It almost haunted me…

Like every day, I looked across the street and there it was: Club Eden. Since we moved here, almost nine months ago, I have stared at the little red sign.

Almost invisible to all those who just passed as they went about their everyday business, but that sign and the door that sat beneath it were like beacons crying out. I just wanted to go inside and take a look and see what an upscale lifestyle club was all about.

However, I may just have the answer, as rotating in my hand was a large, elaborate, sparkly red card; it was an invitation to Club Eden’s Christmas party.

It read…

Hi Neighbour, Club Eden invites couples free to our, “Get to Know You-Ho-Ho Party" on Christmas Eve-Eve, Saturday 23rd 2023. Show this card at the booth and step forward into paradise. The start time is ten pm and goes on until four in the morning.

In large letters, VIP was written across it, and on the back there was a special Christmas dress code just for that evening.

Standing there, fiddling with it, I wondered if I should show the invitation to my wife.

It was a dilemma…

*****

We are Michelle and Steve, now in our early forties and successful, both working as doctors at our local private hospital. Last spring we took the opportunity to move back into the city to be close to our work, and the city nightlife. My wife has always been one to enjoy a night out with her girlfriends.

But life hadn’t always been like that.

We met at sixteen and started dating; each other’s firsts. I knew straight away I was punching with Michelle. Blonde, leggy, and intelligent, she was the most desirable teenage girl in our neighbourhood. It is also true to say that twenty-seven years later, her beauty hasn’t diminished.

I have never really understood what she saw in me, but we just clicked as a couple. Michelle was from a wealthy medical background family, and her parents were from the Deep South. As for me, I lived with my dad, my mum was gone, and our wealth was just a fraction of my girlfriend’s family. But no one seemed to care about the balance between our looks and wealth.

All anyone cared about was that Michelle was in love and happy.

Then it happened. Not clever for two future doctors, Michelle fell pregnant. By eighteen, we were married and with our daughter, Charlotte. We muddled through those difficult years thanks greatly to the help we received from Michelle’s parents.

Those late teenage years slipped past us in a moment as we juggled diapers, education, and later medical exams. We also wanted another child, but it didn’t happen, mainly because we seemed to always be too busy. Then when we had the time, the age gap to our daughter's current age seemed too great. It would feel like we were starting over once again.

So, it was decided, after lots of discussions, for me to have a vasectomy.

Eventually, we all pulled through, qualified as doctors, and our daughter turned into a beautiful, intelligent woman. Today, Charlotte is the spitting image of how her mother looked at her age. She is also married and living not so far away from where we used to live.

With Michelle’s parents away in Europe and Charlotte, who was now pregnant, spending the vacation time with her husband's family. This Christmas was going to be a strange one for us. It would be our first one on our own and the last one not being grandparents.

As for my dad and his new, silicon-enhanced bride, they were both happy living it up in the Caribbean. We wouldn’t be seeing them either.

Normally, we hosted, but this year it felt as if we were heading for a self-inflicted Christmas rut.

My eyes were once again drawn towards Club Eden and the hidden treasures there. I wondered what it would be like with another woman, and seeing Michelle with another man.

We had been completely faithful to one another ever since we had met. While there had been temptations, neither of us had strayed. That doesn’t mean to say our monogamous lifestyle has been boring. We both knew each other’s sexual buttons, most of which seemed to overlap.

When we had our date nights, I would always ask Michelle to dress a little slutty. Wear a short skirt and high heels to show off her sexy legs. And low-cut blouses with push-up bras to make her 36 C-cup breasts look even bigger. This knitted neatly into my wife’s secret fetish. She liked to show off her body and happily even flash me.

Yes, we were really made for one another.

The other thing we do, but only in the bedroom, is role play. Michelle is more than happy to pretend to be fucked by the latest heartthrob celebrity, especially if he was a black man. She didn’t admit that part was true, but when you've been together so long, I could just tell. My wife was secretly attracted to black men.

That was the other thing we missed was our youth and sexual experimentation; going from teenagers straight to parents in a matter of a year had been hard for us on all accounts.

I took my eyes away from the window and looked across our luxury apartment. Michelle was there, sitting, and reading a fashion magazine. Her long-toned legs curled under her but still captured my vision and imagination.

I smiled and walked over to my wife, the invitation card still twirling in my hand.

She looked at me, her deep blue eyes smiling at me. They cut through me and played a tune with my thumping heart. 

I handed the red glittery card to my wife…

“Do you want to go?”

“It could be fun,” I quickly added.

We had this conversation before when I had suggested going to Club Eden. Michelle was no prude; she knew what the place was and her answer then had come in the form of two questions.

“Why do you want to visit?”

“We both know what the place is; so why do we need to know anymore?”

Then I didn’t pursue those questions. It didn’t feel like the right time, but now it felt different. We were looking at a slightly lonely Christmas. It was just the two of us. There was no hosting as our friends were with their families during the vacation.

Michelle continued to look at me; reading me; the invite was still in her hand.

I chose to pursue it.

“It will be fun, dress up a little sexily and watch others have sex,” I carefully said. My cock was suddenly alive in my pants. It had got ahead of our conversation.

“Steve, I don’t know. Could you handle guys coming onto me?”

“Men hit on you all the time, Michelle, wherever we are.  You know I have never had an issue with it as it reminds me what a hot sexy wife I have!” I said enthusiastically.

It was true; my wife was always being chatted up by other men. It was something I had the feeling she enjoyed; though she never would admit to it.

Michelle smiled and kissed me.

“VIP, ah? … I think about it. We have got a couple of weeks.”

*****

One night last week, I had been walking past Club Eden when a man came out of the club’s door in a hurry. He accidentally bumped into me.

While I didn’t recognise him, we got talking. He told me he was the manager at the club and he knew me from the hospital where I worked, having been a recent patient there. I had treated him, though he described it as saving his life!

As we talked, I pointed out where I lived, which in turn had me being invited into Club Eden to look around. But I turned him down, not wanting to be there without Michelle. It was then he gave me a leaflet about the Christmas Eve-Eve party and a plan started to form in my mind.

The manager told me if we went to the party we would be treated as VIPs. That sealed it; I knew what I had to do!

*****  

It was the night of the party, the 23rd, and Michelle had agreed to go to it. But she had laid down some rules.

The first was a kind of fun. She told me that she needed to get ready on her own. So once I was changed, the bedroom door was going to be locked and I would have to wait for her. It would be only then that I saw what she was wearing for the evening.

The second rule I found strange. She wanted us to abscond from sex for a week before the party, as she wanted us to both be horny for the event. This we had done, and she was right; I was horny.

The third and final rule was simple, and it only applied once we were inside Club Eden. Michelle had asked me if I minded agreeing to do what she asked of me. That meant if she wanted to go home, we went home. Alternatively, if she wanted some time to circulate on her own, I would give her space.

Of course, I readily agreed; I wanted to go, so I wasn’t going to say no.

With neither of us ever been to Club Eden or any swingers’ club, it was hard to know what to expect. Though we had discussed the possibility of doing something beyond just watching; that was all it was, talk. We had no rule.

I certainly wasn’t sure what I wanted, though I had asked myself…

Did I want to see Michelle with another man?

Did I want to fuck another woman?

A lifetime is a long period to only have one sexual partner, but I knew that worked both ways.

As I waited for my wife, I opened the scotch.

It gave me a chance to think back to the night I met the Club Eden Manager. What he had said to me and that plan, which had slowly developed in my head. I knew I was being sneaky, even lying to my wife. But, I told myself; it was only a white lie and nothing more.

One visit to a lifestyle club is not going to hurt. We can just explore it and come home. We didn’t need to do any more than that…

But those two little questions kept resonating in my head. Did I want sex with another woman? Did I want to see my wife with another man?

I couldn’t answer either, but I did know I wanted to go to Club Eden at least once!

What I had done was devious, but I could justify it, as I only wanted to give myself the best chance of attending the club once.

Using the publicity leaflet the Manager had given me as a reference; I had acquired a fake Club Eden VIP invitation. That part had been easy. I knew Roy. He was the guy at the hospital you went to for anything a little unusual.

Like all transactions with him, I had explained what I needed and why. It was his reassurance that it wouldn’t come back on him if things went awry.

My exact words had been, “We live opposite, and I need a little encouragement for my wife to visit and look around. You know, seeing the club sign every day made me wonder what it was like inside.” 

Roy smiled. He understood.

A week and fifty dollars later, I had the red glittery invite card in my hand. It had been done so well even I started to believe it was real.

*****

With one scotch down, I started to feel nervous. It wasn’t quite ten pm, but I was wondering why it was taking Michelle so long. She was never the quickest, but my cock had been counting the seconds, wanting to see what my wife was wearing.

The men’s dress code had been easy: a Christmas shirt, pants, no jeans and shoes, and no sneakers. That is exactly what I was wearing, though I also had the addition of a Santa hat.  

With the temptation building of trying the bedroom door and my nervousness slightly tapered by the scotch, Michelle appeared. She was wearing high red stilettos, a Santa hat, and… a long winter coat!

My wife was also grinning at me. “Disappointed?”

I nodded. She was teasing me.

Still grinning, my wife slowly undid the coat, one button at a time. She was deliberately holding my attention, drawing out the time to reveal all.

Underneath was a short red wrap-around dress, with white fur on the hems.

“Mrs Claws?” I questioned.

“No Lady Christmas,” Michelle replied, slightly disgusted. “Mrs Claws sounds too old!”

The party was Xmas themed, and to enter you had to dress appropriately, which meant something sexy with a nod to Christmas. My wife had ticked all the boxes, but I now wondered what was underneath.

Michelle got there before me. She lifted the dress to reveal red stockings with suspenders; they were very different from her normal pantyhose. Lastly, she revealed a red lacy thong, like all her lingerie; it had been bought for tonight’s party.  

“You look beautiful, Michelle,” I said. She always did, but these days I rarely complimented her. At forty-three, she could easily pass for someone ten years younger.

“Well, let’s get going,” she said, re-buttoning her coat and looking at me as if she expected me to say something more. Perhaps even whisk her into my arms and take her back to our bedroom. I was tempted, especially after a week without sex.

But instead, I stayed mute; Club Eden was still calling me. I had to know what it was like inside. I wanted to dance with my beautiful wife and show her off.

Tonight, for us, it was going to be a night of flirtation and sexual fun. I grabbed my coat and put it on before taking Michelle’s hand.

“Are you sure?” she questioned. “You know, once inside, I will be sticking to my rules.”

The third rule, I thought. She was giving me one last chance to stay here.

I smiled. “Let’s go Michelle and I do accept you will be getting more attention than me.”

We left, without that question answered… How far should we go?

*****

The lady working at the Eden Club’s entry kiosk was dressed as a naughty elf. I nervously smiled at her as Michelle was not far behind me. Subtly, I slid the fake red invite across the counter; a one-hundred-dollar bill hidden beneath it. She gave me an odd look but then smiled as I covertly moved the invite aside, revealing the cash.

It was evident she had seen this all before, as without comment she handed me two red paper wristbands, telling us that we had to wear them inside the club. I quickly fastened mine around my wrist, and then I watched Michelle, who, with a giggle, fastened hers around her right ankle. As she did so, she flashed her stocking tops from underneath her coat and glanced at me; her face telling me she was happy.

 It occurred to me for the first time that my wife might want this too.

With our coats in the club's cloakroom, we took each other’s hand and stepped into what had been described as the Garden of Eden.

It was meant to represent the garden of paradise and it was there when you looked; the tropical plants, trees, nude white statues, and a small waterfall. But tonight, it was different, as Christmas had arrived.

The whole club area had been frosted by Xmas; a coating of fake snow covered the plants, trees, and statues. The waterfall was frozen, with plastic icicles hanging from it and a small snowman overseeing the two miniature figures skating on the skating rink below it. A fully decorated Christmas tree was standing on the other side.

Amongst the vines, there were long, glittery streamers that arced across the room. Hanging from them were what looked like inverted snow globes; each one lit and a different Xmas scene. But dominating the room and hanging from the high ceiling was Santa Claus, steering his reindeer. He was sitting on a large present-laden sledge with “Get to Know You-Ho-Ho” written on the side of it. The words were a play on this room, as it was where you mixed and mingled or, as the lady in the entry kiosk had said, “A-get-to-know-you-area.”

On our left-hand side was a long bar, the tenders all dressed as elves, and in the centre, a wooden dance floor. It had small dull lights set into the floor, defining its edges. Finally, on the far side were stairs that led downwards into the playrooms.

The manager must have seen us as he appeared and, to my wife’s amusement, thanked me once again for saving his life. More importantly, he produced two complementary cocktails and a small book of drinks vouchers telling us it was because we were his guests, and therefore VIPs.

After he left, I showed Michelle the book of vouchers and then pointed to the large letters written on it. They matched our fake entrance voucher. “VIP,” I muttered. I was trying to reinforce the white lie that had been written over our bogus invite.

She smiled and said, “Let’s watch a while.”

With our drinks in our hands, I followed my wife’s long stocking-covered legs to the other side of the room. Her short Santa dress was occasionally lifting, giving her audience a flash of her thighs. That aroused me. Her red stocking tops and suspenders were there for all to see. I knew within the club's darkness, there were men already with an eye on her; desiring my wife.

“What do you think of the place?” I asked as we stood in the corner. My arm wrapped around Michelle.  

“Not as tacky as I thought,” she replied. “Actually, the place feels like any nightclub, yet the patrons are dressed a little differently.”

I looked around, taking in as much of Club Eden as I could. It was filling up with new customers. Mainly couples dressed similarly to Michelle and me, but there were singles too. Mostly alpha males, I thought, looking to enjoy the company of ladies like my wife.

We chatted and used our voucher for more drinks as we were getting the lay of the place.

“Come on,” Michelle eventually said. “Let’s wander, and mingle.”

I followed her, wondering, and then questioning what my wife wanted, after all, I had agreed to accept what she desired to do.

“Do you want to go and look downstairs?” I suggested.

Michelle laughed and said, “Maybe later, let’s dance.”

This was another of my wife’s things, dancing. Though I don’t mind being out there on the dance floor; I was just not in her league. We saw out three songs and, with the meet and greet area now almost full, we found ourselves at the top of the stairs.

“Let’s have a quick look,” I suggested, “Before it gets busy.”

She agreed.

I just followed my wife down the stairs, away from the noise and Christmas. We found ourselves in a darkened circular room.

 Around the outside were several doors and passageways leading to other darker places. In the middle of the room was a seating area with a black four-way arch with a long material snake curled up around it. Reddish light illuminated everything, giving you good enough light to see, but with it a hint of privacy.  

The early hour meant the room was all but empty, just one couple in the seated area. They got up, her topless, and walked through one of the open doors into a private room. The door closed behind them.

I didn’t know the club’s etiquette, but I could see that some of the rooms had windows in the walls. Room seven even seemed to have a small platform with individual booths to view from. I pointed it out to my wife.

“Do you want to watch?” I asked, my cock hard. The abstinence from sex this week biting.      

Michelle giggled, “Maybe later,” then turned and climbed the stairs; back to the party above.

As she climbed, my eyes darted to her legs and the red band around her ankle. Then they tracked upwards, to the white of her thighs and the flash of her stocking tops. They were just visible from this angle. Then upwards once again, to her shapely bottom, which now seemed to come with a sway. And then up again to her long blonde hair that was currently finished just above her bra strap.

Once back in the main room, Michelle turned and said, “Time for you to get me another drink while I mingle.”

My jaw dropped, which caused my wife to smile.

“Not going home?” I questioned. Whilst asking myself, did I want to watch my wife mix with other couples and other men in a swingers’ club?

“No, I want to mingle,” she grinned. It was clear that there was something she liked about the place.

I went to the bar and used another VIP voucher. When I returned, Michelle was nowhere to be seen, so I wandered looking for her with two drinks in my hands.

“Is one of those for me?” a tall, good-looking brunette asked as I walked past her.

It was an opening line. Michelle wanted me to mingle, and I knew this was my chance.

But we had no meaningful rules. Did I want to go with another woman and risk upsetting my wife?

We should have talked.

I smiled, but walked past the attractive lady; chance gone. I was too interested in finding my wife. While I was sure she hadn’t returned downstairs on her own; maybe the bathrooms, I thought.

Then by chance, I saw her on the dancefloor. Her partner was a tall, athletic, black man with a glittery Santa hat on his head. At first glance, he seemed familiar, but I wasn’t sure.

Standing next to the Christmas tree, rooted, I watched my wife. There seemed a familiarity between her and her dance partner. That surprised me as outside work we didn’t know any black men.

One song led into the next, Michelle swaying, laughing, not looking for me. Her new party partner expertly matched her dance moves. His hands now seemed to be freely touching my wife as they chatted like friends.

Irritatingly, his back remained to me, and all I could see was his reindeer shirt and the white fluffy ball on the end of Santa’s hat move up and down.

I drank my drink, finished it, and then moved on to my wife’s, knowing I had a choice to make. Stay here and watch, mingle, or “rescue” Michelle.

The monogamous voice in my head told me to do the latter, go over, and check she was okay. Then remove her from her tall, dark dance partner.

But wasn’t that why we were here, for us to mingle and have a little fun?

The next voice, the alpha male, was telling me to find that brunette again and buy her a drink. She was interested in you. I looked around for her and, then, another little whisper. Why not watch your wife? She has always wanted to have sex with a black man.

I glanced across. There was no doubt my wife was into him; this unknown black man with the Santa hat. I had to move closer and see who he was.

After finishing my wife’s drink, I circled the room, moving closer to the bar. I needed to see Michelle’s dance partner, but it was as if they knew. They seemed to rotate as I walked, and I never managed to see his full face. Yet a little voice kept telling me he was familiar.

Frustrated, I decided to move in and rescue my wife. But I was stopped in my tracks.

My wife was kissing her dance partner, his hands now freely wandering across her body and under her dress. This was a couple that I knew was going to fuck.

Michelle nodded, and he took her hand. Walking away from me towards the stairs, my legs still stationary, my body now acting like one of the statues. My eyes, now on stalks, tracked them before I found that I could move. Released, I stumbled down the stairs into the darkness, trying to find my wife and the tall black man.

With my heart thumping, and my brain frazzled, I tried to follow, but as I entered the round room with the seating, they were gone. A feeling of mild panic went through me. I needed to know who he was and what was happening.

I crept down the first darkened corridor. It felt like I was walking into the abyss as I glanced in every window, looking for my wife.

Each room seemed different, large, small, dark, couples, multiple couples or, in several cases, no windows at all. These rooms were deemed private. If Michelle had gone into one of these, I vowed to go back upstairs and look for my own partner for the night.

Hit each lady with my best chat-up line, “Do you come here often?”

With no luck, I came to the seventh room; this one had a raised viewing gallery. There were a series of small black booths, each with a lockable door and boxes of tissues. It was clear what these rooms were used for. You could look down through a one-way mirrored window into the room below. Michelle and I had glimpsed it during our earlier visit.

I tentatively looked below. The room was empty except for a round white leather bed and my wife kissing her soon-to-be black lover. I just knew this would be the room, my wife’s exhibitionist fetish coming to the fore. She had never had issues with us having sex where we could be watched.

Confused, I locked the door and did what the other guys in the booths were almost certainly doing; I got my cock out and started to slowly masturbate. It was that or bang on the door below, and cause a scene… I couldn’t do that now we were VIPs.

They were kissing and fumbling; then Michelle’s dress was gone. A heap around her ankles; the fit black man was still fully clothed. My wife dropped to her knees and undid his fly. His big black cock was there for all of us to see, and then, in an instant, it disappeared as she took him into her mouth. 

I looked at the cock in my hand. It was not small but much to my dismay, my wife’s new dark lover’s was larger.

Michelle’s head was now bobbing back and forth; my cock keeping in time as I watched. Sometimes I had to strain, to see past the bobble of the black man’s Santa hat. As he stood there, he was looking down towards his cock and my wife’s mouth wrapped around it. Her tongue was licking, almost salivating, as she slurped over the large black shaft.

With some brief words, they moved to the bed. My wife removed her bra, and it dropped to the floor; her black lover stripping his clothes apart from his Santa hat. However, I tried; I still could not make out who he was. Though I could not hear, the way Michelle spoke to him made me feel they had known one another before tonight.

The unknown black man rolled a condom down his erect shaft, my wife watching on in anticipation. He stood between her spread legs; Michelle lifted her body as he gently tugged her red lacy panties down…

Michelle had come prepared. She was fully shaven!

There had been blonde hair there this morning; no wonder she had taken so long in the bathroom, I thought.

Then, without ceremony, Michelle opened her legs and offered her wet married cunt to her still secret black lover. He plunged in and I swear I could hear my wife’s gasp from where I stood; high up and behind the one-way glass.

With my cock in hand, masturbating, I watched. There was no doubt that they were fucking, not making love, just plain raw animalistic sex as they entertained their audience, knowing it probably contained me.  

My eyes continued to dart from the copulation, the top of the black man's head, and then to my wife’s face, expressing nothing but ecstasy as she came and came. Though unsaid, we both knew that she always wanted to be fucked by a black man.  

I started to edge myself, my emotions now all in my cock… but I needed to know one thing. Who was the secretive man now fucking my wife? Another orgasm ripped through her body and with it came the first signs that this unknown black man was going to cum.

I got my tissue ready.

Michelle's body went rigid, and her stockinged legs clamped around her man. I grunted, and the secret black man’s head went back as he ejaculated into my wife… It was Roy, my hospital go-to man!

The three of us had simultaneously come.

I was shocked, yet not surprised. I always liked Roy, and I knew he always took an opportunity, though I didn’t know that it went as far as his customers' wives.

After I cleaned up, I waited for my wife to exit playroom seven, not knowing what to say. I knew I had been played. Roy must have spoken to Michelle at the hospital and explained what I had done. 

They came over holding hands.

I stood up, not wanting to feel smaller than Roy. I didn’t want to, but we shook hands. It was the way I had been brought up, being polite, and being practical… It wasn’t as so I could have my wife unfucked.

Michelle looked guilty as she glanced at me and then looked down. I gently pulled her head up, and we kissed. I needed the contact, the re-establishment of our love. Though as we kissed, I knew her mouth had recently been wrapped around his cock.

With nervousness, we all sat down together, though my wife chose to sit on Roy’s lap. She even kissed him and as she did so, I noticed she now wasn’t wearing a bra; her dress gaping open.

Most of what Michelle explained to me, I had already surmised. She told me that she had been annoyed when she learned about the fake invite and what I planned to do. Ever since then, Leroy and she had been messaging one another.

“Leroy?” I questioned. Apparently, he only used the name Roy when working at the hospital.   

My wife went on to explain that is why she had set rules, knowing that they would only apply if I persisted with the deception. If that had happened, she would have come clean, too.

But as that didn’t occur, and I went ahead with it; she took the opportunity to have sex with a young, fit black man.  

“Don’t worry,” Michelle said. “Until tonight, I promise you, nothing happened between Leroy and me. Steve, you remain the only white man who’s had sex with me, and I am certainly not looking to replace you.”

That was a sobering thought; tonight I was seeing a different side of Michelle.

It was also becoming clear that my wife wanted to fuck Leroy again, his hand already under her dress. He was fingering her. But, despite what had just happened, I wasn’t ready. We needed to talk away from here, and away from Leroy.

I stood and reached for Michelle’s hand and then helped her to her feet. Leroy joined us. He understood. With one final shake of the hands from me and a kiss from my wife, we went our separate ways.  

*****

We walked from the club back to our apartment. I was stunned, turned on, worried.

“Why did you do it, Michelle?” I whispered as we closed our front door behind us. I had to ask, yet strangely, I wasn’t angry as I already knew the answer.

My wife's blue eyes stared up at mine. They were slightly red. She wasn’t crying, but I could tell she was a little upset… Maybe it was the reality of having just broken her marriage vows.

I embraced her, an act of reassurance. Though still turned on, I knew inside, a small part of me was crying with her. We had opened our marriage up to include another man.

“Because you wanted me to,” she whispered. Then, with a little more force, “And as I said, you lied to me. We weren’t Club Eden VIP guests; we were not guests at all.”

I felt guilty.

Her hand briefly grabbed my crutch. “This and a dirty mind got you into trouble.”

I knew she was right.

Then softly, she said, “But, I wanted it too… so I am equally guilty.”

She continued…

“Don’t think it's all you or Leroy persuading me to do something that I didn’t want to do. I have always wondered what it was like to have sex with a good-looking, athletic black man… and now I know!”

Michelle’s words had me thinking back to when I was watching my wife and Leroy fucking on that round white bed. Once again, my cock stirred in my pants.

“Steve, don’t let this get between us,” Michelle whispered, all her energy seemingly leaving her body with those words.

I tenderly kissed the top of her head; I could only hope to be forgiven in the same way I had already forgiven my wife. She was right; I could have stopped it. So by default, that meant I had wanted it to happen.

“I need a shower,” she said and pulled away from me. We were still in the hallway, just inside the front door.

I grabbed Michelle’s hand; and stopped her.

“Sorry,” I said, “You did nothing wrong. We both knew you wanted to have sex with a hung black man.”

“It is late Steve, let me have a shower,” and with that, she disappeared into our bedroom and behind our ensuite door.

I heard the water running as I got ready for bed. I was too tired to follow Michelle and shower, yet too awake for sleep… I lay there and then, on her getting into bed with me, wrapped my arm around my wife.

It was only then that sleep took me.

*****

Christmas Eve arrived, and we talked. Then we made love and talked again. Each time we spoke, I learned a little more about my wife’s inner desires. It was the talk we should have had before we attended Club Eden’s Christmas party.

Michelle explained to me that when growing up, the idea of being with a black man was so taboo it fascinated her. But back then, she never pursued that sexual fantasy as she knew her parents would never approve, and of course she had me, then Charlotte.

Then circumstances changed when our daughter met Troy, an athletic, handsome black man, and then married him. Michelle told me that with their wedding and the arrival of our first grandchild next year, those taboo thoughts started to come back.

The fuel of this old sexual desire was also helped by the acceptance of her parents to their only grandchild’s choice of man.

From there, she explained, the urge just grew, especially since we moved away from her parents and back into the city as there were so many good-looking black men here. Though she never thought it would happen.

What didn’t go down so well was when I suggested that maybe it was my turn and we needed to find a leggy redhead. Michelle knew I had a thing about redheads; though, once we got past my wife’s icy stare, we both ended up chuckling at the idea. Who would want me?

It was agreed that no damage had been done to our marriage, though Michelle admitted that she was disappointed when I stopped them from having sex for the second time.

I told her I just was not ready.

That had caused her to smile and then giggle. “That sounds like, given time, you will let me do it again.”

“I don’t know Michelle, I still wrestling with what happened.”

It was left like that, and we did not discuss it again until Christmas morning. We were sitting in bed and opening our presents, which now also consisted of two wrapped boxes that had surprisingly arrived in our mailbox only yesterday.

I looked at them and passed the one with my wife’s name on it to Michelle.

“Do you know who these are from?” She questioned.

I didn’t.

Michelle opened hers first and inside was what looked like an expensive piece of silver jewellery.

“A bracelet?” My wife questioned.

I looked at it. “Is there a note?” There wasn’t.

It was only then that I noticed the single black spade hanging from the bracelet. The spade had a white capital Q in the middle of it. I showed it to Michelle, though we were none the wiser, but I had a thought.

“Check your phone, Michelle.”

She did, and there was our answer. It came in the form of a series of messages from Leroy.

“It's an anklet, and I am meant to wear it around my right ankle,” my wife innocently said.

She then gasped, “It has a meaning; you not going to like this.”

“Go on, I am ready.”

“He says you need to fasten it to my right ankle. By doing that, you are permitting me to have sex with multiple hung black men and only black men, apart from yourself.”

I chuckled, “Well, he was right about you wanting to have sex with black men.”

I picked up my present from Leroy. “What’s this, a cock cage?”

Michelle nodded.

Without opening it, and with my best basketball technique, I lobbed it into the wastepaper bin.

“That is not going to happen,” I told my wife.

She giggled. “Leroy also expects you to shave all your pubic hair off, as well.”

I looked at Michelle with disbelief, though that idea wasn’t totally alien to me. We had both experimented with shaving our pubic regions over the years. And just yesterday, my wife had agreed to keep hers completely shaved for 2024.

With our presents all opened, and Christmas Day before us, I looked across to my naked wife. She was next to the bed, standing there, fiddling with the “Queen of Spades” anklet.

It looked like she was in a dilemma. Michelle then looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want to do today?” I softly questioned, suddenly unsure.

Michelle weakly smiled and then looked at me with puppy dog eyes, “I was thinking about inviting Leroy over for Christmas dinner.”

Authors Note:- All characters engaged in sexual acts are 18+  ©2023 wxt55uk. This story may not be reproduced in any manner, without the express permission of the author.