Classy Slut Maria

My wife loves hard sex. Quite a surprise when you appreciate how Maria was brought up to be such a lady. She has certainly changed a lot these past few years and prefers a stiff, brisk pounding to anything else. Particularly at the hands of a strong black man. At 35, she is a stunning woman. After having our daughter Lucy, she kept a wonderful figure and I’ve always been attracted to her upmarket, stylish looks. So lost in many of today’s women. Maria’s crisp, intelligent face, flirtatious ways and wicked beauty have made her quite the showpiece. Though perhaps not in the way her wealthy family had intended.

We have lived in the English countryside for a number of years. Enjoying a quietly luxurious lifestyle. I came to Britain in the late 60’s when marrying into rich Northern roots was considered extremely fortunate. They are so especially proud of their family heritage over here. My own kin had made their money in Alaska and had sent me to Britain to make something of myself. With a good name behind me I was soon being noticed. Maria was 22 at the time and though I worked in London she was well known to my circle of friends for her good looks, her rich father and her rather lavish shopping sprees. As her parent’s firm favourite, Maria was raised with expensive tastes. She was a real prize and she knew it. To this day she still enjoys dinner parties and theatre, as well as occasional days spent at the races. Not to mention any kind of social event where she can be sure of being the centre of attention. 

Taking my wife’s notorious high standards into account, it was with great delight when after 11 years of marriage I finally watched her having ‘interracial’ sex for the very first time. Back then; it was something of a scandal to see any kind of mixed relationship. Especially for someone of shall we say, higher standing. Let me just add that in those days you’d wouldn’t expect to see a white woman pushing a black baby along in a pram. Though there were many reasons that eventually convinced my wife to try something new and daring. After all, she had her family’s fine reputation to think of, as well as her own recognised standing in the local community. After all that Banba gave Maria much more than just the rampant fucking a woman like her she so richly deserves. He drilled her hard and long with his big, black cock and since then, he certainly hasn’t been the last. 

I’d known Banba since I first came to England. He had been one of several African men to bring his wife and family over due to the chronic labour shortage of the time. At well over six feet tall he was a striking, handsome figure and I could understand why so many women where tempted toward him. Perhaps it was because he seemed too exotic or maybe the rumour that black men where so well endowed. Though he was merely a labourer at one of our factories, there was something in his rough, unruly style I liked. Perhaps in the way he would boast about his female conquests. He didn’t care for authority either and I found it compelling how he was so often in petty trouble with both the local police and foremen alike. 

Maria and I had been courting several months. She loved shopping in London and would occasionally call on her way into town. At 22, with permed, dark hair and big tits she caught the eye of many of the workers. A group of them would often collect and watch from the yard. Maria had often secretly confided that she found shouldering her responsibilities difficult at times. Particularly in her youth. She would have loved she said, to be have been allowed to break free once in a while and ‘let herself go’. As such, she would enjoy the whistles and calls as she parked her car and strolled up the stairs in a tight, short skirt. I would never miss this regular occurrence from my window. Banba was among the group. From those first days it had excited me greatly to imagine an African man screwing a white, English woman. Maybe it goes back to the colonial days when the British had raped the native land so. Though he seemed cautious of me at first, we became friendly. He saw me as a way of getting closer to my wife and soon grew to making demands. Asking for photographs and even underwear, which I could provide. When Maria and I where married it became even simpler to grant him those requests and when he moved away we still kept in touch. 

In more recent times, say two years ago, Maria and I were at the point where we were filming ourselves having sex. There seemed to be a new wave of freedom sweeping the England and even Maria wanted to be a part of it. Much to my pleasure, she seemed to be taking more and more to our bedroom antics. Since turning 34, Maria knew full well that her best years where slipping away. The dinner parties and chance to play hostess had been drying up in recent months. So too had our social calendar. Due to work I’d been showing her far less attention than she was used too. Leaving her at home with our daughter Lucy for most of the day. I suppose she remained extremely confident of herself, if ill at ease with her increasingly diminishing lifestyle. 
We had talked about bringing another man into our bedroom. She was surprisingly serious and keen on the idea from the very beginning. Perhaps hoping to remind herself of her plentiful appeal as well as to give a welcome injection to our own sex life. To take advantage of her wonderful body while she still could. She suggested we could have one of my wealthy work colleagues over for dinner. Then put the proposition to him during the meal. That she reasoned would be the most discreet way. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. When I looked at my wife all I could think of was my old friend Banba. Eventually I told her about him, his promiscuous background and promise of a 9” cock. She had been immediately shocked. Frankly she was appalled by my remarks. A woman like Maria didn’t just sleep with anyone. Especially not a coloured man. Then, with an almost cruel smile, she had turned to me and said ‘You’d like to see that would you?’ 

I contacted Banba in obvious good spirits. Years on he was settled into his new country now, fulfilling an impoverished family lifestyle. Still, he seemed his usual boastful self. His accent had come along and he was proud of himself and what he had achieved. He would be even more proud of himself soon and was happy to hear from me. I was pleased his taste for white women was as strong as ever. Particularly for my wife. Having not heard from me for several years he was intrigued to know about what had become of us. He knew nothing of my wife’s increasingly secretive yet perverse feelings towards meeting him. Adding that he would appreciate a recent photograph of her. Hardly able to contain my excitement, I put the question. Indeed, Banba nearly fell over himself when I suggested bringing Maria to see him. 

We arranged to go down one weekend to meet Banba and his wife Sahri. I remember that it was raining all through the long drive South. I couldn’t distract my mind from what I was doing. Taking my wife to meet another man. A man who I knew had sexual relations with other women. Black and white alike. Their house was in a poor area. East Hampshire. A far cry from our own and I could see Maria having second thoughts as I drove the jag around to the front. She had been up and down all week as the meeting drew closer. Changing her mind back and forth. What if we where discovered? Despite playing down the visit as much as she could, she had taken an age to ready herself. Secretly priding her on looking her very best when meeting this unusual foreigner.

It was a cold, chilly day. Half the other houses on the street where boarded up and litter blew around openly in the street. For me it only seemed to add to the event. As we pulled up in the car we looked at each other. I was sure that I had been, until then, my wife’s only partner. A frustration she would rarely let me see. You can understand her need for satisfaction combined with an overriding, almost naïve curiosity. There was movement behind several curtains as neighbours peered out. Maria had on neatly fitting and stylish, cream blouse with a matching skirt that she had worn for her younger sisters wedding. It was above knee length and quite tight on her shapely figure. She was wearing just a little makeup too, but looked fantastic as ever. Especially with her dark hair tumbling onto her shoulders. Before we got out she put her hand on my arm and told me that she wasn’t promising anything.

I opened the broken gate for Maria and followed her up the path. Banba was going to love this. My wife smelled of expensive perfume and looked sexy and mature as she strode confidently ahead of me. Sahri was at the door waiting for us. She was a pretty, fresh-faced black woman with short hair and a rounded figure. She wore a full length gown that wrapped around her forehead and had one of the two kids on her arm, jostling him as he began to cry. Sahri shook Maria’s hand warmly, keeping her eyes slightly averted to the ground as we followed her back into the cramped hallway. Children’s toys were scattered around the threadbare carpet. There was a strong smell of cigarettes too, forming a light haze in the hall air. Sahri welcomed us both to their home and hoped our journey had been pleasant. I wondered if she knew what our reason for being here was. Maybe not. My wife glanced back at me. I think we both wondered what kind of home Banba ran. I took my wife’s coat from her and hung it up on the stand. The outfit was smart but quite revealing, certainly exaggerating my wife’s breasts. With a knowing glance, Maria pushed open the door and stepped into the lounge. 

I can’t describe how excited I felt as I saw Banba sitting in the armchair. He had put on a smart blue jacket and trousers for the visit and his round eyes and face lit up with satisfaction as Maria walked in. It had been such a long time since I had last seen him. Banba was a big man due to all the heavy lifting he had done years before. I guessed he’d endured a difficult upbringing. Well built with a lazy look in his eyes. His skin was a dark shade of brown, dotted with marks on his cheeks. Heavy arms hanging in his lap. The muscles stretching firmly against the fabric of his jacket. He rose from his seat, standing his full 6,2 and took Maria’s delicate outstretched hand. His grin ran from ear to ear showing all his perfect white teeth as he peered generously down my wife’s lovely body. 

‘A pleasure to meet you’, Maria had said, already quite overwhelmed by the sheer size and power of the man in front of her. Banba nodded and motioned to a chair with his hand. He watched, licking his lips as Maria crossed the small room and took a seat on the large sofa. From the look on her face I could certainly see how Banba drew such success with women.
I listened to them talk as Sahri brought in tea. Maria was quiet but forward and polite. Just as she’d always been. Her hands rested on her knee, deliberately showing her cleavage, which Banba was very keen to feast his eyes upon. Sahri didn’t seem to notice anything. Certainly not her husband’s definite intentions as his own confidence grew. He only once referred to me, calling me ’Boss’ as he always did. Maria asked him purposely about his time at the factory and was openly hoping to explore his native background. Particularly hinting at the times he had watched and called to her form the work yard. It was clear that she liked this big man and was interested in him. His stare ran rhythmically between her face, legs and tits. Pure lust, lacking any manners. Already an erection was looming through his blue trousers.