mature stories & pics xxx

Mixed marriages don’t work. That was the anthem drummed into me growing up in 60’s suburbia. It did happen of course, even in the leafy avenues of the middle class. Several white girls married black men - a few of my friends in fact - but, probably due to the pressures of the times, not many of these unions lasted and those that did the couples usually ended up moving away to more hospitable or understanding areas.

It was tough too; there weren’t many black girls of my age to choose from and those that there were didn’t seem very interested. And so, as I reached adolescence, I started dating white girls. I think I always knew that I would never marry against my parents’ wishes or against what seemed to be the accepted norm, but dating was a different thing as far as I was concerned. I adored the way that my dark skin contrasted with their soft feminine white skin and, probably because of the largely inaccurate rumours concerning the size of a black male’s endowment; I was rarely short of casual girlfriends. I guess I thought it was probably little more than a rite of passage.
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I sank down on to my bed, my mind was in turmoil, I had just walked in and found my father in law masturbating into my panties on my bed and it all seemed so unreal. Being a level headed girl though I soon found my senses and decided we needed to hit this thing head on. I went to knock on David’s door and after a couple of seconds he opened it looking very sheepish indeed. All he could say again was I am so sorry Helen. I decided to try and make as light of situation as best as I could and I simply said its OK David I guess you have your needs as much as I have mine and besides that makes us one each now. David smiled at me and said thanks and I just said OK lets forget it now and with that we went down stairs and shared a pot of tea trying to make as good a conversation as we could.
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Chapter 3A

My adventure of spending several days in a Cajun home in southern Louisiana, enjoying great food and a hospitality that included having sex with the wife, was something I never expected, and it is thrilling even now to recall it.

But I wish to pause just a bit in my narrative to talk about Sherri, her beauty and her way of life.

In bed, she was a wild and uninhibited sexual creature. She was wonderfully responsive, vocal, and completely free and open about how much she loved sex.
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Sherrie stood in the doorway of my bedroom. Her jet black hair was matched by the thin black nightgown she wore. It covered her, and concealed nothing: She had a perfectly formed body.

She stood not more than 5 feet tall, her skin like alabaster, her dark eyes flashing. She looked like a three-quarter scale Venus

“My husband said to make you feel comfortable, you know,” she said in a slight voice, her Cajun accent so strong it took me a few moments to register what she was saying. Her beautiful face brightened into a smile.
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I guess I am not your average 22-year-old man when it comes to women. From puberty I had the same fascination with the female form that my friend did, but my tastes always tended towards a maturer woman. While all my friends lusted after young pop stars such as Britney Speirs in her school uniform I was more attracted to Monica Bellucci who made the cinema uncomfortably hot for me in the 2nd and 3rd parts of the matrix trilogy. Similarly when my friends started getting interested in the other schoolgirls in our class I was fixated on the female teachers. Don’t get me wrong I had my share of girlfriends through school and college, and enjoyed myself like every guy did, but my love of older women persisted throughout, and I never ended up in a serious relationship. I kept my desires to myself, scared I would be ridiculed by my friends, but they seemed to get more intense with time.
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This is my first ‘Loving Wives’ story that is not a sequel or alternate ending of another author’s story. It *is* inspired by another story on this site but only in the most basic way. I didn’t even read the story but the summary intrigued me, causing me to write. I guess we’ll find out if I’m a good author if I’m not riding someone else’s coattails. LOL!

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My name is George Hewitt and this is my story. I’m currently living in a studio apartment but it wasn’t always that way. A year ago I had a four bedroom house in the ‘burbs, two cars, a mortgage and a wife who loved me. We’d been married for four years and had been planning to start a family when we’d managed to save a bit more money so Pat, my wife, could quit her job and stay home with the baby.
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Authors Note:

I hadn’t planned writing a sequel for A Brief and Dangerous Liaison, but after a request or two I decided to put my mind to it. It should be noted that this story is not for the squeamish or fainthearted. It contains some violence as it follows the post confession punishment of an unfaithful mobster’s wife. For those who haven’t yet read the first story submitted 6/09/05, I would suggest you do so before reading this submission to gain an insight of the circumstances leading to Gracie’s downfall from grace.
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