Black Marks - Chapters 2 & 3

CHAPTER 2

Wes

After sex Sunday evening I expect Amelia to leave the bed straight away and to get in the shower like she was planning to before I interrupted her. But she doesn’t. She lays naked in my arms as outside, twilight turns to night.

“I know they’re just your fantasies Wes,” she says after a few minutes, “me with another guy. But I can’t help the way I feel.”

I peer at her alongside me. I move her strawberry-blonde hair away from her big, baby-blue eyes, and her long, fair eyelashes.

“I could never put our marriage at risk,” she looks right at me, “Even if there was someone I really liked. There could be any kind of complication. Misunderstandings, jealousy.”

“Jealousy doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing,” I smile and kiss her full on the lips.

Amelia rolls her eyes. “It’s easy to say that now,” she murmurs and one of her little feet rubs against my leg, “but another person would be bound to create a distance between you and me.”

“Why should it?” I say and to be honest, I’m excited we’re even having this conversation again after so long. Even if it’s hardly going the way I’d like it to. “It depends on what you did with them.”

“But if you felt threatened,” she says, “or like you were being replaced, just imagine the tension between me and you.”

“It’s such a hot thought though, Ames,” I kiss her again and feel my dick stiffen.

“Fantasies can get out of control,” she says but snuggles right into me.

“Why would you say that?” I lean up on one elbow and gaze right at her.

“Look at what happened with my ex when we started acting out his bondage thing,” she says.

“Mmm, I thought you liked that S&M stuff,” I smile and pull her into my arms. The thought of my wife with her ex stiffens my dick further.

“Some of it maybe,” she says and her cheeks turn pink. Her warm, bare body is tense in my arms, “but once I started letting him do what he wanted, acting it out, that was when he started cheating.”

“But that’s a good thing right?” I say, “Otherwise me and you wouldn’t be together.”

“You know what I mean Wes,” she sighs.

“Well, I’d never cheat on you,” I say, “Ever. I just want you to cheat on me.”

Amelia rolls her eyes again but then she laughs too.

“Tell me again about how he used to tie you up,” I say and suck on her tits.

Monday, I’m back in the coffee trailer at my usual weekday site on the edge of the industrial park. I’m tired again. I got here extra early so I could get around as many business premises as possible with the new fliers I’ve had made up to advertise my coffee. I need to attract more customers here. Regular ones.

Trade all day turns out pretty much in line with what I’ve experienced so far since I bought the spot. But it's not enough. And committing to the place for six months is another thing I might have rushed into. But regular sites don’t come up that often and I needed something to rely on. I need to sell at least $85 a day’s worth of drinks and food just to cover the daily cost of the site. Before factoring in the expense of the drinks, snacks, and anything for my labor.

I can’t afford to invest in PPC ads for the business yet so I spend the quiet periods in between customers by taking photos of the trailer, writing social media posts, and uploading them. Ultimately I need to build the Monday to Friday trade up to a level that means I won’t have to go out to events every weekend too. So I can spend some quality time with my wife. So I’m not so fucking tired all the time.

Amelia does come to weekend events with me sometimes. Or even in the week occasionally if her freelance copywriting workload is light enough. But at the moment she’s writing an ‘epic fantasy novel’ in her spare time and hoping to get published, so she doesn’t get much chance to come with me.

For a moment, I imagine Ames here serving burly truck drivers or maybe sales reps from the businesses in the industrial park, all while dressed like the wife of that guy with the Mexican food trailer.

My dick shifts in my pants and I replay what she said last night about my fantasies and her ex.

On the drive home after dropping the truck off again I console myself about the business with the knowledge that at least I won’t have to make such an early start tomorrow. The fliers are all out, so hopefully trade will pick up as the week goes on.

Amelia is in the kitchen tending the stove in a pair of shorts. The table behind is already set for the pair of us.

“No admirer with you today Ames?” I ask and hug her from behind. I ease my groin against the warm crack of her butt and let it nestle there.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d be real happy coming home and finding me in the house with a big black man,” she says over her shoulder.

“Mmm, stop teasing me,” I say and rub my semi-erection against her cheeks.

She laughs and stirs whatever food is in the pan.

“Did you get much chance to work on the book in between assignments today?”

“A little,” she turns and kisses me, “I think I might have writer’s block though.”

“You’ve got to push through it,” I say as if I know. I hardly ever read fiction, never mind write it.

“This will be ready as soon as you are,” she gestures at the pan so I head for the bathroom to wash my hands.

“So guess who came to see me again today?” she says when we’re sat opposite one another at the table with plates of spaghetti in front of us. She’s got a goblet of red wine and I have a glass of beer.

“Theo, before he went back to uni?” I ask more in hope than expectation.

“Coco,” she says and laughs, “about an hour ago, when I went out to water the plants.”

For a second I don’t know who she means, but then I remember the wolfdog pup. “The dog?”

“With Theo’s Mom.”

“Ah,” I say and disappointment weighs heavy. There was me hoping the guy might have been impressed enough by my wife to come looking for her again.

Sometimes I want this so bad I lose all sense of reality.

“She was really nice,” Amelia says between mouthfuls, “She’s called Vanessa. She’s about about the same age as my Mom was.”

I watch Amelia’s eyes and mouth for any twitches of sadness at the mention of a mother who passed away only two years ago.

“She was walking past with Coco and we got talking because he remembered me,” Ames says and takes a sip of her wine, “He wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Sounds like Vanessa’s son yesterday,” I say and grin at her.

“Oh, Wes,” she groans and shakes her head. “Turns out Vanessa’s a big reader same as me,” she says, “she told me there’s a book club on at the community center every Tuesday. I didn’t even know it existed. It’s on tomorrow night. ”

“Book clubs aren’t your thing, are they?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “I’ve never been to one. But she asked me if I wanted to go along with her tomorrow. She doesn’t know anyone else around here yet. So I said I’d go.”

“Oh,” I say and try to decide whether it’s a little odd that a black woman probably twice my wife’s age would invite Amelia to some event when she’s only just met her.

Or if it’s merely someone new to the area being neighborly when they’ve just relocated. And, like she said, the woman doesn’t know any other people in the neighborhood yet.

“She saw something about it on the local Facebook page,” Amelia twists spaghetti around her fork, “Apparently everyone there meets to discuss the current chapter of whatever book they’re all reading. The only thing is, the subject matter at the moment sounds a bit embarrassing.”

“How come?” I stop chewing and peer across at my wife.

“I made a few inquiries after she told me about the club. The book they’re reading now is a bit smutty.”

“Smut?”

“Erotic romance,” Amelia shrugs. “Not really my thing. But I’d already said I’d go before I found out what the book was.”

“Well, you won’t be expected to offer an opinion on it, will you?” I say, more than a little excited at the prospect of my wife being in a room where dirty books are discussed.

Who knows how she might come home after that?

“I mean you won’t have read it, will you?” I say.

“No.”

“You and Vanessa might want to though when you hear about it,” I smile at her.

“Hmm,” she purses her lips and doesn’t seem convinced.

CHAPTER 3

Wes

On Tuesday, when I get back home after dropping the trailer off again, Amelia isn’t there. The Book club must have gone on a lot longer than she said it would. Or maybe she and Vanessa went for a drink after?

It doesn’t look like she did any prep for an evening meal before she left, so I put a green salad together and shove a garlic bread loaf in the oven. We’ll have it all with tuna when Amelia gets back.

Then, when I’m done, I leave it all in the fridge and go to the bathroom to shower. It’s been another long day.

As I soap and relax under the water flow, I let myself imagine Ames coming home excited after the discussion of some dirty book. I took a quick look at it on Amazon after she told me what the book was called. It’s one of those ‘Dark Romance’ stories with a ripped male torso on the cover. I didn’t bother with the ‘Look inside’ feature, but I doubt there’d be anything like wife-sharing in it. If nothing else though, hearing the details of a smutty book from a group of other women who are presumably enjoying reading it might open up Amelia’s thinking a little.

I’m probably clutching at straws, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.

I cup my balls in one hand and stroke under the shower with the other. With my eyes closed to avoid the water in my mouth, I replay a little of what she said after sex last night. Her worries about what could happen if we ever were to introduce some other guy into our relationship. Even those words turn me on. I stroke. But she said my jealousy and fear could destroy me and her. She said fantasies were what broke her and her ex up. Even if she did admit that he – unlike me - was a ‘selfish asshole’.

I change the picture in my head to Amelia with her wrists tied behind her back like she says her ex used to do to her. Imagine him spanking my wife. Oh, hell, yeah. But then her hands are free and I lock onto the final image of my Amelia jacking off some anonymous, faceless guy right here in front of me.

I cum fast up the shower wall.

But after I’ve detached the shower arm from the head to wash the mess down the wall and then down the plug hole with the swirling water flow, reality descends again.

If Amelia’s openness to my fantasies or her sex drive in general were ever going to get a makeover (by a dirty book or anything else), then surely that would have happened by now. She’s twenty-four.

I’m back in the kitchen area with a beer and on the phone to my old man when she finally returns. It’s gone 9 o’clock.

“OK, Pop, yeah. See you soon,” I say and hang up.

“Sorry I’m so late,” she says and shakes her head. She drops her shoulder bag down on the dining table and kisses the side of my face. Her breath smells of wine. She’s in a plain, navy blue cotton dress with a crew neck.

The dress is loose on her slim body but as she kicks off her flat sandals the fabric hints at the pronounced curves of her hips beneath. Then the outline of her pert butt and boobs.

My cock twitches.

“I was going to call the police,” I grin at her, “I thought you’d been abducted. The club was supposed to finish by 7-30, wasn’t it?”

“Vanessa invited me back to hers after,” she says, “I couldn’t get away.”

“You saw the chrome pyramid?”

Amelia nods and laughs.

“Have you had anything to eat?” I ask, “I was waiting for you.”

She hasn’t, so while she goes to the bathroom and to get changed, I take the garlic bread from the oven and sear the tuna.

“How was it anyway?” I ask when she’s back, dressed now in jeans and a loose shirt. I’m at the worktop, laying the food out on plates.

“It was good yeah,” Amelia nods and pulls out a chair at the dining table.

“Was it embarrassing, like you expected?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Not really. Vanessa made me laugh most of the time.”

“She’s good company, then? Like her son?”

“She’s really pretty,” Amelia says and ignores my teasing, “Her husband looks like an older version of Theo.”

“Her husband went too?”

“He was at the house when we got back there.”

I bring the plates across and can’t help but wonder what the middle-aged black guy thought of my pretty white wife while she was in his house.

“What’s he like?” I ask, “Pretty like his wife?!”

“He’s funny. Good-looking I guess,” she shrugs, “for an older guy.”

My heart beats faster. But I shake the obsession from my head. Daydreams like those show just how detached from reality I get these days. I grab my beer and take that across to the table too.

“Vanessa’s a couple’s therapist,” Amelia says and pulls a chunk of garlic bread from the loaf.

“Poking her nose into other people’s sex lives?” I gaze across at my wife with the knife and fork in my hands. I laugh, but there’s something that’s unsettled me a little too about what she just said.

“Not everything’s about sex Wes,” Amelia shakes her head, “she helps people with their relationships.”

“Right,” I nod and dig into the food.

“What does he do? Vanessa’s husband.”

“He’s a University professor.”

“An academic,” I groan.

“He was nice too though,” she says.

“I take a mouthful of beer but then realize Amelia doesn’t have a drink. “Did you want wine?”

“It’s OK,” she waves me back down to my seat, “I had two at Vanessa’s.”

“Our new neighbors have been plying my wife with drink all night?” I raise my eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Er, two glasses of wine is hardly being ‘plied’ with drink, Wes. Not compared to the amount I drink trying to keep up with you every weekend.”

“I pout like her words hurt my feelings and she laughs.

“What does the guy teach at Uni?”

“Sterling? He’s a business lecturer.”

“Sterling? What kind of name is that?” I ask and laugh. But now that I know what the guy teaches, I can’t help but mentally file our new neighbor under the label of ‘Theorist’. Someone who tells others how to run a business but likely has little experience of his own.

At least Amelia’s Dad has a successful business to back him up through all those lectures he gave us about why she should follow his footsteps into the family firm. And why I shouldn’t start the trailer business.

Not that either of us took much notice.

“They said we should go for dinner at theirs one night,” Amelia cuts at her tuna.

Dinner with a couple twice our age?

Later, in bed, I try not to dwell on the prospect of an evening being lectured about business by some aging university professor and instead, before Amelia can open her Kindle, I put an arm around her. She’s just got a baggy t-shirt on.

“So what did everyone at the club think of the book they’re reading?” I ask.

“Some of the women seemed to like it,” she says and laughs.

“Were the others the same sort of age as Vanessa?” I can’t imagine many young females going to something as boring as a book club.

“They were all different ages. There was one who must have been in her twenties. I think I’ve seen her out jogging near the park a couple of times. Some of the others looked older than Vanessa.”

“So what exactly was the book about?” I kiss under her ear.

“Mmm,” she murmurs, “an alpha male with a younger woman.”

“And all the women liked reading that?”

“They seemed to,” Amelia kisses me back.

“What about you? Did you like the sound of it?”

“I don’t know,” she says and her eyes close.

“And the sex therapist? Did she like what she heard?”

“Mmm, she’s not a sex therapist,” the inside of one of Amelia’s legs moves against my thigh and my dick stiffens.

I kiss her throat and feel the front of her t-shirt where her nipples are hardened. I ease the cotton up her chest and then suck her there.

“Uhh,” she murmurs and her leg rubs more urgently against my side.

I ease a hand down toward her thighs and push two fingers into her.

She gasps and her fingers tighten in the hair at the back of my head as I suck her nipple.

She’s wetter than usual between her legs.

Did the book excite her? Or was it maybe just talking about sex at the club?

“So what did the heroine do with the alpha male?” I whisper in her ear. My fingertips stroke the hard nub of her clit.

“This,” Amelia reaches for my hard-on.

“Uhh yeah,” I moan, “And was she married to someone else?” I ask, but I know what her answer will be.

“Nuh-huh,” Ames smiles and shakes her head. Her eyes remain closed and her fingers tighten around my cock.

“Pity. Uhh, that feels good Ames,” I groan and thrust my fingers deeper inside her.

She strokes me, her rhythm gaining speed.

I can’t wait any longer. I lean over her and she lets go of my cock. I grip it and ease her thighs apart with my knee. I push my hard-on down into her hot pussy.

“Uhhm,” she moans and her legs rise and close around my back.

I nestle my face between one of her shoulders and her neck and I grip the sides of her firm, pale hips as I slick and grind into her. In my head, I’m an alpha male she just met. Someone who wasn’t content with a mere hand-job from my wife. A guy who insisted on being inside her.

I won’t last long.

But Amelia cries out first. Her beautiful face contorted, her legs squeezing my sides so hard as she gasps in my face, cumming way faster than she ever does. So fast that it takes me by surprise and it interrupts my concentration.

It takes me a moment or two to refocus but then when I have, I finish seconds later.

After the sex, we lay in the silence together in the lamplight. I’m wondering whether there’s any connection between that book at the club and Amelia being more excited than I’ve seen her in a long while.

Maybe I should order the book for her.

I peer at her and then kiss the near side of her face.

“Being with Vanessa and her husband tonight reminded me of when I was at high school,” she says and snuggles closer under my arm.

“How come?”

“There was a black boy I got friendly with for a while,” her voice thickens like her mouth is dry.

“You never told me you had a black boyfriend,” I lean up on an elbow and stare at her.

She only ever mentioned one serious ex. Has she had sex with a black guy and never told me? She wouldn’t.

My chest feels like it’s being tugged from the left and the right, but even so, my groin flutters too.

“He was called Raldes,” Amelia doesn’t look at me.

“You went out with him?”

“He asked me to.”

“But you didn’t go?”

“I would have,” she says, “But I made the mistake of mentioning him to my Mom. Then Dad had a sit-down conversation with me. He said he could never approve of an interracial…”

“I didn’t know you liked black guys in that way,” I say and my heart thuds fast.

“I liked Raldes at the time,” she shrugs.

“So what happened?” I ask but the thought of the teenage version of my pretty blonde wife heartbroken because of a ‘forbidden’, unconsummated ‘love’ for some guy I never even knew existed has my dick hard again.

“At the time I was upset,” she shrugs and gazes up at the ceiling, “But my Dad’s generation,” she says, “and where he grew up, it was all mainly white people.”

“How come you never said anything about this to me before?”

“It was a long time ago. It never seemed important. And I never much thought about it until tonight.”

“Right,” I want to ask if anything happened between her and this ‘Raldes’ guy. Even though they never officially ‘dated’. Even though she’s always said she only had one other lover before me.

“It would never have worked out with him anyhow,” she says, “His parents felt the same way about him dating a white girl.”

“Am I a pervert if I say this is hot to hear about Ames?” I say even though the knowledge of another man in her ‘history’ makes me somehow as queasy as it does horny. I show her my hard-on.

“Probably,” she says.

“So how come tonight with Vanessa and Sterling reminded you of the boyfriend you never had?” I kiss around her ear again.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Obviously Raldes wasn’t as old as Sterling,” she says and laughs, “But he was older than me.”

Vanessa’s husband reminds her of some guy she knew at high school? How? Did Sterling’s son Theo do the same when he was out walking his dog the other day? Is that why Amelia spent so long outside in his company?

Author's Notes

How do you now see Wes achieving his hotwife dreams from this point? Progress might not prove quite as straightforward as it seems.   

Next week, in the last of these early 'Black Marks' chapters (before we revert to 'Lanie Comes Of Age' in October), the focus in Chapter 4 switches to Ashley and his hotwife Marcie from 'Hotwife Switch'. And there, when they 'entertain' at home, Marcie wants her husband in chastity. She also wants something else. Something that shocks her husband to his core.

© 2024 Tinto Selvaggio. All rights reserved.

All sexually active 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.