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Wife of the Party

by Anita Blackmann

Copyright 2018 Anita Blackmann

Published by Deadlier Than the Male Publications

All characters in this story are 18 and over.

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Table of Contents


Wife of the Party

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3


Bonus Material: A MILF Professor, Double-Blacked in Her Lecture Hall

About the Author

Other Books by Anita Blackmann

Connect With Anita Blackmann


I couldn't see it but my hands sought out his cock but only a couple of fingertips grazed it. It felt warm and hard but that was about all I could tell. Then he was rubbing it on my dripping, engorged lips, getting it good and slick. "I would have sucked it," I gasped, nearly delirious, still in the grips of my waning climax. Tarvaris grinned.

"I know," he said. All I could think from the sensations I was feeling was, That feels so biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii... Even my brain wasn't able to form the word "big" as he stuffed that fat monster black dick of his into me. Instead, I gasped, the apparently massive meat stretching and filling me in ways I had never felt before. It was more like a novelty dildo, the kind you see in the adult stores online, ridiculously large and unrealistic compared to the real thing.

Only this was the real thing!

I grabbed his bulging biceps, hanging on for dear life as he penetrated me, slowly pushing his thick black cock deeper and deeper. Every vein touched and teased the pleasure centers as they bumped along and I found my breathing going shallow, again. It was all too much, I wasn't even done with the latest orgasm and another was building fast. I opened my mouth, wide, in an attempt to catch a breath. Failing that, I lightly bit into his dark, firm chest. My entire body rumbled and I let out a long, slow, gurgling moan as I came all over his fat black dick, once again! In a moment or a minute – I don't know which – he was fucking me, using the fluctuations of my body and cunt to bury his cock to what I'm sure was the hilt...

Wife of the Party

Anita Blackmann

Chapter 1

My wedding day was something that I had dreamed of, all of my life. It was supposed to be the centerpiece of my existence. I would grow up, get my education, get married, start a career and raise a family. Very much in that order. And as the midpoint of my existence, it was supposed to be the best day of my life. And while the first half of the day certainly lived up to it and the last part definitely did, it was somewhere in the middle where all got very hinky.

That's the part where my new husband of just a couple of hours cheated on me with my maid of honor, AKA my best friend. And while you're doing that thing where you say, "ooh" or "ouch" or whatever, while tilting your head in an empathetic fashion, I'm going to tell you to save your breath. Because if it weren't for my husband doing that, I wouldn't have become the black cock slut that I am today. A bonafide Queen of Spades. And I couldn't be happier with how it all turned out.

From the time that Craig asked me to marry him and I said yes, I shifted into full-on wedding planning mode. And I suppose I could be difficult at times but there was a whole lot resting on this. Of course, the outright no-brainer of the whole thing was to ask my best friend in the whole wide world, Bethany, if she would be my maid of honor. With her and Mom by my side, I knew I could overcome just about anything.

Craig, in his infinite wisdom, pretty much stayed out of the way, agreed with pretty much everything I said and provided very good moral support. He made it to every meeting and every appointment that I made, helping me in the selection of things like the cake, the band, the location for the reception, and just about everything else that I could think of.

But even I have to admit, the last couple of weeks were pretty brutal. As the day grew closer, it seemed like there were more and more things to worry about and I'm afraid that I may have gotten testy on one or two occasions. More than once, Craig tried to get me to take a step back. "It's just wedding nerves, babe," he would say. "It will all work out." Sometimes, I would realize that he was right. Most of the time, though, his positive demeanor positively pissed me off.

And even though I didn't always seem to know when to walk away and take some time to cool off, we made it to the day, anyway. Everyone gushed over me in my full bridal regalia, Craig looked devilishly handsome in his tuxedo, the ceremony on the beach at sunset was beautiful and went off flawlessly, and the reception at the banquet hall next door kicked off in high fashion. I couldn't have been any happier.

Until, of course, I caught Bethany sucking Craig's cock.

It was a couple of hours in and we had already eaten, done the toasts and the speeches, and danced a number of dances. There was mention of cutting the cake but no one knew where Craig was. I looked around for him, hoping to spot him, but I wasn't any more successful than the rest of them. I wanted to ask Bethany if she had seen him but she was nowhere to be found, either. "I have to tinkle," I told my mom. "When Craig and Bethany get back, tell them we're going to cut the cake." At this point, it didn't strike me as odd that they were both missing at the same time.

So I made my way through the crowd, to the bathrooms. There was a line outside the ladies room. And although I was told that I could cut, I knew there was a unisex bathroom, further back. Just one big, old-school room with a toilet and a sink, and I knew that it would readily accommodate my big wedding dress. "I'm good," I told them. How ironic those words would turn out to be, less than twenty seconds later.

Someone came out of the men's room as I passed by it and although I averted my eyes, something in my peripheral struck me as not quite right, causing me to stop. I took a half-step back as the door slowly closed and gave it a better look. There, beneath the three-quarter door of the handicap stall, I saw two things: the first was a pair of black dress shoes, sticking out from the bottom of a pair of tuxedo pants. The other were the knees, calves, and high-heeled shoes of a bridesmaid.

A half smile crossed my lips – someone had hooked up at my wedding! I ran through the list of groomsmen and bridesmaids, wondering who it might be. Curiosity got the better of me and I glanced back at the line of women waiting to get into their bathroom. No one was looking, so I slipped into the men's room. Slowly, I approached the stall. It was very obvious from the sounds that someone was getting a blowjob. And although I thought it was really cool and made my juices flow, there was also something very familiar about those sounds that sort of troubled me, though I really couldn't quite put my finger on it. I put my eye up to the gap in the stall door. What I saw there, devastated me. Like I said at the beginning, it was my husband of all of two hours getting sucked off by my long-time best friend in the whole wide world!

I stumbled backward, breathless as if I'd been punched in the gut. My head spun as my world crashed around me. Suddenly, the only thought I had was that I needed air. Lots of air. Cold, crisp, fresh air. I had to get away. I slipped back into the banquet hall and my eyes quickly appraise the situation. I saw a side door and made a beeline for it. I know people were speaking to me, congratulating me, perhaps, but I couldn't hear a thing. Everything was just noise and I had to get away. I burst through the door and out into the night.

Originally, I had thought that I would stop there but once I was outside, I just kept going. I soon found myself on a serpentine sidewalk along the beach and followed it away from the noise of the party that was supposed to be for me. Soon, the crashing of the waves attracted me and I stepped into the sand and walked down to the water's edge, following it for quite some time.

I don't know how long I walked and I really can't say for certain what I was thinking, there was such a jumble of thoughts and emotions in my head and none of them were all that good. Finally, I found an isolated alcove and came across a very large log that had probably been on that beach for decades. It had been worn smooth by the elements and impressed upon me that it would be a good place to sit while I had a good cry. So that's exactly what I did.

Again, time got away from me. I was there long enough to get my tears out and to collect myself. First off, I knew I needed to get an annulment. There was no way I could stay with a cheater. Bethany would no longer be a part of my life and that really hurt. We had known each other since before I could remember. We were babies, together, for Pete's sake! Whatever happened, I would need to make a fresh start. "Maybe I should move," I muttered.

"You should move," said a deep and masculine voice, nearby. It startled me, so I looked up and saw a tall, muscular silhouette approaching. When he got close enough for me to make out more details, I could readily see that he was a young black man. "You shouldn't stay here," he said. "The tide's coming in and this alcove's about to be underwater." He reached out with his hand. "Come with me if you want to live," he said in his best, worst Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. It made me laugh, something I sorely needed, so I trusted him and took his hand and he guided me down the beach, even further away from the reception hall. But I could clearly see that what he had said was true. We had to get past the cliff whenever the waves receded, as they were already breaking against the jagged wall.

"Where's the party?" he asked. I shrugged, unable to figure out how he knew that I had been at a party. My mind had been elsewhere for the last, longest time and it took me a moment to realize that I was still in my wedding dress.

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