter. Would he be impressed that Howard actually got to nail his secretary and wife together or chuck it off as something to be expected?
The car went over a speed bump and that invariably cut Howard off his reverie mode. April turned her head and scratched an itch on her cheek. Her mouth broke into a yawn before her eyes awoke.
"Hey," she muttered in a somewhat groggy voice and again gave out another yawn. "Are we closer to home?"
"We ought to be there in the next ten minutes," he said. "You can go back to sleep if you want."
"Nah, I'm good. Anymore of this and sleep will be the last thing on my mind tonight."
She propped her chair to its upright position. Her seatbelt pressed against her torso which in turn partly opened her blouse to reveal her naked flesh highlighted by the street lights beyond her window. Howard observed this as he looked at her.
"Where's your bra?"
"Right where my panties are," she indicated at her handbag. "No point putting them anymore," she added and stretched her arms as she yawned. Her hand caressed the back of his head. "What's got you smiling like that?"
"You and everything we did back there. I can't believe we did all of that."
"All part of not keeping secretes anymore, darling."
"I know, and I'm learning my ways." He took her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You were amazing today."
She laughed. "If you think I am, you haven't seen what Jenny can do. She's a professional more than I'll ever be; being a slut is like a way of life for her."
Howard fell silent as a thought happened suddenly on his mind. It surprised him to think such, and yet it seemed plausible coming from April.
"Prior to when we left the house, did you plan what would happen today? I mean before we got there, was this something you wanted to do?"
"I wish," she said. She looked at him and saw what appeared to be doubt in his eyes. "I'm telling the truth, dear. Nothing we did today ever crossed my mind. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. You just seemed so . . . in the mood when we got there."
"My actual mission was to see Becca, say a word or two to her and then leave you two alone. To think we'd end up having a threesome never once crossed my mind. Seeing her in that lingerie just woke the devil in me," she chuckled, then added, "I could not help myself. But even more, I think I wanted something else."
"What?" he turned to her. "What more did you want?"
"Not now, darling. I'll tell you when we get home."
They did get back home. Howard parked the car and they went inside. April checked on Carl then retired to their bedroom; neither of them felt hungry.
They got out of their clothes and minutes later April straddled Howard's face while he lay defenceless on the bed still in his briefs rolling his tongue in and out of her pussy. April rocked and bucked her pelvis over his chin and raked her nails through her hair from the craven lust he was unleashing upon her. After he made her cum with his tongue and they lay snuggled in each other's arms, it was then she brought up her own question weighting in the back of mind since.
"So, tell me more about this Olu Shango character and why you insist that I spend time with him."
* * *
Around the time Howard was submitting to April's wants in their bedroom, in a street not far from theirs, Ted Simms sat up in bed with his wife Holly, who sat facing him with her feet folded together Indian-style. She wore a chiffon night dress. She ought to be asleep already except she had to spend another exasperated evening listening to Ted explain over and over like he had done plenty of times before what he had been begging her to do for him. Holly listened with mild disbelief at what he was unloading upon her. She had listened to his pleas and arguments, him declaring it was something for them to enjoy together. Those were his words except whenever he talked she got the strong impression that he practically wanted it for her.
As if listening to Tim spout explicit stuff to her was not insufferable enough, he had over the previous months bought her outrageous number of sex toys. Vibrators, dildos, neck chokers, anal beads—the kind of stuff she never would have dared herself owning were Tim not insistent and persuasive about them. He had stocked her library with an eclectic collection of erotic literature including porn, ranging from ones that were romantic in nature to hard-core collections. And then there were ones that involved multiple couples and of women indulging in profound sadomasochistic fetish. Those ones she considered way too bizarre to dare watch a second time.
Holly was not that much a porn fan as her husband was, though she found the erotic novels somewhat ideal to consume. The ones Ted bought her almost always featured the same theme: tales married couples or wives sneaking out of their homes to enjoy explicit sex with muscle-bound black men. The stories were too good to be true, and yet Tim insisted such really does happen. That there are couples out there who actually lived such crazy type of life and the benefits were immense. Holly was not completely naive. She was swayed by the narrative of the stories but merely from a fantasy standpoint. To think that Ted had not given up attempting to convince her to partake in such was beyond befuddlement. And yet here he was attempting to persuade her again as he often did.
"Hold on one second, Ted," she raised her hand compelling Ted to quit his repetitious yammering.
Ted stopped and sat with a meek face and his head cocked to the side. Holly swept her ash-blonde hair backward as she attempted making sense of everything he had divulged to her so far.
"This whole thing . . . of being a cuckold," she uttered the word as if spitting a berry seed. "You talk about wanting me to cuck you—you want me to go out and have sex with another man—think about what you're saying, Ted. Doesn't that sound a lot like cheating?"
"That's what makes it interesting darling," his eyes lit with fervour once more. He held her hand in both of his as if wanting her to be on the same erotic vibe. "It's never cheating as long as I know—as long as it's about the both of us," he said. "Besides, I said nothing about you screwing whatever fellow you run into on the street; that would be crazy of me. If we're going to do this then it's going to be with someone we're both familiar with. Someone that will make it a special thing for us and won't take. And definitely someone who's clean and no drugs or diseases."
"What about all of that crazy sex stuff we saw in those other porn flicks? The ones I can't stand to watch with all the whips and chains and—ain't no fucking way I'm having any of that done to me, you hear? No way."
"I agree, and I won't dare have you going through any of that, darling." Ted pulled her into his arms and comforted her. "No drugs, no venereal diseases and no crazy BDSM sex stuff. This is going to be straight sex and nothing more."
Holly was not all that convinced. "I still can't understand what's got you infatuated with this subject. I've never complained about our sex life or made you think that you're not good enough for me. Honey, I love you and I love everything we have intimately. Isn't that enough?"
"I too love you and what we have, Holly," Ted touched her chin for her to look at him and they shared a deep kiss.
He was so acquainted with his wife's highs and lows, her complaints and worries, though had never presumed until recently how challenging it would be to get her to see things his way. He had described and plotted worthy scenarios with Olu Shango over the phone earlier in the day. He had suggested to him a couple of pointers guaranteed to push his persuasion well. From the look of things he figured he was succeeding.
"We do have a wonderful life and we've got ourselves a lovely home," he continued. "But some things we've got to face together. I can't satisfy you the best way possible."
She hit his hand irritably. "Stop talking like that, Ted. Please, just stop it."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound that way. This is something I want us to share and enjoy." Usually whenever she acted morose or undecided he would quit for the day and leave her alone with her thoughts. Shango had urged him to keep on this time, not to stop until he got a definitive resolve. "I want to see you have the best goddamn sex you can ever dream of having."
"This whole thing sounds . . . just wrong to me. Say we were to try this—and I'm not saying we will—just say we do, what happens if I don't end up liking it? What happens then?"
"If you don't like it, then that will be the end of it. I won't ever bring up the subject and I promise never to bother you about it again."
"You say that now, but you'll change your mind later."
"I'm serious, Holly. I know I can't really convince you to go all the way, but I'd like us to give it a try. Can we at least do that? Just one try, and if you don't like it then you can say no and I promise not to be a Grinch about it."
She looked at him. "You mean that?"
"Very much I do. We'll hook up with someone who'll take things easy for us. If ever you feel uncomfortable about him or you don't like the way things go, just say the word and that will be the end of it. Scout's honour," he raised his right hand.
That got her smiling after a long night of trying to sell the idea to her. "All right, I'll think about it."
"That's my girl," he kissed her.
They switched off the lights and said goodnight to each other before settling into bed. Later Holly tapped Ted's arm and his eyes came open.
"What's up, darling?" he caressed her hand.
"I just wanted to know whoever it is you'd want to break us into this. Have you found someone already?"
"I have," he said. And I'll be dialling his number tomorrow once I head out to work, he said to himself, smiling inward while he did.
* * *
It was 10:35 pm. Dave Belling sat in his library watching old clips of Jenny getting serviced by a number of clients.
He kept a stash of her output in separate DVD cases which he hid in a safe box in a wall in his library and preferred going through them around midnight when he knew everyone was asleep or whenever he had the entire house to himself. The latter was seldom unless whenever Jenny took the kids with her to Chicago to spend time with her parents. Only then would he get to relax and watching them in the comfort of the living room and masturbate to his satisfaction. On few occasions he had invited a black man over. On such occasions he would wear one of Jenny's panties and stockings and would service the man's cock in his living room and perform whatever sexual need the man demanded. He had not done that in a long time for fear that one of such men might one day pay him an unscheduled visit, or worst that a neighbour might get too curious and start tattling.
Dave stopped the movie he was watching in his computer desktop and ejected the disc and slipped it back into its case. He returned the DVD case into his safe box then thought for a moment and reached for another case, one that was special to him. He returned to his chair and slipped the disc into the computer's slot. Dave clicked the PLAY button, whipped his penis out of his shorts and stroked himself towards erection as the movie came on.
The recording was two years old and had taken place in a motel. There he was wearing one of his favourite cross-dresser outfit (he was in full make-up too, wearing a wig as well) and was on his knees sucking two black men's cocks while a third man filmed the action. The volume was low, but he could distinctly hear the voices of the men mouthing off at him while taking turns to fuck his face.
Dave stroked his harder while the movie played, relieving the moment in his mind as well. It was one of his favourite recordings of himself. He had connected with the men via a fetish website and even paid them for their time. Jenny knew nothing about it. He had told her he was traveling to Boston for a conference meeting. The conference did actually take place in Boston but it had been over in two days. Dave had used the last day catching his private fun. It was a good thing that Jenny knew nothing about his wall safe. She was aware of his cross-dressing habit and that he loved sucking black cock but that was as far as she cared to know about his fetish; whatever else he did with himself she was not inclined to know and he chose not to bother her about it.
The movie got to the part where the men took turns fucking him while he blew the other's cock. Dave always enjoyed this part. He soon reached his climax and ejaculated all over his hand. He watched the video to its end before returning the disc back into its case and back into the wall safe hidden behind a section of his book shelf. He cleaned himself off before putting locking up his library and returning upstairs to Jenny.
* * *
It was an hour past midnight. Black Master Olu Shango slept on a king-sized bed in a large bedroom with the blonde woman from the previous party asleep beside him; her arm rested across his torso. Their bodies bore tiny beads of sweat. The air in the room carried faint aroma of sex.
The woman's husband was Anthony Lamark, and he slept on a cot by the foot of the bed. He appeared content and happy that his wife's lover had decided to come spend the night in his home, but not before fucking his wife and filling her pussy with his superior seed.