My Wife’s Trainer 1
One afternoon my wife Amy came home from work angry and near tears. Without speaking she got a garbage bag out and started to throw all the junk food in the house away. As she worked I noticed the huge tear in the back of her pants.
When she was done she sat down at the table and started to cry some more. I asked her what was wrong.
“I was at work and I dropped my pen and when I bent down to get it my pants ripped, and…” she hesitated, “I farted.” I wanted to laugh but I knew not to. My wife had gained about sixty pounds since we got married five years ago. She tried weight loss programs and they worked for a while but then as soon as she was off of them she gained back most of the weight, and then some.
This time she was serious though. She went back to the diet center and made terrific progress, losing the first fifty pounds in six months, but the last ten pounds would not budge. Rather than give up she asked me if we could afford a personal trainer, I told her how could we not afford one.
Pretty soon she not only made her goal but she was in better shape than when I first met her. One day I went to the park to meet her and I saw she was in a group of women working out. The trainer, Vincent, was helping her do some stretching. His powerful hands were wrapped around her calves as he pushed her knees towards her chest. I don’t know why, but that image stood in my head, it bothered me, maybe it was because another man was touching my sweaty hot wife, or maybe because he was black, I did not know.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.
I went over to them and shook his hand, he seemed like a nice guy, he even offered me a discount rate if I were to join his group.
To celebrate my wife’s weight loss and new figure we went shopping at the mall for some new outfits for her. As my wife tried on some of the outfits I could not help but notice how sexy she looked. I also treated her to a makeover at the local beauty spa.
She decided to wear one of the outfits she had bought out, a form fitting blue dress, She changed in the spa’s bathroom, When we went out through the mall to our car I noticed a lot of guys giving her looks and staring at her. She noticed that I noticed and I told her to relax that she had earned it.
That night after dinner I thought about my wife, and the trainer, and her sexy new look. I realized more men would be paying attention to her than ever and would have to live with it, men like her trainer. The thought of him touching her would not leave my mind.
The image flashed into my mind of her kissing him. To my shame I found myself both angry and somehow aroused at the same time. I tried to put it all out of my head, but the thoughts came back, and the more I tried to suppress them the stronger they returned. It was like I was daring myself to think of more and more forbidden things.
When she was out one day I was on the computer and one of the porn sites I was looking at had some interracial porn. Based on my disturbing thoughts I clicked on it but found it quite boring. It was the pro stuff, the actresses looked so blasé about it all; almost bored. Before I clicked away from the site I saw one other video and clicked on it. The wife had her hair pulled up in a ponytail and was wearing a black nightgown. Her, husband was standing on the side of the bed while she sucked on a black man’s huge cock. These people looked not like porn stars but like real people.
The scene shifted and the woman was being pounded by this guy with her husband watching and coaching her in what to do. The lighting and camera work while clear were not up to professional standards; clearly this was an actual amateur film. If real people did this, could my wife possibly do the same thing?
The thought of my wife with another man, especially the taboo thought of my wife with a black one began to excite me again. I pictured my wife in the place of the woman in the film, with her trainer banging her. I still felt somewhat ashamed but also excited.
I wondered if she would actually do it. Inside that quiet business woman was there a slut trying to get out? Would my wife lose control while being fucked by a hugely endowed black man? And could or would our marriage survive such a thing? There was clearly a risk that something could happen. But turning back to the video and watching the woman repeatedly say “Oh! Oh! Oh!” as her husband looked at her reaching heights of pleasure that he might never be able to take her to and picturing my own wife the same way, I was willing to take the risk.
But how to broach the subject became the question that needed to be answered.
One morning after a pretty strenuous morning session with my wife, powered by my hidden fantasies, I asked her if there were any men in her work out group. She told me few if any.
“That Vincent has himself a regular harem,” I joked wanting to see her reaction.
“Well I do know that he is seeing one of the girls on the side. And she is married.” I learned two things in that moment. Since I saw nothing but white women in that group Vincent did not mind having interracial sex, and that the woman being married was not a deal killer.
“He did not try anything on you, did he?”
“I think he flirted once but when he saw I was not really interested he moved on. Why are you jealous?”
I told her I wasn’t.
I was wondering how to make this whole thing move forward when an opportunity came my way. My wife was suddenly called in to work one morning by her boss. She asked me to drop off her payment to Vincent.
I realized I had been given a prime opportunity, I had to do it then or it would never happen. Nervous I went out to the park and waited until Vincent was done with the class. There were two women who seemed a bit miffed that I was taking up their time with him but I think he knew I had my wife’s payment.
“I am sorry Amy could not make it down here; you know work and all.” I said handing him the cash.
He told me it was all right that things come up. We walked back towards the parking lot as I summoned up my courage.
“I have to thank you, ever since Amy has been going to your personal training sessions she has had more energy than ever. And our… our sex life has been great… better than it has been in the past.”
He chuckled telling me I was welcome.
“The only thing is sometimes I think she needs a bit more.”
“Like what?”
“Like having another man come over and help out. Help her out.” I said awkwardly.
He chuckled and said that once he had made a pass at her and she had turned it down. “So you want to see a bull take care of your wife? That sort of party could be arranged but I want you to really think it through. Things can change. But if you want that sort of party I can arranged it. But do you think your wife could take it?” I wondered what he was talking about.
He looked left and right really quickly and peeled down his sweats to show me his cock. Even limp it was far bigger than mine. As I stared he pulled up his sweat pants.
“But how do I…”
He laughed and told me what to do. He also told me it would cost me the equivalent of three months the usual training fee. Then we talked for a minute as he told me what to do to drive my wife into his arms and onto his cock. The first thing was that I must be late the next few times that I picked her up from her workout to give them extra time to talk.
“What if she is angry at me?”
“That will only make it better.”
I did as he told me to do arriving anywhere from a few minutes late to an hour. During the time I was an hour late she called to say they were at the local coffee shop as it had started to rain. He later told me that they had talked the whole time and she seemed to really be enjoying herself.
Phase two was to get her to see how sexy she was. I surprised her with another trip to the mall for some more additions to her wardrobe. She looked so sexy I could not believe it. I even took her to shop for new lingerie promising a sexy weekend that was interrupted by a last minute “call” from my boss to come in to work for an emergency.
I made it up to her by taking her to a club a “friend” had recommended. My wife in her new tight sexy blue dress felt a little apprehensive going to the club as it seemed to have a mostly black clientele. But we were already there so we decided to go in.
The minute we went inside I could see all the guys looking her way. She clung to me a bit tighter. I encouraged her to dance with me on the dance floor. She relaxed a bit. Then I slapped my head saying I had to call work real quick My quick call turned into ten minutes. In the meantime I watched as two separate guys came up to her and hit upon her. I came back with drinks and an apology.
We got back on the floor and danced some more. Then came the tricky part, could I get her to dance with someone else? I tipped the DJ to play two of her favorite songs, then midway through the first I claimed my knee was hurting, she wanted to keep dancing and I told her to do so.