I sat in a chair in the living room breathing heavily after another failed attempt at sex with my wife Kelly. My weight had gotten too much over the past year. Kelly was thirty-eight, and I was forty-two, and for the past year, our sex had devolved into rare, awkward attempts that ended with her disappointed sighs and my embarrassment.
I knew she needed more. We’d been talking about it for months. And then a slightly crazy idea came to us somehow. A single black man lived next door to us. He was about fifty, recently divorced, fit, and graying at the temples. He worked in construction, his arms were strong and firm. Plus, he was always so confident.
Kelly had said before that he looked at her like he wanted to fuck her. I knew this, because my wife is a real PAWG beauty with a big ass. She dresses sexy and always looks great. The idea of having sex with another man came to us somehow unexpectedly.
It wasn’t even a sexual fantasy, but an action that would save our marriage. We thought it was somehow normal for another man to fuck Kelly while I got my weight back in order. Besides, it would be at our place, I’d know about it, and I’d try not to be jealous.
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