Darkwanderer

The Dark Wanderer cuckold and slutwife story archive

Apr
03
I am exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted. So when Luther pulled his cock out of me, I was relieved to simply rest against him, my head upon his substantial chest, his big hand stroking my auburn hair. I smell his musk. His perfect ebony skin is next to my eyes when I open them, slowly. I draw in a breathe and release. I kiss his skin and feel his semen leaking out of me. I adore these moments. The intimate, post sex minutes that slip by quietly, whilst the morning light still builds through the French windows of our room. My husband sleeps across the lawn, in the small cabin come art studio that we built ages before I met my lover. He has been locked inside for the night, supplied with a bottle for his urgent toilet requirements...
Apr
01
Not even the most generous minded of you could like me. I understand that. I live a way that no decent wife should. But a circumstance intervened. John my husband was made redundant and that caught us out completely. We had debts. Some pretty hefty debts actually. First there was the repayments on my BMW Z4 which i loved to bits and was loathe to surrender to the bailiffs, and then there was some money owed on the house and its alterations. Marcus, John's younger brother was the voice of sound reason. He said that it was pointless pretending that the redundancy hadn't happened. It was pointless too pretending that John would find it easy to get another job that paid anything like the same sort of income. We should go and live with him...
Apr
01
My wife Jenny steps back into our room after the couple of hours spent with Chester. She is naked save for the black velvet choker that she forgot to remove the previous night. Jenny dates Chester a lot. She is pretty open about her preferences and that cuts me. This is not the way to come out about the way we live. I watch her step quietly into the room, hoping not to wake me. There are some clothes for the day that she wants to collect. Often times she doesn't want the bother of me. Often times she would like to pretend that i really don't exist in this marriage. I watch her pert young breasts move as she reaches into the wardrobe to collect jodhpur pants and boots. They are going riding together. But i can smell her. I can smell her...
Mar
31
So i'm out shopping with Carrie and its like wow, this is the most amazing afternoon ever. First we went and bought new pairs of boots for us each, something in the best Italian leather with the sort of heels that tilt your hips and make your rear look good. Then we bought lingerie, really sensual silk things that slide over your skin. But the real thing about the afternoon wasn't the dreamy purchases. It is the insight into how Carrie lives and how she is sure I can live too.

'So, who is your black friend, the guy who comes to stay most weekends?' I ask. I can't resist asking. Whoever this guy is, he is divine. Imagine the physique of a well trained boxer, shaven headed and with biceps that split shirt sleeves. He's the sort of man...
Mar
30
'Ironing the pleats in one of these mini skirts is the hardest thing' said Ted. 'If you don't get the creases just right it looks awful and then there's trouble.'

I watch Ted work the very tip of the iron up and down every crease in Trisha's tartan mini skirt. I think they're pretty sexy looking, but I'd never imagined myself ironing such a thing. I'd never imagined doing half of the clothing upkeep that that Ted was now teaching me. Washing, ironing, polishing and maintaining my fiancee's clothing.

'Trisha has never looked after her own clothes, that was my work before and next it will be yours. Trisha is a little lady and ladies don't do menial work' observed Ted, setting up another crease for the press of the iron.

Well, I had...
Mar
26
[​IMG]

Darius was preparing in the adjoining room of the Voluntary White Boy Disposal Center as the white couple awaited. The disposal of white males had become highly encouraged the last few years with the increasingly radical Alt Left government in power.

The little SJW Violet had met Dani freshman year... The pretty feyish white boi sweet and obedient. Yet, all her time supporting BLM and taking part in violent riots burning white homes and businesses... Drinking up hours of interracial pornography, education in white guilt, and indoctrination of black superiority... It had been close to a year since Dani was touched sexually by...
Mar
25
When the morning sun streamed through the window of his bedroom Jean Claude lay back on the bed and started to masturbate. It was still early, may be not even seven a.m., but the sun was already warm. He felt it's touch upon his flabby belly and across his hirsute arm. There, he found his cock amongst the mass of curling, already grey hair on his pubes and started to touch himself. It was but a moment for him to feel his foreskin and then to daintily pull it back so that his tiny pink/blue glans appeared from beneath the crinkled skin. He felt his cock stir. He felt his shaft start to fill with blood, but his touch was light. It didn't require much these days to get himself erect. Sometimes, all to often in fact, he got an erection,...
Mar
25
Chapter Two – Moving On

Helen and me have been married long enough for us to have celebrated our Silver Anniversary a few years back (you do the math) and I have to say that life as we go through our fifth decade couldn’t be better for the pair of us .. or maybe it could; we’ll see.

We live in South London in a large house inherited when Helen’s parents passed on but, despite having no mortgage, money has always been tight and we are careful with our spending. (I haven’t told Helen of my secret indulgence of buying a weekly lottery ticket; she would not be pleased!)

Our kids emigrated a few years ago to work and settle on the other side of the world leaving us as ‘empty nesters’ with spare bedrooms and space in the capacious loft. It...
Mar
24
Natalie came in, set her Chanel handbag down on the coffee table and stood before me as I sat on the sofa. Her skin tight little black dress had been rucked up some. There was a tear on one of the shoulder seams. On her throat, easily visible at the front, was a bite mark. Her lovely ash blonde hair had been tousled about and I could hear her breathing fast. On her wrist there was a Cartier Santos chronograph, a bloke's watch. She'd not worn anything like that to go out. But I recognised it, why?

Natalie parties on a Saturday night. We haven't ever talked about that in depth, you know, the niceties of it. The permission is implicit. I am small downstairs and I have an uncertain erection. Diabetes ruined me. So my wife fucks around,...
Mar
23
Annette my wife is utterly perfect in boots. You need to picture a petite brunette with bob cut hair, with a very trim figure, pert arse and long legs. Annette is in her early twenties and I'm in my forties, but age never came between us. She liked the success I had made of my life, income earned and the nice house I'd bought. I liked her sassy ways, the teasing smile and the sense of fun and fashion she has. She doesn't work of course and has no need to. So she spends some of her time clothes shopping on my credit card. She spends a fair amount of that time, buying boots.

I'm not going to embarrass myself analysing where I picked up the boots fetish. Where do any of these things come from? All i knew was that the first time that I...