Things my Mother Taught Me - 2

It took a while for my mother to get over the loss of my father. He wasn't exactly a young man but nevertheless it was a shock when he succumbed to his cancer and to be taken from us so quickly was tragic. However, given time, get over it she did (although I suspect she still did her mourning in private) for we never saw her other than her old bubbly self whenever she visited.

Indeed, she became quite the regular visitor and it was my delight to see her and Samantha become the best of friends forever confiding and giggling together just like two schoolgirls at times. I was never allowed to hear what they were discussing or sharing but I had a good idea that my mother's preference for black cock was just one of the subjects that caused my wife's eyes to open wide in response!

I knew that Samantha always had a grudging admiration for my mother's lifestyle both past and present and I wondered if mother told of how she cuckolded my father and of his acceptance of it. I hoped that she didn't mention that she suspected, no, was sure, that I had spied on their little games. Then again, I don't think Samantha would have been surprised to have learned that for she knew me to have these voyeuristic tendencies..

Something else that had been no surprise was after my father died (and prior to me meeting Samantha) that after a respectable period of time my mother had sought ways of getting back to her old ways. She had always been the 'social animal' and when she told me that she had enrolled in her local gym and then shortly after joined a Salsa Dance club I had my suspicions that it wasn't just fitness or musical rhythm that were her main points of interest. So it proved for I was privy to a few occasions when after she had attended either one or the other that at the end of that particular session she would be bought home by her Personal Trainer or, if dance night, whoever had ended up as her dance partner. It would invariably be a black man.

I knew the drill when she arrived home. If I was in the living room when she came in I would exchange pleasantries with her companion and then make myself scarce claiming that I was tired and needed an early night. Or, as was usually the case, I would already be in my bedroom relaxing with my collection of books and magazines. Mother knew I wouldn't emerge or disturb and soon I would be able to put my magazines to one side and take up my position whereby I could move the hanging picture and peer through the small hole that I had drilled high in the wall between our bedrooms. I would stand on a chair and get a perfect view.

Mum never disappointed me. She took no time at all to slip out of whatever her outfit she was wearing, gym clothes or some dancing style of dress, and I would be treated to the sight of her beautiful tits and her hairy bush; unlike Samantha, she never did hold with the 'shaven haven' way of thinking! Dance nights were best for she would always be wearing dark stockings and a suspender belt but no panties. She would then sit on the end of her bed and if her companion hadn't already followed her example by undressing she would bid him to come closer so that she could unfasten and pull down whatever he was wearing below the waist to reveal a dark cock. I would then have to bite my lip to quench my excitement as I watched her grasp the fat shaft (and it was always a fat shaft) and if it wasn't already stiff then she would make damn sure it got that way by taking the fat plum of the glans in her mouth and begin sucking and licking the guy to an impressive erection. The position of her bed and the way she sat meant that I got a perfect view from the side so that the guy's dark cock was almost like a silhouette and I could appreciate what she meant when she had said to my father (bless him) how she needed a long black cock.

By contrast, my own was definitely white, certainly not long but it would be just as stiff. As I peered through the spy hole I had no complaints as I took myself in hand and in pace with my mother's movements I would softly wank as I watched her enjoying herself. I knew that the sucking wouldn't last long, it never did, and soon she would push the guy away from her mouth, lay back on the bed and tell him in no uncertain fashion, "just fuck me." In sympathy, I also knew that I wouldn't last long and invariably as I saw his cock part her hairy pussy lips and slide into her I would be spurting my stuff over the wall as I had a glorious orgasm to precede her own.

I don't think that she ever heard me cum, she would be making too much noise of her own to notice was my way of thinking, but after I had climaxed I would lie back on my bed and listen to the almost animal-like noises she used to make when she was 'in the zone'. Listening to the soundtrack was almost as good as actually watching for she was most explicit in her language and having seen her in action before I would close my eyes, continue to stroke my slimy wet and still-erect cock to bring myself off to another climax to accompany her own.

The most bizarre thing about these episodes was that once my mum had gained her satisfaction she would then quickly dispatch the guy and he would be shown the door. I could hear all this. After he had left mum would then come and lightly tap on my door, poke her head around and wish me a 'goodnight, sleep tight' as she had always done since I was a little boy. No other words were said but I think we both knew what was most on my mind.

This was the lady who was going to become my wife's best friend.


After we were wed I settled down to a life of domestic bliss with regular sex thrown in. Samantha was an enthusiastic partner in bed although I got it into my head that she might be a bit disappointed with my somewhat smaller dick. Whether that impression was based on experience or, as I suspected, likely to have come from conversations she had with my mother is a moot point. However, I did hint and joke from time-to-time that I wouldn't be upset if she wanted to try something more substantial. She never actually would say either yes or no; she would just give me a smile which I took as meaning she wasn't unsympathetic to the idea..

As part of my job I have to attend a lot of meetings and conferences which are often out of town affairs and require overnight stays. The conferences always have a concluding dinner with some kind of entertainment attached and as my boss doesn't like to go to them usually he sends me on the understanding that my wife comes with me to use 'his ticket'.

Samantha really enjoys these occasions. Given the circumstances most of the attendees at these events are men and her being the one of a few females, she comes in for a lot of attention. Something she shares with my mother is that she loves to do is flirt and these dinner-dances give plenty of opportunities for that. For my part she is aware that I am thinking that the banter is in good fun, nothing more, but what she doesn't know is that my thoughts when I watch her on the dance floor being groped by a drunken dance partner is I am wishing the flirting would progress to her being fucked and for me to be watching.

There was only the one time when anything of that nature might have occurred but as I wasn't in a position to see, I'm not sure that my fantasy was fulfilled. She had spent a lot of that particular evening dancing with some black guy from another company and from our table alongside the dance floor I had a perfect view of them as they danced some slow numbers and he would be sliding and smoothing his hand over her bum. I wasn't sure what his other hand was up to, it was hidden from sight somewhere between their pressed-together bodies. I could see the sparkle in her eyes as he leaned close to her and was obviously making some suggestions which, obviously with the noise of the music, was unheard by me. However, I was convinced that he must be making some invitation that appealed to her for she responded with giggles and a glance toward me that in my mind spoke volumes.

It was at the end of one dance that she left him on dance floor to go back to his own table while she came to ours to collect her handbag and say that she was off to the ladies room. I watched her make her way across the dance floor and through the throng of people who were coming to the floor for the next dance I saw her pass by his table and for him to get up and follow her. She glanced back in my direction before disappearing from view.

I knew from experience that women tend to spend an awful long time when they go to the ladies room. I can only imagine what keeps them so long, especially if they go in pairs when I guess there is gossip to share, make-up and hair to fix and who knows what else (and I have to say that I have a vivid imagination when it comes to thinking about women together!) However, on this occasion Samantha was gone an extraordinary long time and, more to the point, so was her dark companion. Eventually she did come back and unconvincingly explained that her flushed face and shallow breathing was due to her having not felt well and that she had been outside to get some fresh air. "I think it may have been a dodgy prawn" was her excuse.

We left shortly after and went back to our room. She said she was feeling a lot better after her fresh air excursion and she sent out all the signals that meant sex was on the menu to close out our evening. I sat on the bed and watched her get undressed, she knew I liked to do that, and I was bemused when she pulled up her dress over her head to see that the panties I knew she had gone out with earlier were no longer being worn. I didn't make any mention.

She came over to me to help me undress and once she had me naked pulled me onto the bed and 'demanded' that I fuck her (she also knew I liked to hear her talk dirty.) My cock was already stiff from her talk and my imagination was running riot as to why she had 'lost' her underwear.

Nothing was said as she pulled me down onto the bed so that I was laying on top of her. Her hand fumbled to find my cock and in an instant I was guided into her and I found my stiff dick swimming in her warmth; I say 'swimming' for I had never before felt her so wet. At her bidding I started to fuck her (note, fuck, not 'make love') and it took me but a few strokes to feel my climax building and for me to shoot my load to add to the juices which were squelching out of her. Although I was spent she held me close and encouraged me to push myself against her so that as I moved up and down my cum and the other moistness rubbed over her clit. This was different, usually she would be masturbating herself after I had cum, now she seemed content to keep my shrinking cock inside her. It was a lovely feeling and as she bought herself to a second orgasm I silently thanked her for making my night (and the conference visit!) a great success.

Eventually we 'disengaged' and she slid off the bed to go to the bathroom for her post-fuck clean-up. As she stood up I looked at her shaved cunt and was surprised at the amount of my cum that began to seep and flow down her leg …. then the thought struck me once more, was it all my cum; could it have been someone else's; might it have been that black guy who she had spent so much time with on the dance floor?

What a delicious thought.


After *** died, my mother became a more regular visitor to our house and, as I have mentioned, as a consequence became very good friends with Samantha. I was very happy about the situation for I loved my mum and it was a joy to see her coming out of her grief and back into the world again. There was also another aspect inasmuch my job often took me away from home and it was a comfort to know that the pair of them had each other's company whilst I was 'absent on duty'.

When I did go away there were two things that I would always do. Firstly, I would make inquiries through Google as to where there might be sights or places infamously known for Dogging activities so that my pastime of voyeurism might be satisfied. If I was successful in tracking down such a site it would not be to participate, just somewhere that I could watch from the sidelines so to speak and wank as I watched others.

The second thing was that I would always fantasise when I was in whatever hotel room was my temporary home and my mind would be filled with images and scenarios of my wife being fucked by black cocks. My 'wank fests' latterly were enhanced by introducing my mother into my erotic storyboards and I used to have (still do) the most satisfying evening laying on my bed thinking of the pair of them involved in some kind of gang bang with, once again, me hidden from their view witnessing their pleasure. It was a script that would ensure my stiff cock would soon erupt a stream of cum that would make a mess of stomach and, if I wasn't careful, my bed sheets!

Imagine then how my imagination went off the scale when Samantha announced that she had succumbed to my mum's insistent invitation to join her in becoming a member of both the gym and also her dance club that she had now resumed attendance after her mourning of my ***. Samantha mentioned as a jokey aside that mum had clinched the deal by saying there were nice young men, some of them black, at both venues that would be keen to help her become proficient in both disciplines.

Neither activities appealed to me given I have never been the great one for exercise; I find all that jumping and running about a bit pointless (albeit whenever I had been in a gym it was a delight to see female bodies in their tight revealing lycra outfits!).

As for dancing, I was well-known in our ****** for having a complete lack of rhythm and was considered to have 'two left feet'. So, there it was, they were free to go off and leave me at home and to let my mind wander over what other activities they might be following when they were in the company of those 'nice young men'.

I say, leave me at home, but that was not strictly true for neither mum or Samantha were able to drive so on gym nights or dancing club night I would have to drive them. I would drop them off at their chosen venue and the arrangement was that they would ring when they wanted collected again. On occasion I would carry their bags (there were always bags!) into the building and I was able to see just who it might be they would be spending their time with that night. My heart would give a flip if one of the black guys that she had mentioned was around at the time for I would then be able to put a face into the fantasy that would surely be imagined when I got home.

It has been the dance club that has provided me with the best fantasy to date. Samantha told me that each year they have a celebration event at a restaurant or bar when awards are given for different categories of dance, best in class sort of thing. It sounded to me as if it is all a bit of being just a fun evening with the excuse for a good meal and to dance in some place other than the old studio!

No matter what I think, I was pleased to see them go especially when Samantha came down the stairs at home all dressed up in her little black dress, short and low giving a great view of her legs and her breasts. My excitement was enhanced when we collected mum who was dressed to kill as well, a slightly longer dress but low at front showing off her heavy breasts. In my mind they both looked like sluts.

I dropped them off at the restaurant which was within walking distance of a nice bar, where I was told they were going after the meal for a few drinks and to dance.

As they were getting out I said the expected things, like, 'enjoy yourselves' … 'be good' in the hope that they would pay attention to the first but completely ignore my advice for the second! Mum gave me great hopes when she responded, "don't worry I will look after your little wife and keep her out of trouble" followed by a little laugh.

I saw the glint in her eye and bantered back, "don't try too hard … " adding, "… just have a good time and give me a call when you're ready to be picked up."

I watched them tottering along on their high heels, arm-in-arm toward the restaurant and saw a black guy greet them and for him to hold open the door for them to pass inside, he quickly followed.

As I was driving home my imagination started to kick in.

'Who was the black guy?' One of the dance club, I guessed.

'Were there other black guys already inside the restaurant waiting for them?' Without a doubt for I had already been told in no uncertain manner that the black guys who belonged to the club were great dancers. "They really know how to move," was how Samantha had put it when she came home after her first visit to the club.

'Did they have big cocks?' was my next thought. I assumed so for 'in my experience' from the Caribbean holiday when I saw my mum on the beach, all the black guys who fucked her had big cocks. I reckoned it went with being black and that's why women had a preference.

I imagined them being picked up in the restaurant or the bar by a group of men and ending up being gangbanged. Indeed, once I got home this was my fervent wish for their evening. I sat in an armchair in the living room the whole evening long stroking my cock as I thought about it.

After I had cum I fell asleep and was startled awake by the phone ringing. The clock showed it to be far later than I had expected but I have to say I was relieved to hear Samantha's voice (sounding a little bit slurry) asking to be picked up.

I told her I was 'on my way' and would see her outside the bar. She said, "No, we aren't there. We left early and went instead to a party at one of the guy's flat." I swear I heard her giggle as she told me. I certainly heard my mother's voice in the background calling out to me saying, "Yeah, and we've had a great time!"

I asked for the address which turned out to be at an apartment complex down near the harbour, a very posh part of the town. I didn't have a chance to ask what the heck they were doing down there, Sam just said, " … and hurry up please."

It took me about 60 minutes to find the place and I rang to say I was outside the apartment building. The door had a security buzzer and I pressed it which caused a shout to come from above. I looked up to see this black guy at an open window looking down, he shouted, "They'll be right down."

A few minutes they were in the car, they were both very giggly and boozed up; they had obviously had quite a bit to drink. Samantha got in alongside me and mum kind of poured herself into back seat. Wow, they were in a state but I said nothing but pleasantries as to how much had they enjoyed their evening. This caused another round of giggles.

We dropped mum off first and I went round and opened the car door for her. As she struggled to get out her legs parted and I noticed she had no panties on. She saw me looking and gave me one of her knowing smiles before she kissed me goodnight.

I was intrigued as to what they had really been up to. When we got home I asked my wife what had happened but was still insistent that nothing beyond having a nice meal, a few drinks at the bar and a little bit of dancing and then, oh yeah, these couple of guys who had been chatting them up all evening had invited them back to their flat for a nightcap. She said she really didn't want to go but mum had insisted they should.

"Then what?" I asked.

She said, "Nothing .." that when they got to the flat they had a couple of drinks and then she phoned me to come and get them. She didn't sound too sure; I wasn't convinced.

When we got into the house I noticed how dishevelled she appeared. She dismissed her appearance as being due to the energetic dancing when she had been at the bar but she took my point and said that she would go and get a shower before bed. She said the shower might also help her sober up a little!

I did my usual thing whenever we went to bed which was to watch her get undressed. She seemed to take great care to be facing away from me so I couldn't get any clues. Still facing away from me she went into the bathroom and I saw her toss her clothes in the wash basket before getting into the shower.

I followed her and heard the hot water begin running and soon the glass door was steamed up so that all could be seen was her blurry form. Reckoning that I was similarly hidden from her I went to the basket and fished out her black panties and examined them; they were very wet and just smelt of her pussy or, to be more accurate, smelt of sex!

I looked in the basket once more and then noticed her bra wasn't there. I thought that maybe she had slipped it off at the same time as when she lifted her dress over her head but, no, it definitely wasn't there. All sorts of ideas started running through my head and I realised my cock was hard and in need of some relief.

I pulled off my own clothes and went and got in the shower with her. She smiled to see me and she turned her back to me, bent over and made no protest when I slipped my hard cock into her very wet pussy. I convinced myself I was getting sloppy seconds, she was so wet.

Neither of us took very long to reach a climax and as I shot my load into her she groaned her approval telling me that I was naughty to let myself get so excited whenever she went out.

After we had dried off we got into bed and adopted our normal going-to-sleep position and we cuddled up and 'spooned' with me behind her. She commented that my cock was still hard and I told her that it was because I was still thinking about her and mum being out together with all those 'hunky' men. I think that might have been the moment when she knew that I knew that she hadn't been telling me the truth.

As we drifted off to sleep she said quietly, "Do you want me to tell you what really happened?"

My cock gave a twitch which was answer enough but I heard no more. She was softly snoring and I would have to wait until morning to hear what I hoped was going to be a confirmation of my fantasy having been fulfilled.