I grew up in a small midwest farming town. But I was no
way a farm girl. What happened was tha in high school I
became very attracted to Don, this tall, dark and hand-
some guy my age.
We began dating heavy. My mother wasn’t too keen of her
daughter dating a son of a hog farmer. But once she
learned the size of their hog production, and that his
family was the most prominent in the area, she was
okay with it.
His father being on the board of directors at the bank
didn’t hurt either. Don took me to the prom and when he
went out west to attend Ag school, I was left behind.
When he returned 4 years later, we both were surprised
neither had found anyone and began a serious
relationship. I was not ugly, but being a tall 5’9,
skinny, and somewhat of a Tomboy type, I was wild when
Don asked me to marry him.
We were married in front of his parent’s big white
farmhouse, and I was content to be a farmer’s wife. A
year later, I gave birth to our first son James, and two
years later, Shawn came into the world. Not only was
Don’s hog production the best in the state, but he landed
board of director’s positions at the bank, stock yards
and a real estate firm.
I was overjoyed, but at the same time, I felt useless, so
I went back to college and got my teacher’s degree. I
always knew Don was not much of a romantic, neither was
I, but still needed more quality cuddle time, but Do
never had time. Now allowing it to upset me, I went on
with teaching, helping his father with the hogs after
school and being a good mother.
Feeling lonely one weekend while Don was away on a bank
trip, I let some of my girlfriends talk me into attending
a all ladies night at a sports bar. I was shocked to see
male models dance and strip down to a net over their
privates. I liked good looking men as much at the next
lady, but felt a wife of a prominent man should not be in
a place like this. When one of the men was a tall black
guy, I felt cheap and left on my own.
I was glad to welcome Don home, but felt slighted again
when he announced he was off to a real estate convention
in a few days. “What about our vacation?” I asked. “James
and John are asking me. Don, do you not have any time for
your family at all?” “Becky, it will have to wait until
next year,” He said in his usual dry and arrogant tone.
No sooner had I cleared this hurdle, when Debbie called
and really floored me. “Becky, where did you go the other
night?” she said. “Remember Bobo, that handsome black
hunk? He was asking about you Becky. He asked who that
tall, short hair, foxy brunette was. I think he has the
hots for you.”
“What?” I yelled. “A black man? What kind of lady do you
think I am? I’m a married lady.”
This was so disgusting that it made me not care about
Don’s arrogant attitude. I had seen some young girls
hanging around with black guys, but me, no way. To rid
what I felt as “trash” I helped Don’s father label hogs
for sale the next day after school. The very thought made
me sick.
Don came in that evening and as usual ignored me. All he
would talk about was his board meetings. “Don, would you
like to make love tonight?” I said in a sexy voice. “The
boys are out, and it has been a long time. I could slip
into something sexy. Don, I really need you tonight,
please?”
“Becky, I have to combine wheat in the morning. Not
tonight, I’m too busy.”
“Your damn farm and elected positions,” I yelled. “Don,
do you not find me sexy anymore? You have no time for the
boys either. What will your excuse be next year? Damn, I
have to grade papers.”
“Oh Becky,” Don said with a frown. “I have a chance to be
where my grandfather was at the bank and this farm is on
the verge of being the top hog producing farm in the state.
Please understand.”
That was it. Case closed, as I fell asleep that night. I
just thought to forget it. Don had a promising career and
I was a successful teacher, so why worry about our cuddle
life. But the next night, Debbie, Martha and Tammy were
calling and talking how hot they were over this black
Bobo. I mean these were married women, with children, and
crazy over some black stripper.
They somehow sensed Don and I were fighting, and again
asked me to come to the club this weekend. I told them I
did not need to see some black guy strip to solve my
problems, but when Don was too busy to have dinner, which
I reserved Saturday night, I again was the good wife and
stayed home and graded papers. The next week, I was
moody, but occupied my mind by helping Don’s father with
the hogs after school, while he attended meeting after
meeting.
Wednesday night while driving the boys to a game, I saw
my friend’s cars at the lounge south of town. Whether out
of curiosity or depression, I stopped on the way home.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I spotted my girl
friends at Ladies Night. “Becky!” Tammy yelled. “Bobo is
next. Wait till you see him. He is so incredible. Sit
down.” Soon the place was in chaos as all cheered this
tall, lean black stripper. He was solid steel, and
everyone when wild when he came by our table and winked
at me. I felt disgusted when I told the girls it was so
sick for us to have husbands and gloating over some
black. “Oh come on Becky,” Martha yelled. “You know you
want him. Did you see that bulge in the net?”
I was so upset that I went to pick up the boys. When we
got home, I told Don he should take more interest in the
boy’s activities and he agreed. As I was helping the boys
with their homework, the phone rang and it was Tammy
saying, Bobo wanted to meet me. “He’s hot for you Becky.”
I shrugged it off and stayed home Saturday night with
Don. He paid more attention to his paper work, and I just
thought, if only Don knew a black man found me appealing.
His family once owned slaves on this very farm. He would
flip his lid. “Don, can we do something next Saturday
night?” I said. “Becky, you know I take hogs to market
next Saturday. Why don’t you do something with the
girls?”
By Saturday, I was ready too. Don and I had argued all
week, so I dressed like a teenager and went to the club
to watch the girls get excited over their black friend.
As I was preparing to leave, I heard someone call my
name.
Turning around, I saw Bobo coming toward me. “Well pretty
lady, I finally get to meet the farmer’s wife. Did the
girls tell you what I said? You are so sexy!”
“Yes, and they also should have told you I am a wife and
mother of two sons.
What do you want?” “I want you,” he said. “They also told
me farmer boy can’t make you happy, I could do
things….”
“Cut the bull,” I yelled. “I don’t need some black stud
to help my marriage. Get lost!”
When I came home, I put on a sexy night gown, hoping Don
would notice. He didn’t, but he did ask me to attend a
cattleman’s convention next week. It was a step, so I
accepted.
Coming home from school on Monday, I helped Don’s father
prepare hogs for market. Coming in the house, Bobo calls
and begins to tell me how he could fill the void in my
life. I hung up.
I felt good as Don and I drove to the convention. It was
the first time we had been together in ages. The hotel
was plush, and as usual the cattleman association went
all out. Instead of being alone and dancing with my
husband, Don kept busy talking business with everyone.
Although some of the men paid me compliments, I was so
pissed that not only did I order a scotch, but found
myself daydreaming about Bobo.
“So what if he’s black,” I thought to myself. Once things
were over and we retired to our room, Dom seem upset when
I threw myself at him.
“Good land Becky,” he said hanging up his suit. “Stop
acting like a school girl.”
Needless to say I fell asleep thinking of how Bobo wanted
me. Sure I felt a little cheap, but I also was a woman
with needs. As Don snored, I began to think about Bobo
compliments.
When we returned home, I did not mind helping my father-
in-law tag hogs after school, but I was furious when Don
announced he was also going into real estate and did not
even discus it with me. In a flash I found myself calling
Debbie to see if she was going to the club.
“You’re wanting Bobo aren’t you Becky? You’re too late,
Bobo is gone, I think he moved on to Kansas City.”
This time my rejection was to a black man, but without
asking Debbie said she would see if she could locate him.
I went on with my daily routines of being a mother,
teacher and neglected by Don.
*
A week later Tammy phoned. “I know Don is there,” she
whispered. “But Debbie located Bobo and he said to meet
him at the Kingdom Motel, room 104, Saturday night. I
envy you so much Becky.”
Saturday morning I was shaking all over, but that evening
when I told Don I was going to take the mini van and
visit Tammy, he said that was fine, he could catch up on
some paper work. I could not believe I was doing this as
I drove south of town.
When I pulled in the parking lot, I saw Bobo standing in
front of room 104 and waving to me. “Well pretty lady,”
he said. “I’m so glad you have decided to come. Don’t be
nervous, I know your husband treats you like shit. How
about some wine?”
“Skip the wine,” I said. “You are a black man who enjoys
degrading white wives like me.”
“Then why are you here pretty farmer’s wife? I know what
you want. You want what your husband can’t give you.”
“Stop it,” I yelled. “Not only am I Don’s wife, but I am
the mother of two teenage sons.”
“You stop it,” he said. “You want my big black cock as
bad as I want some over 40 white ass. I’ll make it easy,
you take off your clothes, I’ll take off mine, and we can
go from there.”
I still was in disbelief as I disrobed in the bathroom.
Soon this black man eyes were all over me. “Just what I
thought,” he said removing my bra. “A tall, slender,
short hair brunette wife with small tits, but you are
just what my big black root has been wanting. Here, lie
down Becky.”
As he removed my panties, I felt his lips, tongue and
teeth sucking my vagina and clit. I suddenly surrendered
to what Don had not done in years. “Just screw me and get
it over with,” I moaned. His cock looked like a black
hammer handle, at least a foot long. Spreading my long
legs, I let out a grunt as this huge thing broke in my
vagina. I threw my head back and clinched the bed post.
“I have been wanting this the first time I saw you,” he
said driving deeper in my tight hole. “I know the farmer
can’t satisfy the farmer’s wife. I’m going to make you
addicted to black cock.”
“Cut the crap about my husband,” I moaned. “Damn, you’re
killing me. You’re tearing me in two.”
“You’re doing okay Becky,” he said. “Here put these
pillows under your head so you can see my big black root
going in and out of your tight cunt. Can’t you feel me
ripping your belly Becky baby?”
I was too weak to speak as the pain was now subsiding. I
had never felt this good before. “I think I am going to
cum,” I said trying to catch my breath. “My tubes are
tied, if you’re wondering. Do it inside me if you want. I
know that is what you want to do. Cum inside me, I don’t
care.”
“Becky, you’re my bitch tonight,” he said as I felt his
load shooting in me. As his mouth bit my breasts, I bit
his wet shoulder and bucked to the wildest orgasm of my
life. It felt so good. “I have to be going,” I said as he
was still shooting on my navel. “It happened, I must go.”
“Don’t go Becky,” he said, rubbing his black cock in my
face. “Forget your husband and sons for one night. I know
you want to suck some chocolate, and I want some more of
your tight pussy. Okay?”
“Bobo it happened,” I said searching for my bra. “Don
thinks I am visiting a friend and my two sons are not
that much younger than you. It happened, I enjoyed it,
but it is over. Let me go.”
“Not before a farewell shower,” he said as I whined in
dismay. Soon we were in the shower as he was sucking
between my legs again. Then I did something I thought I
would never do. I knelt down and took his black erection
in my mouth. My mind was blaming Don for all this as I
sucked him. I soon found myself back on the bed as he
balled my brains out again for another hour.
“This must never happen again,” I said as Bobo was wiping
his cum off me, as I put on my bra. My car weaved as I
drove home. Don was asleep when I arrived and my sore
vagina caused me to pee every hour. Bobo’s teeth marks
were all over my sore breasts. My remorse lasted for
weeks every time I faced Don and the boys. They would
never believe I would do this with a black man and
although the scars were healing, one minute I was in
guilt, and the next, I was having wild flashes of the
great night I had spent with a black man.
At times, I felt I was addicted to black cock, but was
firm and declined Bobo’s advances when he called and
wanted me again. Nothing ever changed with Don, but I’m
not sure I would even want sex with him after the night
Bobo gave me.
As the months passed, I had strong urges for black cock
everyday. Could I be a good wife and mother and be a
slut for some black man on the side? Perhaps when
the boys went to college, I could feel a long black cock
that hurt me so much, but yet drove me off the edge?
Bobo had long since moved on, but I know it won’t be too
much of a problem to find a black stud or studs to
service a thin, tom boy, over 40 woman. I’m sure there
are many who would like doing a farmer’s wife.