Do you ever make promises that you don’t expect to keep? The people that you make them to won't remember or expect you to keep? You know the kind; I'll get you that Ferrari in red, or I’ll find a black guy for you to fuck. You know, just casual, off-the-wall promises. If you do, quit! Especially to your girlfriend. Promises can come back to haunt you.

Now I never make those kinds of promises unless we’re watching interracial porn. When you’re in the throes of sex, lust, and arousal, you sometimes say things you regret saying.

When Cheryl and I watched Surprise on our bedroom TV, the passionate scene with the star being fucked by a black adonis drove Cheryl nuts, so I told her I’d get someone like that to fuck her. Right, just a horn dog promise.

I’d wanted her to get fucked by another man, but she was never interested until now. When that scene finished with a joint climax, that made Cheryl explode with her climax, too. Wave after wave of spasms and screams poured out of her. When she finally came down, she was drenched in sweat and exhausted.

It was an experience that she wanted for herself, and I’d promised it to her. Hell.

She kept reminding me about it, and the possibility that I’d be able to watch it was so overwhelming that I started looking for men. My friends didn’t include any lovers for her, so I started looking around for possibilities.

I realized part of the appeal for her was the fact he was black; maybe for me too.

I looked around, and in my neighborhood there were almost no black men, and most of the ones I saw had a ring on. Not going there. I started looking beyond my almost-lily-white neighborhood for partners for Cheryl.

Do you remember learning that we always found lost car keys in the last place you looked? Well, the theory proved right; I found the right guy in my favorite bookstore, The Book Worm. I actually knew him, but I just didn’t think of him. He would be perfect.

What if, god, I’m thinking it’s just a one-time thing, but what if it’s not? Maybe Cheryl’ll decide she likes fucking him and wants to continue. Maybe she’ll decide to. No, she wouldn’t do that, never. 

Or would she? Could she want to have different lovers and look for more? Was this a mistake? Hell.

“Hey, Kevin, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? How’s it going? Oh, I was thinking about you. You're still in the insurance business, aren’t you? I've got a friend, and he’s starting a new business, and, well, if I told you about it, you could decide if you’d be able to help him with that? Actually, I’m investing in the business, and I don't want my ass hanging out without protection.”

I looked at my watch and said, “Sure, I’d love to. Have you had lunch? It’s about time, isn’t it?”

I’d been browsing, and Tuck had already paid, so we left for lunch.

Should I talk to Cheryl about Tuck? Do I actually want to keep my promise to her? And, hell, how do you go about telling a friend, you want him to screw your wife because of a porn film?

We left to go to Smitty’s Cafe and have lunch. We discussed his friend's new business, and I got contact information for him. Then we just reminisced. Tuck, Bill, Rowen, and I had run around during our girl-chasing era. I ended up eventually catching Cheryl, and Bill and Rowan had caught their own girls and gone back east. “So, are you still chasing the women? Or did you catch someone?”

“Not likely; I’m still having more fun as a single guy.”

“Ah yes, you always liked catch-and-release dating; I seem to remember that you liked to borrow girls from their boyfriends, didn’t you?”

That's right, I’d almost forgotten. He liked to borrow girls from their boyfriends and their husbands, too. He’d never borrowed our girls from us, though I think he hadn’t. God, had he?

I need to think this through before I do something stupid.

I got his address and phone number before we finished, and I sat in my car, just thinking round and round, not coming to any conclusions. Eventually, I went back to my office to work.

God, Tuck? Did I want him to fuck Cheryl? Could I let him do it? His reputation when we were running around was a wonderful fuck for all the girls. They loved it and found it hard to let him move on. Would she prefer him to me? Most of the women he screwed had a hard time letting him go.

This is what I’d promised her—a wonderful black lover. One I knew she’d enjoy—more than enjoy—and one she’d think was fabulous.

“How did your day go?"

Cheryl answered with a very undistinguished day, so I started telling her about Tuck. “I went into The Book Worm at noon today, and a friend of mine that I used to run around with, um, before I met you. We called him Tuck.” I laughed and said, “I don't know why, but that was what we called him.”

I hesitated, then said, “He might be the guy I promised you, um, the b-black guy, to fuck you. Maybe? I didn’t actually talk to him about it, but I think I’m sure you’ll love …” I couldn’t say it.

“Fuck me, the guy to fuck me, the black guy?” she said excitedly. “Can I meet him? Do you think he’d be willing to?”

This wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for. “I can call, and we can have dinner with him this Friday, maybe lunch Saturday, or even a picnic at River Park, maybe.”

During my call, we decided on dinner at Antonio's on Saturday evening.

Is this going to be a mistake? A huge mistake on my part? She sure seems eager to try a strange cock. I wish I’d never even heard of that movie.

Cheryl talked about it over the next few days until she met him. She finally asked me if she liked him, if she could go home with him tonight. My reaction was, “Um, no, if you do it, it’ll be at our house, not at his.”

She wanted it to happen without me there, without me watching or even listening, just like it happened in the movie. She insisted on that, and though I never agreed, I knew it would happen her way.

We sat at a table for four, with me sitting across from Cheryl and Tuck sitting next to both of us. I wasn’t sure how it happened, but it did. Tuck and Cheryl got along well—better than well, spectacularly well. Halfway through dinner, Cheryl dropped the bomb, telling him about the movie, Surprise, and her reaction to it. I knew that any control I’d thought I had; I didn’t. It was up to Cheryl and Tuck. By dessert, he was holding her hand, giving her light kisses, and taking control away from me. I’d never seen him screw anyone, but I’d talked to women who had done it. He knew how to seduce her.

By the end of dinner, Cheryl and Tuck had decided that they were going to his place, and I’d go home. As she got into his car, she gave me a kiss and whispered, “Thank you for this. I’m going to stay the night; I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

I could see the passionate kiss he gave her in the car, and I saw him unbuttoning the front of her dress to touch her tits.

I got in our car alone, and I felt alone, lonely, and abandoned. The feeling continued all the way home until I got inside. I was picturing the scenes from the movie, but with Cheryl and Tuck as the stars.

I saw them walk into his house, and he had Cheryl's dress half off. He was kissing her tits as he led her in. How long would it take before he had her naked in front of him? He was bruising her tits; I knew it. I could see it happening to her. She was trying to undress him, but he refused to let her. He was controlling her instead. One of his hands was on her pussy, caressing her, and the other was still on her tits.

Her eyes were unfocused while she writhed under his ministrations. Instead of taking her into his bedroom, he sat her on an overstuffed chair, put her legs over his shoulders, and started licking, sucking, and biting her cunt. God, her cunt. I saw her essences from it spreading all over his face while he was drinking and slurping them. I could hear her noises as she was responding to his attack on her cunt.

I heard his sounds of pleasure while he was eating and drinking her. She told him to slap her tits. She wanted to feel them; I knew. When I do it, I need just the right amount of pain. When he did it, she screamed his name, not mine. Knowing it was Tuck was agonizing, yet still arousing. I could feel my cock hard and leaking. I unbuttoned my pants just in time for me to cum on the floor, not in my pants.

I undressed and went to bed, still imagining what was happening to her.

She's completely undressed, and he’s down to his shorts. He’s guiding her to his bed, and then he puts her spreadeagled, open for him to take her. I can hear her whimpering, wanting his cock, but he’s refusing to put her out of her misery. He’s waiting for her to beg for it.

She’s not quite there yet, so he licks her cunt some more with his hands back on her tits. I can hear her come again, asking for his cock to take her to put it in her and cum. Now she’s begging.

“I’ll do anything if you just do it now. Please Tuck, fuck me.” she’s screaming, “Yes, anything; just ask and … “ He puts his cock at her entrance and slowly pushes inside her. That shut her up. I can see her focus on his cock slipping inside her. As it is completely in, she comes again, and her muscles grip his cock, and I am watching him cum inside her.

I come a second time, all over the sheets. I collapse and pass out.

When I woke up at about three in the morning, I couldn't get back to sleep. 

I got the call from Cheryl to pick her up at about nine. She came out of the house in a man's robe with cum in her hair and on her face, both.

“That was spectacular,” is all she said. I couldn’t say anything at all.

Promises-made-promises-kept. Hell.