'Black Marks 2' - Chapters 3 & 4

Chapter 3

WES

On Tuesday back on the site at the edge of the industrial park, I don’t know where the fantasy goes from here. The rain pours down again and matches my mood. The dark but thrilling thoughts that heated me for so long now feel like they’ve been put to death. Suffocated by the choke of vanilla reality.

I should never have handled things the way I did last night with Amelia. I shouldn’t have dumped everything on her out of the blue and told her exactly what Sterling said. If there was ever any chance of something happening between him and my wife then it’s gone now.

I sigh and stare out at the weather. I could have just let the two women get together tonight at the book club. Heard what came out of that before I told Amelia anything.

But I couldn’t wait, could I?

Sure, Sterling was never the kind of guy I’d previously imagined my wife involved with - or even just flirting with a little - but there were so many indications that something could have happened between them. If handled properly. More than with any other guy we’ve known since we got married. I mean, she admitted she thought he was an ‘attractive older man’. He thought Amelia was hot, and even his fucking wife was encouraging the pair of them!

I feel sick. What a fuck up. I’ve well and truly blown the best chance I’ll ever have.

An SUV pulls up and I serve the driver with a double shot cappuccino and a chai latte then write a line or two about him in my notebook. And then, a little before lunchtime when I’m transferring my morning notes onto the spreadsheet in my laptop and the rain outside has finally stopped, an Audi pulls up. I don’t pay attention to who gets out until he speaks.

“What do you recommend then Wes?” a deep voice asks and when I peer out at him through the window above the counter, Sterling Marks grins at me.

What the..?

My chest tightens but I smile back at his large frame in an overcoat and I close my laptop.

“Sterling,” I say and will my face not to redden, “What are you doing out here?”

“I was on my way back from a DEI meeting,” he says, “Driving along the freeway minding my own business when saw the sign for the park over there. The name rang a bell, and then I remembered why. My neighbor runs his business from here,” he grins again.

“Right,” I nod but for some reason feel embarrassed too at having no customers when he’s here.

“So do I get a look around the premises?” his eyes gesture beyond me to the inside of the truck. And standing there in front of me in his long coat I’m forcibly reminded again of what a big guy he is.

“If you really want to,” I shrug, “there’s not a whole lot of room for two people to move around though.”

Especially when one of them is your size.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head and checks his wristwatch, “I can’t stay too long. It would be interesting to see it though. And sample one of your brews.”

I wipe my hands on the front of my apron and stand. I unlock the door at the side of the trailer and then move back so he can squeeze inside with me.

Unlike me, Sterling has to lower his shoulders a little to avoid his head hitting the chrome ceiling.

“I only brought one seat with me today,” I say and move down the trailer to the far end to give him more space, “I only bring the other one when Amelia comes.”

“How is young Mrs Fairchild?”

“She’s good yeah, thanks,” I nod but the mention of her name between us flusters me.

Outside, a yellow wagon pulls up and the driver gets out. The arrival of someone who wants my coffee comes as a relief.

“Here, you want to sit down?” I say to Sterling, “While I serve the guy.”

“Sure,” Sterling drags the foldaway seat out of the way, down the trailer, and sits.

“Hey,” I smile at a bearded dude in a hoodie but I’m conscious of Sterling watching me.

“Can I get an Americana with two sugars and a couple of apple Danish?”

I serve him but don’t make a note about him after he’s gone. Instead I lean back against the worktop at the other end of the truck and face Sterling.

“Vanessa says Amelia pulled out of their book club outing tonight,” he says it like a question and eyes me.

“Yeah, I think so,” I say but don’t elaborate. I’m not sure what reason my wife gave when she messaged Vanessa.

“I hope it’s not because of my behavior or reactions the other weekend?” he says.

“No, no,” I shake my head, a bit disarmed by his apologetic manner.

“I can be blunt sometimes,” he shrugs, “Vanessa always says I should soften my pragmatism. Try to be more than merely analytical with others when I communicate.”

I’m not sure what he means.

“Look, can I get you a coffee?” I ask, resorting to more familiar ‘ground’ in this weirdly unfamiliar situation. I’m in my workspace, but so close to a middle-aged black guy who openly admitted how much he’d love sex with my wife.

He offered to ‘train’ her.

“Espresso would be perfect,” he smiles, “You don’t do a Ristretto by any chance, do you?”

“Ah,” I smile at his knowledge. “Never been asked for one before, but sure. I can put less water in. Give it that sweeter more concentrated flavor.”

Sterling grins at me.

“I was hoping the four of us might get together again at the weekend,” he says while I prepare his drink.

He expects to carry on where we left off? Just like that?

“We might benefit from a ‘clear the air discussion’,” he says, “Vanessa and I are concerned that you were both a little taken aback by events at ours that evening.”

“I guess some parts of it were just a surprise,” I say over my left shoulder.

“Can I ask specifically which parts, Wes?” he eyes me.

“Well, for one, seeing my wife dressed that way,” I say and pour his drink.

And when she sat on your knee.

“I rather enjoyed the sight,” Sterling says.

“I bet,” I say and look right back at him. I hand him his drink and then he offers me cash which I refuse.

“Did what I said to you,” he asks slowly with his drink in one hand, “when you and I were alone, did that surprise you as well?”

“Yeah,” I shrug but don’t know what else to say. I lean back red-faced with my now cold cappuccino. What do you say in a situation like this?

But I don’t want to appear too uptight in front of the guy. “It’s not every day someone comes right out with it and says stuff like that about your wife.”

“I’m sure a lot of other men must find Amelia irresistible,” he says and sips his drink. “The coffee is delicious too by the way Wes,” he holds up the little paper cup.

“Other men might think the same thing about her,” I say and my groin tingles as I discuss my wife this way with another man, “But none of them ever told me like you did. Or made the suggestions you did.”

“My bluntness again,” he shrugs.

“I mean, I didn’t mind hearing it,” I say and feel my face heat up even more.

“What about Amelia?” Sterling reaches to the side and puts his cup down on the chrome countertop, “Did you tell her about the conversation you and I had?”

“Only last night,” I say.

“You waited that long?”

“I was trying to…trying to figure out whether or not to tell her. What to say,” I shrug. I don’t want to make it obvious just how much I’ve obsessed about that night at their house.

“Do you think that’s why she canceled book club with Vanessa tonight?”

“Possibly,” I say and my stomach balls, “I mean, I told her everything. About Vanessa’s cuckquean thing too.”

“She wasn’t aware of that?”

“She said not.”

“Well look, we’d like to invite you both to ours again this weekend. Friday or Saturday. Whichever night suits you best. Hopefully, we can clear up any concerns. And get things back to normal between the girls too. My wife’s worried she’s losing a friend,” he reaches for his drink again and drains the remains.

I think I’ve just about rationalized Amelia’s liking for spending time with an older woman like Vanessa - given my wife’s estrangement from her own Mom. But it still seems odd to me somehow that Vanessa would think so much of my wife.

And anyway, I don’t even know if Amelia would agree to go to theirs again.

But I do need to ask Sterling something. My heart thumps in my shirt.

“You know that conversation you and I had that night?” I ask him and take another sip of my drink to wet the inside of my mouth.

Sterling nods his head.

“What did you mean when you said something about ‘training’?”

“Training Amelia?” he shows me a slow smile.

I nod and my cock shifts in my pants.

“What did you think I meant?”

“I wasn’t sure,” I mumble, my face probably scarlet, “I was guessing you meant something to do with your S&M interest.”

“Her interest too, I believe?” his eyebrows arch.

“Maybe,” I nod and my mouth has dried right up.

“I was merely thinking that if your wife is a little anxious about exploring that side of herself, and potentially fulfilling your fantasies and everyone else’s in the process, then it could be a good approach.”

“How do you mean?” I croak.

“Don’t think my Vanessa was any less hesitant about opening up to her submissive side when she and I first talked about it,” Sterling shrugs, “Years ago. She had to be encouraged and developed too. But if it’s something you’d like to witness Wes - and personally I’m sure it could help to achieve your lead fantasy - then there are several entry-level submissive activities I could initially guide Amelia through. With Vanessa alongside her to increase your wife’s comfort level and provide additional reassurance.”

Holy crap.

A lime green Renault pulls up and a couple get out. I serve the pair of them with my hands shaking like I’m an alcoholic.

The female customer pulls her knitted cardigan tighter around herself and smiles sympathetically at me.

“What kind of ‘entry-level’ activities?” I ask Sterling when we’re alone again. But even as I do, I know the notion that my Amelia might agree to whatever he suggests is ‘fanciful’ at best.

“Non-sexual, of course,” he says and accepts the offer of a top-up for his drink.

“Non…?” I repeat part of the phrase he used.

“At least at the outset,” he says.

I peer at him from the coffee machine.

“The same initial activities I introduced Vanessa to,” he shrugs, “and which gradually, over a little time, drew out and developed her latent inner submissive.”

“Right,” I nod like I understand. My heart pounds and my cock thickens at the mere thought that this guy has even considered such ‘development’ for my Amelia.

“And in the case of your wife, if you wanted it Wes, we could design the activities to ultimately open her up to service her Master sexually.”

Fuck me. I think I nod my head.

“So for example, we might start by introducing her to public displays of being under control,” he says.

I’m barely listening anymore.

Sexually servicing her 'Master’. That last word means him.

“What would ‘displays’ involve?” my dick is hard in my pants and I hide it with a hand.

“It could be similar to a little basic fashion show, but in one of our homes. Amelia would model different outfits chosen by myself or even by Vanessa. You’d watch as your wife was directed to pose under Vanessa’s guidance.”

It’s hot, but there’s no way Amelia would agree to anything like it.

“We would work on developing her understanding and eventually her enjoyment of what it means to be showcased on the say-so of a Master.”

I’m sure Vanessa referred to him as ‘Master’ when she and Amelia were handing out drinks and wearing those maid’s outfits.

Sterling crosses his legs the other way on my chair and reveals a length of long, check sock below the black flesh of his calf.

I serve another wagon driver before my neighbor carries on where he left off.

“Then we could progress Amelia to trust exercises,” he says.

How can I lean here against my own counter top let an old black guy describe his weirdo fantasies about my wife?

“Trust?” I grab my cup and hold it in front of my face.

“Nothing too onerous,” he shrugs and smiles at me, his top leg swings on the one beneath in the confined space of the trailer interior, “Again, something we’d do in our home or yours. We create a controlled environment. Perhaps an obstacle course before Amelia is blindfolded. It worked well with Vanessa back in the day.”

He’s living in a fucking dream.

“The blindfold symbolizes her vulnerability and reliance on others for instruction. We have her navigate the course under Vanessa’s direction. Or mine. All while you observe her ordeal. It can be extremely erotic, Wes.”

Is the guy serious? March my fucking wife around an ‘obstacle course’ in his house while she’s blindfolded?

But I want to know more about the ‘sexual’ side of what he thinks he can achieve.

“How does that..how does any of that lead to...sexual activity?” I falter with the words.

“You’d be surprised how excited a submissive will get in such situations,” Sterling grins at me. “Particularly if there are others present who she trusts and who encourage and reassure her. But let’s all have our clear-the-air discussion first Wes,” Sterling rises. “I’ll lead that but until then, I’d recommend you don’t talk Amelia through all these details you and I just discussed. Not yet anyhow.”

I arrive home a little after seven o’clock with Sterling Marks’ manic words still echoing in my head.

I must have looked as shocked as I felt before he left because he apologized again. He said he was prone to getting ‘swept up’ in his desires. Especially when fantasizing about Amelia.

I was shaking when he said that. Then after, when I was alone again, I jacked off around the back of the trailer. Twice.

On our driveway in the dark, I turn the SUV engine off and peer at our little bungalow. The living room light and the one in the bedroom are both on. What would Amelia say if she knew how she’d been discussed today?

I get out, lock the car, and head to the front door. There’s no way I’m telling her everything Sterling said this time. She’d totally freak out.

“Hey Ames,” I call out as I walk in through the front door. I’ll tell her he came by the truck today, but just that he was apologetic. And that he suggested a ‘clear the air’ get-together. There’s a hell of a lot for me to think about after hearing what he said.

But I do want her to agree to go to theirs at the weekend. This is still potentially too good an opportunity to waste.

Amelia is at the stove in jeans and I hug her slender waist from behind. Her warm butt is firm but spongy against my groin.

Sterling imagines my wife parading around for him in different outfits. I bet he means lingerie.

“You’ll never guess who called by for coffee at the site this lunchtime,” I say and kiss the back of her neck.

“I bet I can,” she says over her shoulder.

“Who?” I peer at her.

“Sterling,” she says and turns back to the stove.

“Have you seen him too?” My stomach balls again.

Did he come round here when he got back home? Why didn’t he tell me he was planning to do that?

”No,” Amelia shakes her head and stirs the garlicky sauce in the pan, “Vanessa came over when she got back from work. She asked me if everything was OK. She tried to get me to go to the club tonight. She told me he’d been to see you.”

“You still didn’t want to go with her tonight?”

“I need to get my head straight,” she shakes that head of strawberry-blonde hair.

“Right,” I peer down at her pert, jutting behind in the denim. “Did she say anything else?”

“Well, she invited us to theirs again at the weekend,” Now Amelia does turn to me and she wipes her hands on a tea towel. “So the four of us can have a heart-to-heart.” She simulates inverted commas with her fingers for those last three words. “But I’m assuming you already know that.”

Vanessa and Sterling are working on both of us together.

“Yeah, Sterling mentioned it,” I say and kiss her forehead. “What do you think?” I ask, to gage her feelings, in case I need to try and persuade her.

“At first I didn’t know how we could,” she sighs and then looks up into my eyes, “Not after the last time. But she was upset and obviously worried that I was pissed about what happened. And then after she left, and I thought more about it, and about what she’d said, I thought maybe we should go. I mean, I love Vanessa, and nothing that bad happened there, did it? Maybe we overreacted.”

I could probably kill this off right now if I wanted.

But why would I? This is the sort of situation you dream of. How many times are Amelia and I ever going to run into a couple like the Marks?

“Yeah,” I nod and hold her shoulders, my cock thickens in my pants, “I was thinking the same. We just go and hear what they have to say,” I shrug, “I’m sure we probably did overreact.”

Chapter 4

WES

Later in bed, Amelia is in a little t-shirt that’s almost the same shade of blue as her eyes. She flicks at her Kindle in the lamplight. I lay alongside her in only my shorts and I brood.

She might have put all thought of this coming weekend out of her mind, but after everything Sterling said to me, how the hell can I?

I replay his words and visualize my wife parading outfits for the old black man and his ‘cuckquean’ wife.

My dick stiffens rock hard but I’m not stupid. I know my Amelia would never do anything like that. Even with me there to provide the ‘reassurance’ Sterling talked about.

Whose wife would do that for another man?

I push a hand down under the top sheet and squeeze my dick through my shorts.

And even if Sterling believes he could get my Amelia to strut around in clothes he chooses and then somehow develop that into him getting his hands on her, he’s deluding himself. I mean, yes, she’s admitted in bed that she he’s good-looking, but with a wife like mine, even a confession like that from her is a million miles away from anything sexual with another guy.

But he said I’d be surprised by how turned on those kinds of games can make a ‘submissive’. And if that’s what Amelia is on some level...

Plus, maybe he has experience doing this kind of thing with other women besides Vanessa? Maybe he’s ‘trained’ others? My cock throbs in my hand. I need to ask him and find that out.

It’s devious and underhand I know, but if Vanessa is working on Amelia from one direction, and if maybe Sterling guides me to do the same from another, to convince Amelia, then who knows? Wouldn’t that multiply my chances of making Amelia more open?

But to what? How far would I ideally want my wife to go with a man like Sterling? I don’t really even like the guy that much.

My dick throbs though and I peer at Amelia alongside me as her slender index finger taps the device to turn to another page.

“What are you reading?”

“Chekov,” she says.

Isn’t that the boring Russian writer they were studying at the book club? Does that mean she plans on going back there?

“I thought you’d given up on the club?”

“I didn’t say I’d given up,” she shrugs her shoulders and her pert boobs shift under her blue t-shirt, “I just needed time out tonight.”

“Right.”

So what does that mean? The friendship with Vanessa is back on?

I repeat my earlier inner question about Sterling. How far would I want her to go with him? Say, he somehow managed to get her to parade around that way he talked about. Then what?

Then maybe he has further steps in the seduction process which he hasn’t told me about.

But even if he doesn’t, and he’s making this shit up as he goes along, then just her dressing up sexy again in front of him would be as hot as hell, wouldn’t it? Look how many times I jacked off after seeing her in that Maid’s outfit, and on his lap the last time. What could I imagine her in a second time?

Amelia puts her Kindle away and reaches for her lamp.

I leave it a moment and then wrap an arm around her.

Imagine if I did tell her everything that Sterling said to me and she got excited.

Except she wouldn’t. She’d panic for sure. And she’d probably avoid him and Vanessa for good. Besides, he recommended I say nothing about our conversation. Not yet anyhow. He can’t be as big a novice at this as me.

And why would he be? If his wife gets off on the whole thing too, then why wouldn’t he have had other lovers?

I squeeze Amelia’s warm body to me and she snuggles right in. I kiss her and her mouth responds to mine. I lean up then ease her t-shirt up her pale body and kiss both her tits. I imagine I’m Sterling. Amelia’s pretty pink nipples drawn between the lips of his black mouth.

“Mmm,” she murmurs.

I suck her left nipple hard and her fingers fondle the hair on the back of my head.

“That’s nice Wes,” she moans.

The nipple hardens between my lips and I suck it harder, until she cries out.

Hell, I got carried away.

“Sorry,” I say and kiss her lips. I’m rock hard and everything I heard today froths inside me.

“Mmm, no, it was a nice pain,” she says.

“Pain can be ‘nice’?” I smile at her, but her eyes are closed.

“Mmm, sometimes.”

“Maybe you should have let Sterling put you over his knee like he suggested that night,” the words bubble out before I can stop myself.

Why did I say that?

Amelia’s eyes don’t open but she smiles and her hand rubs the front of my shorts.

She’s smiling.

“He told me again today how hot he thinks you are,” I say, encouraged by her reaction.

“Wes, don’t,” she murmurs but she gropes at my shorts and my hard cock inside.

Is she turned on by what I’ve said?

“Why not?” I ask and reach down her between her legs. My fingertips trace the lips of her hole.

“He’s Vanessa’s husband,” she whispers but grips my cock.

“Yeah but she doesn’t mind, does she?”

“Mmm, she was so upset when she came to see me,” she strokes me slowly.

I don’t want her worried about her friend’s emotions. I want her focused on pleasure. I ease two fingers into her.

She’s wet.

“Uhhmmm,” she murmurs and strokes me, “Vanessa said he’s insatiable.”

“Sterling?”

Her eyes are still closed but she nods.

“What did she say?” I suck one of her tits again. I bet he’d be insatiable for this. I touch her clit and she gasps.

“Mmm, I think he gets too much for her sometimes,” Amelia moans.

Maybe you should help your friend out. I pull my cock from her hand.

Amelia spreads her thighs a little wider and I lean over her and ease my cock to her hole.

“Oooh,” she pulls me to her.

I push in hard and feel my cock cocooned by her wet heat.

“Could you feel he had a hard-on when you were on his lap Ames?” the words spill out again and I shove in hard then out and back in, grip her bare hips with both hands and suck her left then right tit.

“Uhh, Wes, don’t.”

“So did he have a hard-on under you, Ames?” I repeat.

One of her arms leaves my back where she’s holding onto me and she holds her warm palm lightly over my mouth to silence me. It rocks over my face as we fuck.

I’m too close to care now though. I grip both her hips so tight and then work my face free and bury it in one side of her neck. I smack into her. My head filled with terrible cascading images. My slender wife parading in heels and revealing clothes for an older black man. In a mini skirt I buy her especially to show her legs to him. Oh, Ames. In a swimsuit. Oh, hell. With the heels. In her underwear with heels. Images of Amelia on his lap in her underwear reaching down to his pants. But it’s too much to bear. I cum hard and cling to my wife.

Afterward, as I lay there breathing hard and trying to recover, guilt and shame form big lumps in the pit of my gut. Their ‘infection’ spreads to my heart as I try to interpret Amelia’s reaction just minutes ago.

Was she turned on about him and what I told her? Has she felt that way about Sterling all along, but known at the same time that her feelings were wrong, so tried to suppress them?

Angsty though I still am, my cock already twitches again.

Maybe before though, Amelia was just humoring me and indulging my fantasy.

It wasn’t that long ago that Vanessa explained to my wife how one partner’s frustrated fantasies can often cause big problems in any relationship. Maybe seeing her friend again today reminded Amelia of that.

So what exactly did Vanessa say to her, besides the fact that she’s seemingly struggling with her own husband’s demands?

And what if the thought of Sterling’s ‘insatiability’ excites my wife?

“So we’ll go to theirs at the weekend then?” I turn to Amelia in the darkness.

“For Vanessa’s sake if nothing else,” Amelia says softly.

Author's Notes

Do you think Wes is right, that Sterling's plan is balf-baked and so doomed to failure? Or is there more to Amelia than meets the eye? Can the young couple's black neighbors really seduce Amelia into their lifestyle and give Wes what he's always wanted? And who says he (or Amelia) could even handle what the Marks pair might have in mind?

It would be great to read your thoughts in the comments section below.

Next week, in 'Lanie Comes Of Age', there's a huge turn of events for McKenzie's cab driver Dad, Trevor.

© 2024 Tinto Selvaggio. All rights reserved.

 All characters portrayed in this ebook are consenting adults eighteen years of age or older. As a work of fiction, any similarities to any situations or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.