With My Husband’s Permission

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Before this trip my husband had told him he could “screw the hell out of me,” but he must use condoms. Earl told him that it was my decision to make, and he would respect my wishes. Next he asked me if I was going to make him use condoms. I only smiled and hugged him closely.

As soon as we settled into our room and unpacked we had to go to the convention center to set up our booth. We did a little passionate kissing and fondling before leaving the room, but that was all.

All our material had already been delivered, and we managed to unpack it before we broke off for dinner. Then back to the booth. It was almost midnight before we were back in our room.

My desire for sex had cooled, and I had a raging headache. My shower did make me feel better, and I did enjoy Earl’s gentle ministrations and explorations of my body. Earl was eager for sex, but he realized I could not reciprocate so much as I wanted. Instead of regular sex Earl cuddled up to me in the spoon position and we were soon joined by his turgid penis. I fell asleep joined to Earl. At some point before he removed his organ he ejaculated in me. I did not know it until I had to get up before dawn and I discovered the evidence leaking out of me.

When I awakened in the morning I quickly shook Earl. It was after six, and w had to be at the convention center by eight. Earl was determined to “please” me, as he termed it. He was so gentle, and his exploring hands felt so good that I let him do what he wanted. The sex was very good, although I did not have an orgasm. Earl realized this, and he tried so very hard. After he had his ejaculation he managed to stay hard for a while longer. It felt very good, and I was so close to an orgasm. He wanted to bring me to an orgasm with his fingers, but it was getting late. It was so late we had no time for breakfast. Later we bough something at the convention center.

It was not a fun morning. I had placed a panty liner in my panty, which I often do after sex with Hugh. Well, it was totally inadequate. I really leaked a lot, and I had to take some napkins from the food stand to stuff my panty.

We were back in our room by eight o’clock. After some hugs and kisses we went down to the casino for an hour or so; then back to the room.

We showered together at Earl’s suggestion. We washed each other. For the first time I got a good look at Earl’s sexual equipment. I got so excited looking and touching all of him, but especially his beautiful penis. I had only seen two other totally nude men, my dad and Hugh. Earl, like my husband had been circumcised, and it made his penis look a little funny to me. Where the skin had been cut away it was a smoky red color, but the rest of his shaft was very black. And I think his scrotum was even darker. When I washed his sex parts he got an erection, and he tried to put it in me. He lifted me and tried to slide me down on his very tumescent organ, but it hurt and he had to stop. He wanted to lube his organ with soap and try again, but I stopped him. I did not want any soap in there. It can be irritating.

That night the sex was the best. Earl took a long time with his foreplay, vowing he was going to make sure I had an orgasm. Well, he tried very hard, and every thing he did felt very good. After he softened he used his tongue down there, and in less than a minute I had a roaring orgasm.

I felt so good lying there with Earl, and he felt the same way. Soon he had another erection, and after a long good-night kiss he whispered in my ear, “Can I park my car in your garage again tonight, and go to sleep that way? I promise I won’t dump a load in you.”

I raised my leg and helped him enter, and then I whispered. “Do anything you want. I am all yours. I have a towel here tonight.”

That night I awakened later, feeling Earl’s potent organ gently moving inside me. Soon I felt the warmth of his semen when he ejaculated. I squeezed his hand to let him know I knew what he was doing. I was asleep before he withdrew from me.

Friday evening we attended a banquet for the exhibitors. We were seated in a terrible place by the kitchen door, and behind a pillar. I think we were the last guests served. We were just ignored. I think it was because Earl was black and I was white. I also received many unfriendly glares from the men. There were a few other black men there, and at least one black couple. I think they were all treated better than us. We retreated to the sanctuary of our room as soon as we had eaten. We did stop in the casino for a drink. No one stared at us there.

I had, like the previous three days, noticed him before he reached my door. And like all previous times, I pretended not to notice. “Hey again, Sandy, mind if I get another glass of water?”

Turning to face him, I first smiled my answer and then confirmed it with words. “Of course not, hun. I’m surprised you can’t get into the house.” This was true. He’d been working on the house next door since my husband and I arrived last week for vacation. It was odd that he didn’t have access to the place.

“Ya, I know. My guess is that the guy thinks I’ll steal some shit or something. I guess I’d worry too – it’s not like he pays me a lot.” He laughed, and his casual profanity was more cute than offensive.

“Well, he should pay you more! You’re doing a great job. And you definitely looks like you pay attention to detail.” This was a casual comment, but he seemed to take it as an invitation. I watched as his eyes travel up and down my body.

“I do, Sandy, I really do. Like I’ve noticed that your husband leaves every morning at 8:30 and doesn’t come home until after 5.”

I was unnerved by this comment. “You’ve noticed that?”

“Yes, I have. And it isn’t even the most interesting thing that I’ve seen.” Again, I watched as his eyes slowly travelled up and down my body.

I tried to take control of the conversation. “Really? Have you noticed that I’m twice your age?”

“I’m not interested in your age.”

I couldn’t ask the obvious question because it was clear what he was interested in. “Maybe you should go now.”

“I don’t want to, Sandy. Do you want me to leave?”

I wasn’t sure, so I gave him a non-answer. “I’m married.”

“I don’t care.” From his stare, I believed him.

My response was true, but it left an opening. “But I should care.”

He stepped closer and whispered, “You should do what makes you happy.” My heart was racing, but I did not back away.

He reached down, took my hand in his, and whispered again. “Sandy, no one will ever know. Nobody.” With my hand in his, our eyes locked on each other, we shared silence.

“I’m getting back to work. If you want me, leave your door open tomorrow morning after your husband leaves.”

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Dinner with my husband was pleasant, but quiet. He asked me what was on my mind, and I confessed to having too many different things going and I didn’t know how to explain just one. “You know I get, hun. I’m just thinking.”

And I was. I was wondering what I should do. Well, I knew what I should do; I just wasn’t sure what I would do. The evening was quiet, we went to bed at our normal time, but I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking about him, about his toned body, about his confidence. I liked that he was so tall, and so muscular. His skin looked perfect, even the areas he had tattooed were sensual.

He seemed demanding, and dominant, but was he honest? If I left that door open, would it remain a secret? And what would I regret more? Leaving the door open, or keeping it closed.

I decided to keep it closed. But even then my sleep wasn’t restful.

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When I woke, I felt confident in my decision. I got up, kissed my husband on his forehead, and took a quick shower. When I was done, we switched places. I put on my bathrobe, and went to make us breakfast. This was our normal dance. I would cook him eggs and prepare fruit and yogurt for myself.

Breakfast was nice, and the coffee even nicer. I had 2 cups, which was rare for me. Still, though, I was quiet, but quietly confident in my decision. My husband noticed that I was lost in thought.

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