A Warning to White Husbands
Appreciated what you have. That is the lesson that I hope to pass on to those of
you who read this. What I relay to you in my text is not a glamorous story,
something that I am proud of, nor is it an erotic tale. I am taking the time to
write about what happened to me as a warning to the other white husbands may be
heading down the same path that I have walked. There are seemingly so many white
men cruising the internet seeking and reading tales of the cheating white wife,
wives gone black, and cuckolded husbands. Those of you reading this take my
story for what it is intended - as a warning. The realization and reality of the
wish for a Black Stud (or anyone else for that matter) to sex or breed your wife
can be very harsh. What follows is what I recently experienced.
My wife and I are in our early 40s. We had been married for 20 years and had a
very strong marriage. We had both been faithful to each other since we met
immediately after college. We dated only a few months before becoming engaged,
and we married about a year later. My wife was an attractive, shy, and seemingly
innocent young woman when I met her. We were instantly drawn to each other and
have been inseparable since we met. After I had already fallen for her, but
before we were engaged, I learned that prior to meeting me she had dated several
Black Men while she was in college. Worse yet, that she had been impregnated by
one and had his child. She gave him custody of this child, and she never saw the
When I learned of her past, I was quietly disturbed by these facts. Where I grew
up, white women dating Black Men was heavily frowned upon. If my friends of
family learned of my future wife’s past, they would view her in an unfavorable
light. I also feared what they would think of me for loving a woman who had
sexed and been bred by Black Men. As I have stated, I had already fallen for
her. I followed my heart and acted as if it was not a big deal. We loved each
other – and we both had pasts. I told her that we should keep her past our
secret. Of course, her family already knew the story, but it was not something
that they ever spoke of. That obstacle out of the way, we married and lived our
lives together happily for many years – until last year.
I do not understand the exact reason why, but about two years ago, I started to
become obsessed with my wife’s past with Black Men. Maybe it was because I had a
lot of time on my hands since I was between jobs. During this time, my
self-confidence began to wane. For reasons still unknown to me, I started
thinking about her having that Black child. I began to sulk about us, after all
these years, not having any children of our own. I felt inadequate and started
to believe that my wife was secretly thinking of her former Black Lovers during
our increasingly less frequent sex sessions.
A factor in why I may have begun to have these thoughts is that a few years
after we married, we discovered that I am medically unable to have children.
Still, despite this, my wife never complained and stayed with me. She did this
even though I know she very badly wanted to have a family. Her loyalty and
faithfulness to me should have made me value her more, but I was too
self-absorbed. She had always stood by me. I think that my loss of
self-confidence during my layoff, the surplus of time, and my idle mind set the
conditions for the disaster that followed.
After we re-located to a new city in order for me to start my next career, I was
sent on an extended business trip out of town by my new company. I had a lot of
time on my hands during the evenings, and found myself surfing interracial web
sites and adult yahoo groups. The more I read of these white women being sexed
and want wanting to be bred by Black Man, the more I became insecure and angry
about my wife’s past. I cannot explain or justify these feelings, but I can only
tell you that is what I felt. Eventually and gradually more increasingly, I
began exchanging email with members on these sites. Specifically, I sought out
Black Men and began to ask them if they would be interesting in sexing or
breeding my wife.
I received responses from most of the Black Men I wrote to. Some of the
responses were very over the top, and I knew my wife would never go for them. I
also received a few extremely polite responses which indicated discretion on the
part of this pool of Black Men. One in particular, Michael, stood out and seemed
especially promising. He was not pushy, was intelligent, and he lived about an
hour from us. He was close enough to do what I fantasized about but not too
close to be suffocating.
Over time, I relayed to him many details about my wife and out relationship. I
told him that I would be away from home for several months and that he would
have ample opportunity to gradually gain my wife’s confidence and ultimately
hopefully turn her back to Black. He understood the need for discretion and that
I did not want her to know that I was behind this. I provided him my wife’s
email address and a cover story to make contact with my wife. I was excited
about the prospect and thought his chances of bedding my wife were good.
He emailed her with a simple note which informed her that he was a polite, nice,
Black Man and he asked her if she was interested in exchanging emails with him.
Eventually, Michael wrote me and stated that she did not reply. He asked me for
more details to help him get a response. I eagerly did as he asked, and I
waited. I did not hear back from Michael for about two weeks. His next response
would be a big wake up call for me.
Early one morning, I anxiously checked my email from my hotel room. My heart
pounded with anticipation when I saw a note from him. This could be good news. I
opened the email. What I read gave me chills. While Michael had learned a great
amount of personal information regarding me, my wife, what I asked him to do to
my white wife; I had absolutely no idea of who Michael really was or what his
background was. I did not know that much about computers and the internet. I did
not realize that on the internet he had access to and could use an anonymous
email account, remailers, and IP tracker while corresponding with me.
Although I had not provided him our last name telephone number, or home address,
I had relayed to him our first names, city we currently lived, where we had
lived, exactly what my wife looked like, her likes and dislikes, and other
information that could be used to piece together who my wife and I really are,
where we lived, and where we work. With the information I had provided him and
that he could easily find on his own, it was only a matter of him doing a bit
more work on the internet to uncover who we really are. I never saw this coming.
Michael’s email hit me like a sledgehammer, as the email addressed me by my full
real name and he also used my wife’s real full name in the email. Some of what
he wrote, “You asked me to sex and breed your prim and proper suburban white
wife. These are your words. I will use them against you. Deliver her to me while
you are still on your trip. Find a way or I will ruin your lives. I own you
both. You asked me to do this you white fool. I will teach a prejudice, white
man (you, your words fool) lessons in race relations. Write me back today, or I
will send all the emails we have exchanged to your wife, neighbors, and place of
I sat at the desk in my hotel room in a cold sweat. Strangely, while in a state
of shock and terror, I was also somewhat aroused. Michael certainly was in
control, much like I had fanaticized about. However, the arousal was
short-lived, as reality began to sink in. Michael, this Black Man, who had had
begged to sex my wife was in complete control of the situation. I was totally at
his mercy. He had done a lot of work gathering facts and setting me up.
Admittedly, I had made it far too easy for him to do so. He appeared deadly
serious, and I was not about to call his bluff.
I had few options available to me. Having my wife’s past exposed to our friends
and especially to my family would cause my wife extreme embarrassment and shame.
I could not afford any sort of scandal – real or not - at my new company. I did
not see ignoring Michaels’s threat as an option. Eventually, I determined that I
needed to call my wife and explain the situation to her. I knew that she would
be angry, hurt, and disappointed in me, but I believed that this option gave us
the most control in an out of control situation.
I called my wife and explained what I had done. She reacted as I expected. When
she regained her composure, she asked me what I thought we should do next. I
told her that she should answer Michael’s original email and tell him that she
would like to get to know him. At first, she resisted, but she could not offer
another solution. Both of us wanted to keep the past in the past, and this
seemed to be the only way to do this now that I had made a mess of our lives.
She agreed to answer him and to put me on the information line of the email.
I was later informed by my wife that Michael had replied to her the same day,
but that he took my email address off of the email. He told her that what they
discussed was none of my business and that she was not to include me in their
exchanges or conversations. He already had our unlisted phone number. He called
her after sending her the email reply. All I know for sure is that they spoke
for over an hour and that Michael made arrangements to travel to our town during
the upcoming weekend to meet my wife in person.
My wife was rightfully scared and nervous to meet him, but he had done his best
to put her at ease. She did not tell me much, but she wanted me to have a basic
idea of what was going on – for the purpose of her safety. They were going to
meet for dinner at a nearby Casino on an Indian Reservation. It is a nice place
that my wife enjoys. They would also be doing some dancing there. Previously, I
had told Michael that my wife enjoys dancing, but I never take her. I also told
her that she does not drink often but likes wine. He told my wife what he wanted
her to wear, exactly how to wear her long blonde hair for him, and he told her
to be sure to wear her wedding ring. My wife had three days to prepare and wait
for her “date” with Michael. That is all that I would learn about the events and
preparation for their future encounter.
I sat in my hotel room anxious beyond description. I was truly powerless. I
could do nothing to help my wife through this mess that my own selfishness had
created. She was justifiably furious with me – and very hurt by my
thoughtlessness and actions. I knew that there was nothing that I could say or
do to make the situation better. My wife, the woman I had loved for more than
two decades, was now at the mercy of a complete stranger. When I started down
this path which I perceived as “erotic,” I would have written that this
helplessness was “what I wanted.” However, now that I was actually experiencing
complete powerlessness and hearing my wife’s tears, shame, and the fear in her
voice – I was literally ill.
My wife called me on Saturday before she left the house. She was upset but doing
her best not to cry and make her make up run. I told her that I was very sorry
and that I loved her. She said that she knew that, but that she did not know if
she could ever forgive me for putting us in this situation. She told me that
Michael told her that she could keep her cell phone with her to give her a sense
of safety, but not to take any calls from me while they were together. With
those words, she hung up the phone. I sat alone in my hotel room and waited to
hear back from her.
Hours passed. I resisted the urge to call my wife, not wanting to make the
situation worse than it already was for her. My imagination ran wild thinking
about the things that Michael could be doing to my sweet, lovely wife. I felt
overwhelming regret for what I had do. As the clock passed midnight sleep was
out of the question. After what seemed like a lifetime, it was dawn: still no
phone call. I cold no longer resist. I called her number. There was no answer.
In a panic, I was now beginning making plans to get back home to check on her.
As I did so, I received a text message which read: “Do not worry. I am alright.
I will call you tomorrow.”
I questioned to myself the authenticity of the text message, but what could I
really do? Call the police and tell them what was going on? I had no evidence
that my wife did not send the message herself or that she was being harmed. The
reality of the situation was that any risk she faced was completely of my doing.
I spend another day of torture in my hotel room alone – waiting. By this point,
I could not help myself from calling her number with increasing frequency, but
to no avail. It would ring and go to her voice mail.
Late Sunday evening, I finally received a call from my wife’s cell phone. It was
a man’s voice. I can only assume the voice was Michael’s. He told me to not to
say a word and to listen. Concerned about my wife’s safety, I did as he ordered.
“You are a selfish fool white boy. You couldn’t be satisfied knowing that your
wife loved you and wanted to be faithful to you. You did not appreciate her
years of loyalty and devotion to you. You had to dwell on the past. Because of
your weakness and insecurity you placed her in a compromising position to bail
your sorry ass out. I hope that you are happy now. This is what you wanted.”
The phone went silent, but the connection was still good. I heard some unclear
sounds. After a few seconds I heard the man’s voice again. He said, “Open your
mouth bitch and suck my Black Cock.” I then heard sucking, slurping, and gagging
noises for the next 10 minutes. My heart pounded, and sank as I realized what my
wife was doing.
“That’s right slut, milk my Black Cock bitch,” the man said. “Suck it. Suck it
deep. Yeah, that’s right. Nice. You little white cocksucker. That’s right, take
it deep bitch.”
Next, I heard a bunch of thrashing noises followed by, “I’m ready now bitch.
I‘ve got a monster load to plant inside you. Get on your back bitch. Spread
those nice legs for me. Yeah, just like that. You want my Black Cock again don’t
you? I’m gonna bust my nut in you again bitch. You want it again don’t you? Tell
me what you want slut.”
For the first time in two days, I heard my sweet wife’s voice, “Please babe,
please I want your Black Cock so bad. Please, please give it to me again. Put it
inside me – please babe. You own my pussy. Let me feel it inside again. Ooooooh,
yeeeesssss. Like that babe! Give it to me! I love your Black Cock. I love it, I
love it. Push it babe! Ooooooh!”
The line abruptly went dead. I frantically called back. What I hoped to
accomplish by doing so, I don’t know for sure. Waiting all that time to hear
from my wife, worrying about her, and then hearing her sucking and fucking
Michael was confusing than could ever have imagined. Fantasizing and writing
about my wife screwing Black Men was one thing. Genuinely being concerned about
our future, her safety, and then hearing her having sex with Michael and begging
him for his Black Cock was not the experience that I believed it would be when I
started down this path.
I felt more ashamed of myself than I had ever been in my entire life. I
compromised my wife’s trust, our marriage, and our relationship. Whether or not
she was “enjoying” or “not really enjoying” the fucking that she was getting was
irrelevant. She was only there because I was weak. Michael made a great point
why could I not have just been happy with what I HAD, because, from this day
forward, things would be different.
My wife would never look at me the same loving, trusting way that she had for
the more than 20 years we had known each other. She would never again regard me
as her “protector” or as “her man.” In her eyes, I would now forever been a
weak-minded, insecure, white man who never truly believed in her and in our
relationship and our marriage. I will never forget the disappointment in me that
was in her eyes when next met -- weeks later when I returned from my business
trip. I let her down, and I will have to live with that the rest of my life.
As for her and Michael, beyond that phone call, I have never seen of heard them
together again. I have no idea how many times he fucked her while I was away, or
since I have been back in town. When I finally came home, she told me, “what is
done is done” and that I would not have to worry about my precious “reputation”
or concern about what my family and friends might think about her past. She made
her position perfectly clear: I created this situation and will have to live
with it. When and what she does with Michael or anyone else is none of my
business, and she will not discuss it any further with me.
After this experience what have I gained? I am left with the same wild
imagination and thoughts that I had before about my wife, but I no longer have
my wife in my life. Last month, she filed for divorce. I am not contesting it,
and I am giving her everything that she is asking for. Michael has given her all
of my emails that I sent to him asking him to sex and even breed my wife. There
is no way that I want those entered into the public record during our divorce
I will share a coupe more facts with you: I have not had any intimate or sexual
contact with my soon-to-be former wife since her first encounter with Michael;
on her right ankle, she now wears a gold ankle bracelet with a small spade on
it; and after her weekend with Michael I have no definite proof if she is still
seeing him or perhaps other Black Men now. She does not share those details with
me. So much for the “erotic” experience that I sought. Again, what have I gained
besides loosing the one that I loved?
Still want your wife to go Black?
Pages : 1 | All Interracial Stories