Hotwife Confession: "It’s Not Cheating If He’s Black!"
- Damien Dsoul
- Apr 7
- 7 min read
This was the Hall Pass agreement I had with my husband regarding my string of infidelities. Ollie didn’t mind how regularly I fuck, or wherever I desire to get fucked (as long as the kids don't know), but he had recently become particular about the sort of men I fuck.
“Black men,” he declared. “Those are the only fellas I’m willing to allow you to have sex with; if I ever see or find out that you’ve been bedding some white fellow, then I’m getting a divorce, plain and simple.”
It took Ollie a long time for him to acknowledge that I’ve got a ravenous sexual appetite, and he was incapable of forcing me to stop. I was screwing guys when we dated, up till when we got married. He found out years later that I’d fucked his friend, who’d been his Best Man the night after our wedding. I would have fucked him the night before, except I couldn’t wrestle myself away from the friends on my hen party night; even then, I was fucking the male stripper, so Don’s friend had to wait the following day for his turn.
I was honest with Ollie about my sexual history. I told him I was a wild lioness that couldn't be tamed. Still, he considered himself capable of giving me a chance; I loved that he did.
I managed to convince Ollie to become a swingers couple, so he could get a taste of other pussy while mine stayed busy with other men. Ollie was susceptible to the idea, but he couldn’t keep up. He decided instead to become a stag. He would sit back and watch me have fun, and later take me home and clean me up before leading me to bed. He was very accommodating towards my lovers.
I’ve had white men as lovers; it wasn’t until I began dating black men that things turned different for me. I did mention that Ollie was always accommodating to my lovers, but he never regarded them beyond what they were after I finished having sex. But the moment I had sex with a black man, something occurred in me that I’d never felt before. Usually, it was all sex with no emotion. That wasn’t the case with the first black man I encountered. He fucked me in ways I hadn’t been fucked before. The sex was ravishing, and I couldn’t get enough of it. I didn’t realise that Ollie, too, had witnessed this insight. It was this insight that made him demand that I have sex with black men only.
I felt an unusual spark when I met Darren, my first black lover, something I’d never encountered from my previous lovers. Ollie and I discussed it afterwards, and he agreed that I see about making Darren more than a one-night stand-type lover.
This encounter happened three years ago. We were on a two-week summer holiday in Cabo. We had arranged to leave the kids with my parents while we set off to Mexico, wanting to escape family, friends, and other familiar faces. Ollie wanted to have me to himself, and I didn’t mind–I thought it would be only us and nobody worth a damn to intrude in our togetherness.
But then I happened upon Darren one afternoon while I lay on the beach, working on my tan. He came out of the water like he existed there, a chiselled, handsome black god that he was. I felt a wallop in my heart as he strolled towards me. He looked at me and smiled before strolling past me. I could barely turn my head out of fear that some woman was waiting for him. Ollie observed my agitation but said nothing.
Darren positioned himself and fed his cock into me. I held my breath as I often do whenever any of my lovers entered me.
We left the beach, and I looked around for my mystery man but never found him. Two days went by before we ran into each other again; this time, it was at the hotel nightclub. I wandered to the bar, and there he was, nursing a drink. Our eyes caught each other–it felt like we were destined to meet. He introduced himself as Darren. He asked if I’d care to dance. I forgot my drink and let him lead me to the dance floor. Ollie watched from across the room while minding his drink.
Darren and I took a break minutes later as we were both sweating. He left the club to catch some air. He mentioned that he was an insurance lawyer, divorced, and residing in Las Vegas. I told him I wanted him—I couldn’t help myself.
“What about your husband?” he asked. “Won’t he come looking for you?”
“He doesn’t mind me being naughty,” I purred. “Which would you prefer–your place or mine?”
It took him five seconds to respond. “My place.”
“Okay. But would you mind if my husband came, too? He only wants to watch.”
“If that’s all he’s good for, then sure.”
I led him to Ollie and introduced them. Ollie finished his drink, then we took off to the main building.
Darren invited us into his apartment. He offered Ollie a beer, then drew me into his arms and made it seem like we were dancing while he caressed my body. My hands felt and squeezed his shoulders, feeling the muscles under his shirt—the same muscles I saw on him when he came out of the water two days ago.
We started kissing. Our kissing started smoothly; then it got demanding; we inhaled each other’s air and moaned in each other’s mouths. Darren squeezed my butt with both hands. I rubbed my knee against his crotch, feeling his erection.
We fell on the bed and rolled back and forth while struggling out of our clothes. I unzipped his pants and dug out his cock. Ollie leaned forward, and I saw the surprised look on his face as he watched me take Darren’s cock in my mouth. He grew hard in an instant. I stroked his foreskin while bopping my head on his crotch. Darren smacked my butt as I positioned myself on my elbows and knees. Later, he got me on my back and attacked my cunt with his tongue and lips.
I was impatient for his cock. I pulled him up from the bed and murmured something about wanting him so bad. Darren positioned himself and fed his cock into me. I held my breath as I often do whenever any of my lovers entered me. It was supposed to feel natural, but things went to an unbelievable level with Darren. It felt like the first time I was getting fucked. His girth was thicker than my other lovers. I gripped his shoulders and moaned aloud as he drove deep inside me. My body responded to his grind. My hips lifted upwards each time he pulled inches out of me. Darren came on top of me, and I locked my feet over his backside as we continued our grind. We stayed locked in our kissing. I couldn’t help gasping each second I sucked in air through my mouth.
Darren slid his hands under my backside and pawed my butt while bouncing hard on me. His cock stabbed me harder and harder, and I was groaning in line with him. He rolled over and pulled me along. I straddled him before I even had time to manoeuvre perfectly. We rode each other hard. We locked fingers and maintained eye contact all through; I even forgot that Ollie was in the room.
Darren pulled out and squirted cum on my thighs and butt. I came off him and cleaned his cock for him. We cuddled in bed and talked like we were old friends while Ollie sat casually across, watching us. Darren and I fucked again, and this time we went longer; then I decided to call it a night with a promise to see each other in the morning. I was giddy with excitement when Ollie and I returned to our suite. Morning arrived, and I couldn’t wait to see Darren. I spent much of the day with him, only enjoying breakfast and lunch with Ollie.
It was sad when Darren left several days later. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses and kept in touch for a while until things went cold between us. But that was a changing moment for me. I broke off from my white boyfriends, and that was when Ollie suggested the Hall Pass for me to stay black and never go back.
As a white man the acceptance that a Black man takes precedence is fundamental to achieving a reasoned understanding of one's sexual potential. Once that acceptance has been achieved there are significant benefit for both partners in a relationaship. For the woman greater sexual satisfaction, for the man the enhanced self-awareness and inner peace through yielding to the superior man.