A New Ball Game - Chapter Six

`Like Father; like Son' is how I regard my boy, Jorge, and I am humbled to see how he has followed in his father's footsteps. I don't think he ever actually regarded me as a 'role model', more like it has been a set of circumstances that bought him to where he now, pretty much a clone of his *** both mentally and physically.

Jorge was always a bit of shy, quiet lad growing up and come the time when he applied to go a college his mother and I did fret about him and the prospect of him living away from home for the first time in his life. He was the opposite in nature to his sister Emilie who was more out-going and he was very much a home-loving bird. However, once he had got himself settled he assured us in our weekly phone calls that everything was fine and we had nothing to worry about, that he was coping and enjoying himself very well. The reality was that, no, he wasn't coping but we were not to find that out until many months later by which time his troubles had resolved themselves and that his college years had indeed become a life-changing experience.

His problems at college stemmed not from his time in class (he was the most well-behaved student) but from his living situation. On the recommendation of another student he found a place in a house-share with two other young men in an area of city which he soon found was 'not the smartest address in town'. Amongst other drawbacks it turned out that the house next door was being used as a base by local drug dealers and it didn't take too long before the three young students were being regularly threatened by some very unsavoury characters. His companions in the house were made of stronger stuff than Jorge and could cope with the abuse but they were coming up for graduation and with it a ready excuse to vacate. Poor old Jorge had no such escape route and he seemed destined to be trapped in this situation unless the college could help him find somewhere safer to live. That was when Abebi came on the scene to rescue him from his misery.

Abebi was one of the college accommodation team and it was she who found him a safe haven for which he was truly thankful. She was (and still is!) a motherly black woman and she had taken a shine to Jorge who, as I said, had been bought up to be polite and respectful to his elders. She recognised that he was a sensitive soul and I don't know if she pulled a few strings but she managed to find him accommodation in the university halls where, she said, she could keep an eye on him!

He stayed there throughout the remainder of his time in college but, obviously, had to vacate when he graduated. He found himself a post-graduate position as a research assistant at the university and although it may have been contrary to college policy Abebi took him under her wing and rented him a room in her own house. Once he had moved in she became some kind of surrogate mother.

Although Abebi was a very strong willed black woman she soon developed a soft spot for 'our little boy' and that affection over the next few months turned to romance. The first we heard of this relationship was when Jorge announced that they planned to get married which was a bit of a shock given that as nice as the lady was (we did meet her a couple of times when we visited) she was closer to his mother's age than his.

However, more intriguing was, we learned much later, that the 'romance' was, as far as Jorge's involvement was concerned, a non-sexual relationship and, bizarrely, that the strong willed, dominant Abebi would be continuing to entertain her string of black lovers while she would be denying Jorge any sexual contact. He would be 'allowed' to watch but this was so he could be made aware of how much better endowed and more accomplished a black cock could be rather than his little white dick. Jorge, forever the obedient boy, complied with her conditions and demands and following their agreement he must have had many an entertaining and enlightening night when, just like his father, he watched a black cock fucking his wife.

In retrospect, we weren't surprised at his attitude and his respect and acceptance of his wife's ideas of marriage. Jorge had been bought up in a household where his mother frequently 'entertained' her own black visitors and he had seen how his father was totally compliant so such an arrangement was not alien to his outlook on life. However, what was a little bizarre to his parent's way of thinking was to learn after they wed that Abedi's current lover, a big guy by the name of Manu, went on the honeymoon with them to share the marriage bed and that Jorge had to sleep on the couch and observe and play with himself as he watched his new wife enjoying the nuptials from a distance!

It took us a little while to absorb and come to terms with how they conducted their 'marital affairs' but they seemed supremely happy with their arrangements and, at the end of the day, as his parents had already given Jorge two black step-brothers, who were we to judge? Our acceptance of their relationship was further strengthened when they announced a couple of months after the honeymoon that Abebi was pregnant. Clearly, from what Jorge told us, we knew he wasn't the father and it was no surprise when a few months later she gave birth to a lovely little black baby who they named Abeo. We assumed that he had been sired by Manu who by the time of the birth had already gone back to his home in Nigeria never to be heard of again.

Ah yes, by the time of Abebi giving birth we already had two little babies of our own. Dr. Obi had been living with us for a couple of years and had impregnated Karen as intended when he had been invited to fuck my wife. He fulfilled his natural instinct as a black man to seal his dominance over her (and me) by proving his virility; Karen, well she just had an overwhelming urge to be a mother once more before menopause kicked in and with the reality of me being unable to perform there was no other solution.

In truth, there was much more to Karen becoming pregnant than just the simple act of encouraging another man's sperm to fertilise one of her diminishing supply of eggs. She had always been a lover of black cock and had plenty of experience to know how much nicer it was to be fucked by a better endowed black African than me.

For me, to watch her being taken on our marriage bed was pure pleasure for I knew that I was useless as a performer, always had been. What with my predilection to being humiliated by a dominatrix mistress which stemmed from my days before I married and a service which Karen was unable (unwilling?) to provide to the same level meant that sexual fulfilment was always going to be a disappointment. Couple that to a combination of my small dick and unstoppable premature ejaculations little wonder that with her almost insatiable sex drive she preferred to find someone more capable. And now, on top of everything else, my role as a provider of potent sperm had been taken away following the diagnosis of testicular cancer and the castration which removed my balls.

To explain the situation in that way sounds as if there was some regret on my part but this really wasn't the case. I had never truly enjoyed the role of being an 'impregnator' as my upbringing under the tutelage of my mistresses had firmly implanted in me a sense of inadequacy and that I was unworthy of providing the gift. Put aside the fact that I had succeeded twice in creating life and that there were two healthy children to prove it, I was never happier when I could sit to one side and wank my little dick as I watched my wife being fucked by another better endowed man. To see a fat black cock thrusting into her unprotected white pussy was heaven indeed and I gave her every encouragement to satisfy both our needs.

When Dr. Obi came to stay as a lodger it was the solution to fulfilling all our desires. There was never any question of romance or a transfer of affections away from me, she just wanted to have regular sex with a reliable source; Obi was willing and able to provide her with babies with no attendant responsibilities or strings attached; I was more than satisfied to be 'allowed' to watch and stroke myself to orgasm. 'What's not to like?' I believe is the expression.

My only regret nowadays is that following my castration that I can no longer get an erection and although I am still invited to clean up after Obi has had his way with her there is no evidence on my part that the duty is exciting me … but in my mind, it does, even though the limp dick between my legs indicates otherwise.

Which brings us to the present day. We have two fine healthy little black boys who we love dearly. It makes not a jot of difference to me that they were fathered by someone else and, curiously, it has been accepted by all of our friends and acquaintances that these lovely boys are not biologically mine. Indeed, it is obvious to most who the father must be and this is emphasised when each Sunday we all go as a ******, Obi included, to attend the morning service at our local church. God's gift, pure and simple, is what I call our little boys.

And my pleasure does not cease there for daily I am frequently treated to another sight that thrills me, that of seeing Karen's bare breasts as she suckles and nurses both of our children. Karen's tits have always been a fascination for me (and she knows it) and it has been my delight as she's grown older and, dare I say (without incurring her wrath!) a little heavier that her tits have similarly filled out. I have lost count of the number of times I have wanked myself to ecstasy as she has allowed me to touch and caress those magnificent globes tipped with stiff nipples or over the past few years when I have observed how they sway and swing as Obi or his predecessors have fucked her doggy fashion. It makes me shudder with delight whenever I recall that scene, especially to know it was one of those fuckings which made her pregnant for the third time with his potent seed.

Now, we have moved into a new phase and I cannot express just how thrilling it is to sit opposite her as she sits bare-chested and for me to watch her suckling our dear children in the knowledge that when they are satisfied I'll be getting 'my turn' and at her insistence.

Since becoming pregnant with a third baby she has become, how can one put it, over-productive and, for her, extremely uncomfortable not to have expressed all of her milk when the boys have had their fill. Now Karen let's me finish the job, so to speak, and I am in a new kind of heaven when she invites me to lay my head on her lap and for her to guide those dripping nipples to my open mouth and encourages me to drain her dry. For me it is sheer contentment to be sucking on her gorgeous globes and at the same time to feel her hand softly caressing my limp dick. She knows me so well.

Can life be any better? Well, actually, on occasion it can be and that is when Abebi and Jorge visit. Abebi continues to be just as fertile as Karen and she shares my wife's desire to have babies which has now been satisfied by them having two boys and, with her third pregnancy, a beautiful ********. She is likewise breastfeeding her children and with the openness that exists within our ****** there is no reluctance on her part to do as Karen does and to feed her babies in full view of me and Jorge as we sit opposite. What a sight they make, Karen and her large white tits dribbling her milk from those prominent nipples with Abebi sitting close by with her equally big but black breasts ******* for me, the passionate 'tit man', to gaze upon.

During the day I have the pleasure of sitting opposite Karen and Abebi who sit on the sofa feeding the babes. I would be hard pressed to say who has the bigger boobs but I could see for sure that my wife has the plumpest nipples. The only other observation I have is that when they stand up to tuck everything back into place my wife's drooped a lot lower that Abebi's. I love to see that and often find myself licking my lips. To date I haven't taken my turn in their company but given how relaxed we are with each other I'm sure they would make no objection to see me, their father, do so.

As for their new addition to the ******, they are not certain who the father might be given that even in marriage Abebi has maintained their agreement that Jorge has no sex with her but, rather, that she gets her satisfaction from regular visitors to their home who always, again at her insistence, have her to use that crude expression, bareback, i.e. unprotected sex. I would have been a little uneasy at such an arrangement what with the chance of being affected by a venereal disease or such but Jorge is totally compliant with this arrangement and I do know that he, like me, is encouraged to watch. The only difference between him and me (used to be) was that Abebi compounded their situation of him having no sex by making him wear some kind of chastity device that caged his cock. That has since changed because when they learned of my castration they agreed that it would be the ideal solution to perpetuate their agreement for Jorge to have his balls removed.

And that was the reason that they paid their last visit to us, for Jorge to be castrated. Knowing that he would have no medical reason for the job to be agreed and done by the over-stretched National Health Service, our beloved NHS, they took the word of Karen's live in lover, our Dr. Obi, that it was a simple procedure that he could carry out, albeit unofficially, in the comfort of our home. Obi had the skills and the qualifications and he assured Jorge that it would be relatively painless operation to conduct. I don't think that Jorge really had too much to say in making the decision for Abebi answered for him when the question was asked as to whether Obi should go ahead. So it was that they came and stayed with us for a long weekend and Obi took Jorge off into the bedroom where he had prepared whatever was required to remove him from the company of his healthy pair of testicles.

Obi provided the complete package, so to speak, for not only was he was able to write prescriptions for post-op painkillers but also managed to get Jorge a testosterone supplement to compensate for the loss of his balls which would normally produce the hormone to let him continue to react naturally and get an erection.

Thankfully, that was not something that I had to worry about when I had mine removed for I was at an age when such a stimulant was no longer necessary and indeed because of the cancer-related drugs I was taking would have caused me other complications. Indeed, I found that because I could no longer get spontaneous erections that I needed to spend a little time stroking myself so that I could become erect and have a wank. It all became too much bother and it didn't take too long before all I ended up not feeling pleasure but more a sense of detachment when I glanced down to see my fingers stroking up and down. A waste of effort, I concluded.

So, other than that, as I say, 'like father; like son' but there is one other thing that differs between our similar operations. I had my operation in a local day care clinic and saw nothing of the operation given I was screened off below the waist. Jorge was 'done' in the comfort of our house with us in close company. I never did see my removed testicles once they had been separated from below my cock; No such lack of evidence for Jorge as his are now in a decorative glass jar on Abebi's nightstand where they provide a constant reminder of his impotency!

Abebi told us of the delights she now has when she now squats down on his face to Queen him and once he gets an erection how she encourages him to wank. He told me that she teases him about his sperm being worthless when he eventually gets to climax because there is no sperm. He loves it and is so please that he agreed to be castrated.

Abebi's latest 'friend with benefits' has gone home to Nigeria and on their recent visit she confided in Karen that she is getting desperate for a good fuck. She said that since her boyfriend has left that she has been using Jorge's face and queening him but it's not enough; apart from missing having a stiff cock filling her up she says she also has this urge to get pregnant again.

Karen sympathised and told her that she 'knows that feeling' very well and, generous soul that she is, suggested that on their next visit, which will be Advent, that the virile Obi extend his benevolence toward Abebi and gives her an early Christmas gift what she knows will be enjoyed by both of them.

Abebi got excited at the prospect and said that she will deliberately stop taking her birth control pills so by then she will surely be fertile once more.

When Karen told me of what was planned my first thought was how uncanny that their minds work in such similar ways; my second was to point out that if Obi did succeed in impregnating her then the child would be a step-sibling to our own due to having the same father, an added factor making the proposal all the more attractive and will bring our close ****** even closer.

My own suggestion was rather than Obi attending church with us that Sunday morning to celebrate Advent that he should stay in and fuck Abebi so that they can have a trial in peace. Should they not be done by the time we have returned from church then I shall be quite happy to get on and cook lunch. I'm not sure of Jorge's intentions. I know how much he likes to attend church but will he stay at home to watch or will he be coming to the enjoy the alternative 'service' with us!

I'm betting that he will stay at home to watch and it is a perverse thought that he would be seeing the big, stiff cock that regularly fucks his mother knowing that his mum would absolutely refuse for him to be watching when Obi fucks her!

Just as I would like to watch Dr Obi fuck a grandchild into our ********-in-law George would love to see him fuck a sibling into his mother. I did try to get Karen's to agree to having our son watch Dr Obi fucking her but she went ballistic and called me a pervert. Since I have always acknowledged that I am a pervert I ask what was wrong with a son watching his mother being fucked by the guy who fathered a baby for him. It fell on deaf ears but if he does fuck a baby into Abebi I will be suggesting it again as I know that George is longing to see Dr Obi fuck his mother.

At the moment it is really just one of my less perverse thoughts but I have mentioned it jokingly to Obi in the hope that he might take the lead especially as he is great friends with both Jorge and Abebi.

His fucking a baby into Abebi is one of the many dirty thoughts that I have and I'm sure it would have been something that I would have been thinking about if I was still masturbating. Such a fantasy would be shared with others I had in the past when I was able to have an erection.

I often ran the scenario through my head and used to wank thinking of my wife being pimped out by her African bull who would make her work as a prostitute. Another frequent fantasy of mine was for her to be taken off to Africa by one of the black guys who was fucking her and then being used by him and the rest of the village. I'd like to think of Karen walking around the village wearing some sort of loin cloth with her big luscious tits flapping around.

I think that those thoughts about Karen becoming a prostitute were triggered by events that were closer to home and not so much pure fantasy. To explain.

So far, I have only made mention of Jorge and how life has panned out for him and it is remiss of me to have overlooked his sister Emilie and not relate her 'achievements' after she had left home.

As I previously mentioned, Emilie did not share her brother's academic prowess and indeed, if I am allowed to observe, she was never the 'sharpest knife in the drawer'. She grew into a lovely girl and shared with her mother the same good looks and, dare I say, the same feminine asset of large breasts. (Another wicked thought I, her father, had in mind when I used to wank!) What she lacked in her formal school education was more than made up with her being very outwardly going, having a sharp wit which attracted a wide circle of friends. She must have driven her teachers to distraction but she was a happy child and we loved her for being the person she became.

When she grew into her teenage years she became increasingly interested in boys and it was no surprise when she began to show a preference for black boys rather than the pimply youths who looked like her brother. She had always been the inquisitive child and there was no doubt that witnessing the regular visits of black men to our home and the attention they paid to her mother was a factor in her making her own choices.

We have no idea which one of the black youths took her virginity but suffice to say it happened at a relatively early age and I supposed I should have been outraged that my little girl had been defiled so young but, in a sense, I was a little envious that she had discovered the joy of sex so soon.

I didn't say much about it when we found out. I suppose my silence was due to my in-built deference to the superiority of the 'female of the species' but Karen was more understanding given her own similar coming of age. I think she was also pleased that her ******** shared her preference for black cock and that led to her just having a motherly chat with her and advising Emilie on the ways of being careful. So it was for the next couple of years before she left school that we were treated to a string of new friends, all older than her and always black, calling for her and they would either disappear into her bedroom for the evening or be taking her out to go and do whatever it is that teenagers do when they are out of sight of their parents. Which either location was chosen there was no doubting what the 'whatever' involved.

When she left school it was to her credit that, even though she hadn't covered herself in glory as far as academic achievement was concerned, she found herself a good job as a veterinarian assistant which, had she stayed, would lead to her becoming a qualified nurse. We were pleased for her, especially given her love for animals, that she had done well. We had no misgivings when she announced that she was moving out to go and share a flat with a friend and thought that we, as parents, had done the best job we could have done setting her up on the road to adulthood.

It was a few years later that we found out the reality of her situation. The friend turned out to be one of the not-so-young men who had visited us when she was still at home and it turned out that he had been pimping her out!

The veterinarian job had been abandoned sometime along the line on the promise from the boyfriend, Ade was his name, that she didn't need to work because he 'earned' enough money to keep them both. Trusting soul that she has always been, she believed him and settled down to keeping house for him, enjoying a fairly full social life which included paying visits to his many friends.

Ade was quite sneaky about it seems because in the beginning he told her that the guys were his friends and that he'd told them of her love of black cock and indicated that if they played their cards right that they could fuck her. She didn't want to disappoint him and would always agree to go off to the bedroom with whoever it was they were visiting and let the guy fuck her for as long as he wanted.

She did it, she said, because as far as she was concerned she was just going to meet up with one of his friends and that she was going to have sex with him so as to return a favour that the guy had done for her boyfriend. Often she would be sent over to the address on her own as Ade inconveniently had somewhere else to be. It was several months before the truth dawned on her that she was being pimped out when one of the guys offered her a tip as she was about to leave and go back to their flat! As he gave her the money he let on he'd paid her boyfriend to send her over to have sex with him.

She told me that she'd been upset that she'd been tricked into meeting guys who were paying for sex but that after talking to Ade she understood why he's not said anything and he persuaded her that it didn't affect their relationship and that it allowed him to buy her all of the nice presents he'd given her. I was not there when they had this conversation (obviously!) but it seems she was agreed to carry on and told us that she loved how passionate he was she got home and handed over the money to him.

I'm still not sure as to how the Ade managed to sweet talk her into carrying on but I do know that she told Karen about how wonderful he was to her, how he lavished her with gifts (he could afford to be if he was being paid by the guys who wanted to fuck her) and how it was nothing and it was the least she could do to help him with their living expenses.

We didn't see any point in saying too much because she was obviously besotted by him and we had the feeling that it would just turn her against us. I don't think any parent wants their ******** to be a prostitute but she seem to be happy so it was something we just had to accept. At some point I pointed out to Karen that she'd been doing much the same things with black guys over the years with the only difference she'd received no payment for it. (I didn't want to dwell on how much money we might have made if we had been a little more business-aware!)

So it was that Emilie found her true vocation in life.

She stayed with Ade for a couple of years plying her trade but then she discovered that she was not the only girl he had working for her and, perversely, she felt he had betrayed their friendship. Ade had thought he was very much in control but she didn't see it quite that way and she cut him off. However, it all ended very well for Ade had already decided to go back home to Nigeria and a cousin of his took over the tenancy of the flat which allowed her to stay put.

Emilie got herself a regular part-time job as an admin assistant in an office close to where she was living but with her love for black cock and the knowledge of how to get it, resourceful girl that she is, from her experiences in working the area she latched on to some Albanian guy who owned a brothel in Earls Court. In next to no time he had her working a patch on Sussex Gardens which coincidentally is just around the corner from where we live.

So in some respects life has come full circle and our little girl is now working close to home. We often see her during her business hours and I have to smile when I visit our church and see the evidence of a used condom that suggests she has turned a trick with some guy who has paid for a quicky in the grounds of St James's Church of which I am a member of the Church Council.

At our meetings the subject of girls using the churchyard for sex and littering the place with used condoms is sometimes discussed and new flood lights were eventually installed to discourage them. I just hope that none of the other members know that my ******** Emilie was one of the girls they were attempting to discourage. Indeed, they would also be ******* that the girls appreciated the new lighting because it made them feel safer and a lot easier to see when they were counting the money!

The cousin, Obe, with whom she shares her flat isn't completely involved with her line of business but he had his uses for he is a qualified accountant and Emilie who now had the status of being a 'self-employed adult worker' has him do her accounts for her. She says that she hands over all of the money to Oba who banks it and with their combined salaries they both enjoy the lavish life-style that they are able to afford.

We both like Oba but when they both come to visit we never discuss Emilie's work when he is around. When she does come on her own, that is quite a different matter, and we are entertained with her accounts of just how she does earn her money. She tells us that the only white guys she's done it with have been at work in her regular office job whom she lets give her 'ex-gratia' payments. She says that she has several regulars in her 'other job', white guys, who love the fact that she lives with a guy from Nigeria. I really just don't get it that they pay £400 for her to sit on their faces so that they can masturbate while they tongue her pussy as she tells them about Oba and his big black cock fucking her.

According to Emma working as a prostitute is such easy money!


I can understand that a white guy would find it exciting to have a beautiful girl with big tits sitting on his face and be told of a black cock fucking the cunt he was licking and sucking. God knows, I have witnessed and wanked to that scenario often enough myself; whether I would be prepared to pay that much money is another matter!

Nowadays, since being castrated, I get my excitements in much less dramatic fashions. Apart from observing the regular fucking that Karen receives from Dr. Obi (which I continue to love seeing) there is the delight of seeing Karen open the flaps on her nursing bras, displaying her tits and feeding our babies, a sight made especially enjoyable when she might be sharing the couch with Abebi doing the same with her two babies. Neither of them are the slightest bit self-conscious to have me sitting there watching and Karen has even mentioned and sympathised with me of what a shame it is that I can longer get an erection and have a wank whilst she is showing me those wonderful breasts.

However, there is one thing that since being castrated has given me the greatest satisfaction and delight, that is the ability to wear ladies underwear to the best advantage. Since my days before I was married of being under the spell of my Dominatrix, 'Sister Contrary' (who always dressed like a Nun) I have always had a penchant for wearing ladies panties, something she ordered me to do. As a consequence of being made to humiliate myself in this fashion some of my most enjoyable masturbations have occurred when I could wank my stiff cock sticking out from beneath the lacey trim around the leg openings of my panties. I guess that feeling of relief stemmed from Sister Contrary letting me finally have an orgasm at the end of our sessions together. Since those days that has stuck in my mind and I have always associated wearing women's underwear with being allowed to masturbate.

But whilst I always took a perverse delight in dressing myself so, even I had to admit that before and after my wank it would look a little odd to have a nasty looking bulge at the front of the panties. After I had been castrated there was no such problem, for having no balls to cause the bulge I was able to tuck my limp little winkey between my legs and with the panties pulled up into place it looked as smooth as if I was a lady. My only regret is that I am now unable to wank.

But, reasons to be cheerful, I now get the most delightful Christmas presents. After we had been to the Christmas moring service at our church we all sat around in the sitting room and opened our gifts. Apart from the usual selection of toiletries, handkerchiefs and chocolates (I'm meant to be on a diet so I'm not sure why Emile thought that was a good idea) the star of my Christmas stocking has been the four pairs of red panties that Karen brought for me. She says that the colour is 'raspberry' and they have very pretty lace panels. I suspect they were very expensive and totally different to my usual choice of white cotton panties that M&S sell but they looked gorgeous and I was so pleased and touched by her thoughtfulness.

Karen didn't say how much they cost but as they came bearing a label of the lingerie firm that she favours I knew they were not cheap. Whilst she refused to say what she had spent she did insist that she wanted everyone to see them so I went to the bathroom to try them on. I must admit that they do look very pretty and with my winkey tucked between my thighs everyone seemed to like the look.

Thankfully Karen was the only one who gave me such an intimate gift and it was a little embarrassing that she got me to model it to the others but I have to say though that having worn them that the panties are really comfortable. I think it must be the fit and not only the style and material that makes them so much more expensive than my usual ones. I sometimes lament about have lost my balls because I used to like to masturbate but being able to wear such pretty underwear is a small compensation because if I'd not been castrated I would not have been able to dress in such pretty things . As I say, reasons to be cheerful.

Whilst I have physically no longer able to have any kind of penetrative sex with my wife (even if before I had been castrated she had allowed it) we do have our own special ways of making love which gives me the greatest satisfaction. Should Dr. Obi, for whatever reason, not be staying at home and I am able to claim my rightful place in marital bed Karen and I will have our usual kissing and cuddling. She allows me to play with her nipples which she says, "… you do beautifully".

Often when I am doing it 'beautifully' and she will take my hand and guide me to touch her clit which will by this time be prominently protruded from the folds of her cunt and she will have her first orgasm with me. The best times for me have been when she has been pregnant and she will pause in taking my hand downward and allow me to rub her bump and whisper a reminder that, "… it's Obi's baby inside my tummy".

In the past when I had balls and could get an erection my time with Karen in bed would stop around about this point of us playing. She would have allowed me a little while to enjoy rubbing my cock against her thigh when we were kissing and cuddling, both to arouse myself and to let her know that she still turned me on. The more I rubbed, the more excited I got and it would get to the point when she would tell me it was time for me to give up rubbing her clit and for me to head for the bathroom so that I could have a quick wank and spurt my spunk into the toilet bowl.

This is what we've done (or rather, did) and it works so well for us. We are truly in love with each other and while she may be having actual penetrative sex with Obi (or one of several hundred other guys she's done it with) it is only we two who actually have those kissing and cuddling moments that all married couples enjoy; well they do if they're in love.

We both love these moments of passion and since I've been castrated there is no rush for them to end and move to a climax. I love to be reminded that it is to her benefit that I have no balls and I also love it when she pushes my hands away, gets up and kneels to straddle me so she can smear her wet pussy against my limp cock. Although there is no way my cock is going to react she nevertheless wiggles so that her clit rubs on me and I know that is the signal that she wants me to reach up and to squeeze her hanging boobs and nipples. Again, the best times for me, is when she has been pregnant and/or is still nursing our babies and for my squeezes to cause her to express her milk. I shudder with pleasure when I recall having her squirting her life-giving milk on me as she whimpers her way through another orgasm.

Eventually she will slide off my cock and wiggle her way up towards my face. I knew what she wanted and knew that by now she was so ready for it. She would sit on my chest, push an extra pillow under my head so that my head was raised a little and then I would be positioned for her to move forward so that her pussy was perfectly aligned with my mouth. My tongue would begin to do what I knew would please her and once I had her sighing her pleasure I would reach up once more and caress those beautiful tits which were often by this time slippery with the milk that I had encouraged to flow.

As my tongue flicked over her clit and my fingers similarly flicked over those erect nipples it would take what seemed like less than a heartbeat for her to start to have yet another orgasm. I loved to have her in this position for although it might be considered I was the submissive it was also my time to show a rare bit of dominance over my wife. She would cum, usually with a shattering orgasm, almost flooding my mouth with her juices. Ordinarily I would be expected to release her but, as I say, this would be the one time when I would defy her and when she started to cum I would stop squeezing her nipples and lower my arms to lock her onto my chest. To the sounds of her protests I would carry on licking between her pussy lips and sucking on her clit which I knew was now so sensitive. She would be imploring me to stop telling me that the sensation was driving her insane but there was no way, I was in heaven and I wanted to take her there with me. (Actually, the truth was that despite her protests this is exactly how she wanted our lovemaking to end before we went off to sleep!)

So that is what occurs when Obi isn't able to stay or return to his 'home' due to him having other commitments, usually because of him being on duty at the hospital. In more ways than one I do miss him being around mainly because I regard him as being more of a friend than anything else and I do enjoy his company. He is witty, respectful toward me (with a touch of arrogance!) and, most importantly, he provides without question what Karen requires from him; that is, his fat black cock fucking babies into her.

Our friendship recently went to a new level when Karen suggested that it would cement my relationship with Obi if I indulged in 'fluffing' him before he fucked her. I had no idea what she was talking about but suspected it must be something she picked up from the internet which I know she spends an awful lot of time doing 'research' as she calls it. She explained that the term meant that the cuckolded husband (aka, me) would suck and fondle the 'Bull' to an erection before he sat back and watched his wife being fucked. She said it was a kind of symbolic act that indicated the cuckold was a willing partner and was wanting to ensure that the wife gained maximum pleasure from a cock that he had 'prepared'.

I don't know if she had discussed this with Obi before she mentioned it to me but, being the relaxed kind of guy I come to know, he made no objections when after he had already cum in her for the first time, she pushed me toward him and said, "gone on, suck him; make him big again."

I shuffled across on my knees toward his softening cock and with Karen looking on I took hold of the slimy shaft and tentatively opened my mouth and did just that, I sucked him. I don't know what was going through her mind as she watched me, perhaps she thought that she had encouraged me into doing something new or unpleasant. The truth was that it wasn't something new to me for Sister Contrary had many years previously made me do exactly the same only with her it was to suck and play with the strap-on cock that she wore, a black rubber cock that was already stiff. She used to be telling me that this was what a real man's cock looked and felt like, not like my pathetic little willy. As I sucked at Obi it was to relive those moments when she had subjected me to a similar humiliation … and I loved it.

Obi got into the game and would grunt his approval as I bought him back to fighting fitness but, in truth, I don't think my assistance was really needed as he is such a virile chap that with or without my 'help' he soon got there anyway. I'm thinking that I was really doing it for Karen's amusement and pleasure.

One thing for sure was that my attending to Obi in this fashion never went beyond my getting him hard again and although it would have been nice if he had returned the compliment by taking me I knew that there was no chance of that happening. Obi was very much a product of his traditional African upbringing and he shared and displayed an abhorrence of homosexuality. Whilst he tolerated me, a man, sucking his cock (I don't know, maybe it was something Ghanaian boys did together growing up!) there was no way I was going to feel that stiff cock being pushed into my arse. A great pity, because it was something that Sister Contrary used to do very nicely with me all those years ago.

In fact Obi never did very much beyond doing what was expected of him and that was to fuck on demand which in Karen's case was daily. He was (is) always able to perform regardless of the time of day and he is at his happiest when I am present to witness him doing so. In fact, the only thing I can recall he has specifically asked me to do was after my castration. He now likes for me to be wearing the same style of silky panties as Karen. I guess it must amuse him to be fucking his cock into her pantie-clad cunt whilst I am sitting there wearing the same sort of panties covering my smooth ladylike looking front. Perhaps he is thinking that he is doing the same to me; maybe he does have homosexual tendencies after all; I can but hope. As a friend, I wouldn't deny him.

Talking of friends, I do have a few others outside of our exclusive trio albeit that they none of them are actively involved with our unique ****** living arrangements. One of them, Edward, has been my dear acquaintance from the first day that I began work as an assistant-manager at the Coburg Hotel in Mayfair. He was my boss and mentor but, lovely man that he is, we soon became good friends. He was always aware of my 'predilections' but he never acted upon them and I certainly didn't ever actively promoted what I did in my off-duty times. What we did share was our Christian faith and I think it is Edward I should credit for introducing me to St. James church where, over the course of the past 30 years, I have become an integral part of the church fabric and am regarded as an 'Elder' with my position on the Parochial Church Council. (Ha, if only they knew what we got up to when we're not attending church!). Our friendship became so strong that 20 years later when Karen first met him she had no hesitation when I proposed that he became Jorge's Godfather when he was baptised during the Easter Service at St James's.

Given that Edward is such a devout Christian and possesses a great tolerance to his fellow man's 'indiscretions' it was no surprise that he showed no surprise when he learned of Karen meeting up with other guys. Indeed, he was unerringly accurate when he joked and teased, "So, your husband's not up to it then?!"

At the time she met him Edward was recently divorced and since then we both know that he has had several girlfriends. Now he is older he just has the one and we understand from the conversations we've had that these days he has to use Viagra so clearly he is able, unlike me, to get an erection and to quote his words, 'able to get it up'.

Edward has just spent a weekend visit with us. He came up from the country at my invitation so that we might attend a home match by my favourite football team (I'll not mention who for fear of alienating fans of other teams!) As usual we made it a complete weekend by wining and dining him and also paying a visit to a concert.

Edward is quite conversant with our ****** arrangements and expresses no surprise come the time for us to retire. He is always put up in the guestroom and if is the case that our lodger is at home, he knows that Obi will be sleeping with Karen whilst I will go and sleep on the sofa in the living room. I am of course quite happy to do so because it means if the door to the master bedroom is left open that I am able to watch them from the comfort of my own bed.

When I took Edward to the railway station on Monday morning he thanked me in his usual jovial fashion for having given him another lovely weekend. He made mention that he had been woken early that morning by the sounds coming through the bedroom walls of Obi who was clearly and loudly fucking Karen. He said that he was reminded of the times when we were working at the Coburg and how we used to find empty bedroom next door to young (and not so young) couples and could listen to the same sounds as some bride was being fucked by her partner. I smiled at the reminder and recalled that Edward did indeed have a bit of a reputation for being a bit of a voyeur.

I didn't say anything as I saw him onto his train but I decided that on his next visit I will let him have the settee to sleep on so that he can indulge in his voyeuristic pleasures. I'll not tell Karen of my intention, she'll be embarrassed, but I'm sure but I would like to think of Edward having a satisfying wank as he watches my wife being pleasured by Obi's big black cock.

Edward confessed to me just before his train pulled out that he is thinking of asking his girlfriend to marry him. I said that it was a bit late in the day, at his time of life, to be doing that and jokingly asked if he would be taking my marriage as the model to be followed.

He smiled and said, "Oh no, what you and Karen have is a whole new ball game."