Candy’s Dandy

by

Millie Dynamite

Jaden and I meet a few weeks after he transferred to the Naval base just outside of town. I sat on a bar stool sipping my Pappy Van Winkle when this tall African-American man in full dress uniform sat next to me. He whore captain’s bars. He possessed an air of authority. I nodded to him when perched on the next stool. He returned my nod with his own acknowledgment, in a deep voice he said, “Yo.” He spoke without looking at me.

“I’ll have bourbon, make it a shot of Evan for me,” he said to the bartender. He spoke genial enough. Still, it was an order.

“Give him a double of Pappy. Nothing too good for our servicemen,” I told the bartender. Turning to the Marine, “Just my way of saying, thanks for your service.”

“Well, sir, thank you,” he said, looking at me. “Quite generous of you.”

I merely nodded to him, continued to sip my bourbon, lost in thoughts as I studied a picture of my wife. The warmth of the booze passed over me. I felt his eyes looking at me. I glanced over at him. The Captain studied me, scrutinizing my face. After a few moments, he turned his attention to the picture in my hand. I turned and looked at him. He had a smile on his lips, he pointed at my photograph.

“She’s a real looker, sir,” he said. The sir sounded different than before, it possessed somewhat of a sneering tone.

“Yes, she is,” I said hardly noticing his tone. I continued with pride in my voice adding, “We just got back from our honeymoon.”

He licked his thick lips, reached over and took the picture from my hand, looking at the image of my wife with obvious lust in his eyes. He studied her photo for a moment, handed me the picture back. Took the Pappy and sipped it.

“Let’s move to a booth and visit,” he said.

“I don’t see…” he broke in on me.

“I said let’s move to a booth,” he repeated. “It isn’t a request, mister.” He spoke with the self-assured confidence of a man that orders men about for a living. “Give us the bottle and put it on his tab,” he told the bartender. Joe handed him the bottle, not looking to me for permission.

This man familiarity with having his way was oblivious. The marine stood, walked to a booth, turned back to me, and pointed to one side of the booth. Standing like a statue, he locked his dark eyes on me. I just sat there, I guess trying to show him I didn’t take orders.

“Here, now,” he said as he snapped his fingers. He sat down and put my bottle in the middle of the table after he refilled his glass. He didn’t look at me, He looked where he ordered me to sit. I don’t know why I immediately moved there. But rather than sit, I stood next to the booth.

The Captain turned his head to me, snapped his fingers again, pointed to the seat across from him, the scowl on his face spoke volumes sending shiver down my back.

I sat in my designated spot, meekly following the order. Sitting down across from him, I picked up the bottle, started to pour myself more. He his grabbed my wrist, the grip was firm, he twisted and pushed downward forcing me to put down the bottle.

“You don’t need more right now,” he said. “Finish what you have first.” Letting go of my wrist, he looked at me with cold, dark eyes.

I let loose of the Pappy’s, placed both hands on the table. He put his dark hand over my pale white one. A sly grin passed over his face, and he said, “Your wife is a lot younger than you.”

“Twenty-five years,” I told him with some measure of pride.

“You’ll never hold on to her if you don’t let her have some real freedom. Women are strange creatures. I figure you have one failed marriage already, maybe more.”

“Two,” I admitted. The man talked about what a young woman needs. I realized he meant to let her have lovers. Anger flared in me, “This isn’t any of your concern.”

His clutched my hand again with a vice-like grasp, the cold smile faded from his face, replaced by stern glower.

“Making it my business,” he said, I could feel a threat in his words. He released my hand picked up his drink. “Mighty fine bourbon,” his voice and attitude returned to an icy, cold detachment.

“I’m going to fuck your wife,” he said, his confidence resonated in the tone and timbre of his announcement. “How’d you like it, if I let you watch?”

“What,” I said.

“You heard me,” he said. His voices deep tones resonated in my ears. “I’m going fuck your wife. I’m willing to let you watch while I do.”

He looked at me, his face emotionless, frozen in a stern gaze. His blue marine uniform, his dark russet skin, and that dominant face combined to make me feel less. Less of man than him, less important, as if my feelings were less meaningful.

“You aren’t going to fuck my wife,” I said, my voice broke as I spoke. This man shook me, his assurance and physical presence frightened me. “You can’t have her,” I said. I felt like a boy threatening a classmate that could beat my ass without breaking a sweat. No, that isn’t it, I felt a boy confronted by man.

“You don’t mean that,” he said. “You don’t want to get hurt.” No, he didn’t threaten me. I don’t know how to explain it, the words weren’t a threat, they were a promise. He poured my glass full of the expensive liquor. “Now drink that down, rethink your position.” Turning his head, he looked at the bartender. “Hey, Joe,” he said in a loud voice, “Can I use the back room for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” he said. “But, this time, you’ll need to clean it up after your finished.”

Images ran through my brain of this Marine beating the shit out of me in the backroom of this bar. His dress uniform had ribbons and medals adorning it. He was a combat soldier, I was just an accountant. The closest I’d ever come to a fight as an adult ended in disaster as guy 20 pounds lighter than me kicked my butt…you guessed it, it was over a woman.

“So,” he said, “What’s your name?”

“Jeff, Jeff Richards,” I said.

“Well, what do you say? Want the back room or you going to just agree?”

“She’ll never let you,” I said.

“If that’s the case, no big deal,” he said. “But Jeff, ole boy, it’s her decision, not yours. You will tell her as much. Agreed?”

In my mind’s eye, I could see those big fists of his beating my face to a pulp, I nodded agreement. He told me to give him my wallet, I complied. He opened it up, went through it, taking my license out, he pulled a small notebook from his pocket, wrote down the information. Then he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Swiping here and there, he took a pick of my driver licenses, sent to a some and then called them.

“Hey, Steven, Captain Andrews here. Can you tell me if the information on the license I just sent you is accurate?” he looked over at me. His face grew stern, “Naw, nothing big, just checking him out, he had a scrap with another driver. Just want to be sure he doesn’t back out of his commitment…Oh, really, the usual then, line them up for me.”

He termintanated the connection. He returned the license to the proper folder, thumbed through my money, credit cards and the few other things in my wallet. Handing me my billfold back the man’s look softened. He reached into a pocket on the uniform and pulled out a golden cigarette case and lighter. He took a smoke out, tapped it down on the situation and then lit it. The cigarette sat between his thick lips, he sucked in the fumes and exhaled them.

“So, the first wife racking you over the coals financially?”

“No, no kids on that one and she remarried.”

“And the second one?”

“I have child support, but I can handle it,” I told him.

“What’s the new wife’s name?”

“Candy.”

“Candy’s dandy,” he said lifting his glass. He put the cork back in the bottle. “Drink up Jeff,” He glanced at his watch. Swilled down the rest of his glass. Standing he ambled to the bar and handed the bottle to the bartender. “Put it in my stock okay, Joe.” He turned to me a big smile on his face. “Let’s go to your place. I’m ready to fuck your sweet Candy bitch.”

Everyone in the bar looked at me, I felt their pity, or disgust, not sure which. The humiliation washed over me a wave. He led me out of the bar and felt like his prisoner, I heard some hushed whispers, “Pore cuckold bastard, that nigger will ruin her.”

He had me get into his car. He looked at me as he started the car. That smirking smile on his face. He looked at me, his dark eyes burned into me and felt his contempt. I knew he believed he was superior to me. He reached over and put his big paw of hand on my shoulder, squeezed till I felt a hard twinge of pain.

“It isn’t that I don’t trust you, I can spot a cuckold wan-a-be a mile away, boy.” The boy burned in my ears. “You haven’t accepted your role yet, I’m not letting you chicken out, you’ll keep the bitch, I’ll be the one fucking, that’s just the way it is.”

I want to believe he was wrong, but I didn’t. I had this sinking feeling that he found a buried desire, I feared I had always wanted this terrible thing. Both my exes had other people in their lives now, I spent hours thinking about them fucking with each other, I had wondered what it would be like to see Candy getting fucked. But not like this, this was beyond embarrassing, it degraded me to have others know what was about to happen. He’d made that announcement in a loud, commanding, and clear voice.

I didn’t want to admit to myself that she’d give into him. I hoped she’d slap his face, cuss him out and tell him to hit the road. Inside my brain, a niggling voice said, “She’ll let him do what he wants, out of fear if nothing else.”

****

Vacuuming the hall, I barely heard the door open and close. Looking up, I saw my husband standing there, he looked sad, a sadness that gave him a forlorn, lost expression. Next to him stood a Marine in his navy-blue uniform. A striking, man with dark skin, the brownest eyes, and a muscled frame that his dress blues strained to contain. I figured he might be in his early thirties.

“This is Captain Andrews,” my husband said. Looking down at the floor he moved his toe in a strange circular motion on the tile. “I brought him here to meet you.”

The Captain tossed his hat on the table next to the door and walked toward me. A big toothy grin covered the man’s face. He walked right up to me, switched off my vacuum, and pulled me away from it. Taking my arm, he led me to the living room, right in front of our fireplace.

My husband closed the door standing there watching. It was as if, his feet were in cement. He just observed us from off in a distance as this stranger guided me away from him. I know my husband would never put me danger, he is a wimp, but he would never allow anything bad to happen to me.

His sweet disposition drew me to him. Well, that and his money. I remember when we first met. It took no time at all to get use to him sitting at the bar and talking me. Once he confided in me how terrible his marriage was and how he just needed a friend, how to say it? Things just happened, even in that, I had to be the aggressor.

At business, Jeffery is ruthless, in any other thing he is passive. In the decision at home, he yields to my wishes. In the bedroom, he is submissive. All that drew me to him, and yet, I have missed a man who wanted me and showed it.

The black visitor took me in his arms, his face descended toward mine, his lips pressed against me. I put my hands on his big chest, pushing, to no avail. He kissed me, his thick lips pressed against mine, heat jumped from him to me. I continued to resist trying to stop kissing him, not wishing for our embrace to end.

I glanced over at Jeff, he stood there with this odd look on his face. When he realized I saw him, he looked away, studying the painting on the wall.

I closed my eyes, still struggling, pushing on his chest his arms. He pressed his big tongue into mouth, relentless he continued his assault on me. His hand roamed my body, I flushed with excitement as his embrace engulfed me in emotions and passion. We broke apart for a moment.

“Oh please, sir, this is wrong,” I blurted turning I looked at my husband. “Dear?” it was a question.

“It’s okay,” he said. “If you want to, I’m fine with it. If you don’t then…”

Before he finished, I turned back to the man, wrapped my arms around him and pulled him to me. All I had needed was permission. This dark taboo had burned inside me since I was a small child, fascinated with the African-American people surrounding me growing up in my bigoted home and community. The supposed wrongness of it had tempted me, the fear of my father had kept me from acting. My father was nowhere near, and my husband gave me his blessing. I believed he wanted this to happen, I was not about to question him about him being fine with it.

The fire crackled and popped as the flames inside the fireplace burned. At the same time, our passion flared. I began to undress this massive, Nubian, god. All the while, his hands tugged and pulled on my clothing. When the dress didn’t slide off my body quickly, he ripped it from me with a savage, hungry desire. We sank to the floor. He bit me, licked body here and there, and I gave in to his craving yearnings.

The order of things became a blur, hands here, lips there, our bodies entwined on the living room floor. The room had yellow glow from the light of the setting sun flooding through the big picture window at the front of the house. I felt the hard muscles of this aggressive man, my own will evaporated. He lay on his back and guided my head to his crotch. I felt my insides convulsing in mixed emotions. I stole glances at Jeff, a despondent look on his face, his tiny dick poking straight out in lose fitting golf slacks.

He liked it, my husband liked what he saw, but I know he hated it as well. He stood powerless to stop this. He had the right to terminate this strange experiment, right up to the moment he told me he didn’t mind if I fucked this man. He lost his rights to the exclusivity of my body at that point. Even if he hadn’t given me permission, I’d have sought out this man behind his back. It was better this way.

I sucked on that big black cock for such a long time. I played with the Captains massive balls as I sucked the big black knob. In truth, that was all I could get in my mouth. When those balls raised away from me, retreating a bit, I knew it was about to happen. I felt the seamen ridding up his magnificent pecker. I felt the skin of his dick rippling as his load built, as it traveled toward my mouth. It shot from his dickhead with force, much of it spurting down my throat. It filled my mouth, so much so, it leaked out and dribbled down on his belly and ran down that mahogany shaft, covering my hands in the process.

To my surprise, the fucking thing didn’t grow limp. Captian Andrews laid me down and got between my legs. His big lips pressed against my labia and his long, fat tongue snaked out running over them, exploring every fold, flicking on my clit. I had rushes of emotions as body reacted to his expert stimulus. My hips ground into his face, my back arched, and twisted from one side to the other, and I moaned in a husky voice. I felt lifted out of my body, observing us in my minds eye and the contrast of our skins pleased me artistically.

I opened my eyes, looking at Jeff, I wanted to make him feel better. Seeing him sitting in his big armchair, with his little dick clutched in his hand, I knew he enjoyed it. Again, he reinforced my permission to do this, and enjoy it. So, I let loose and became vocal giving this big black animal, let him know how good it felt. Telling him where to lick, and when to tongue fuck me. Wave after wave of orgasm passed over my body

When his big black cock pressed against the opening of my hot, wet pussy, I let out a long low hiss, as a new wave pleasure pulsed from my scorching crotch, radiating throughout my entire body. Waves of euphoria filed me, my body quaked and shook as this massive knob pressed inside me.

My jumbled emotions consumed me, and there Jeff watched us like a schoolboy blundering into his parents’ room while they fucked. His eyes were wide with amazement, a tear ran down his face. He’d turn away, in disgust, then twist back to watching. All the while, jacking off his three-inch pecker a she scrutinized our fucking like he studied for a test.

The sun went down, we keep it up, fucking by the firelight. From time to time, Jeff stood, his tiny prick peeking out of the fly of his cum stained khaki pants, he’d walked over, opened the grate and tossed a new long on the fire. Then he returned to his seat and continue with his masturbation festival. It dawned on how pathetic a worm he was, he hadn’t even tried to stop this man.

Time and again, this magnificent black stallion made love to on the floor of my husband’s and my living room. I responded each time, giving myself to his body and gave him all I had to offer. We were filled with the carnal pleasures that can only be experienced in the abonnement of everything that isn’t about the moment.

Jeff and his pleasure were no concern of mine at that time. If I felt anything for or about him, it would have to be called, disgust and dissatisfaction. He had been, and always would be, a woefully inadequate lover. I had been aware of his, pardon the pun, shortcomings. If I am honest with you, and myself, I had married him because of his weaknesses and his money. Wimpy submissive men are easy to control.

This experience, with this great, ebony, wild beast, I’d hurting Jeff’s feelings for this. Hell, if it cost me Jeff to have this type of ecstatic rhapsody, even if it was only once…so, fucking be it. Besides, I wouldn’t lose the little worm. I believe he had found what he had searched for his entire life, a release from having to try and live up to, what for him were impossible expectations.

The last fucking that we did that first night, Jeffery helped, his tender, loving way touched me. While he got nothing for his efforts, it made it so perfect I can’t put it into words. He carried for me in that way more profoundly than he had ever cared for me. I think it liberated me from needing him for just his money, or being with him just for his money. I know now that he loves me and that my happiness is all that matters to him.

****

Standing in that doorway, with Jaden beside me, I had a brutal realization. Deep inside me, in that place I don’t let anyone into, I wanted this to happen. The reasons for this are many but it comes down to one essential fact. I’m a two-time loser. I’m a loser with my women because not only because I can’t satisfy them, I don’t even like putting out the effort. I like fucking, don’t get me wrong on that, but jacking off works just as well.

Jaden looked her up down, placed his hat under his arm and nudged me with his elbow. I said nothing, he then put his hand on my shoulder, that clutching grip spurred me on to speak. “This is Captain Andrews, Candy, I brought him here to meet you.”

“Hello, Captain,” she said hesitating. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Dear, if you’re bringing home a dinner guest a little warning would be appreciated. I can make do you understand, Captain, but sometimes Jeffery is very inconsiderate.”

The captain sauntered straight to her, tossing his hat on the chair near the door as he marched to her. He loomed over her, his giant frame blocking her tiny one from my view. I wanted to run up to him and hit him. I knew that wouldn’t work. He flipped off the still running vacuum and pushed it away from her. He linked his arm and hers together and escorted her by me into our living room.

I shut the door, standing my ground, an inkling of fear lingered in my mind. That notwithstanding, I expected Candy to slap the Captains face. I wanted her to slap his face, and yet, at the same moment, I wanted to her to give in to him. I wanted to be man about this, but fear kept me in my place. I knew he wouldn’t hurt, me that was a different matter. I felt he’d beat my ass in a heartbeat.

Jaden took her in his arms, pulled to him, picking her off her feet, he kissed her. I could tell he had put his tongue into her mouth. She seemed to try resisting him, at best it would be called halfhearted. I hated seeing him kiss her, I hated that I could tell she responded to his kiss. I don’t know, somehow, him fucking her would be less personal, less humiliating for me than this. Fucking can be just sex, where kissing is just so, intimate, so personal.

She pushed against his big chest, his arms, and looked like she struggled. Indeed, she just put on a show of resistance. It took forever for them to break the embrace. He sat her down on her feet again, smiled at her. I could see, no that isn’t right, I could sense her reluctance to break away from him. I knew, deep down inside me, I knew she’d fuck him in front of me or sneak off to do it behind my back. I’d lost this bet, he, in some dark sexual way, already owned her.

Candy kept sneaking peeks at me. Watching for my reaction, I knew she wanted permission. I could feel her slipping away from my hold, money might not be enough. If I didn’t let her do this terrible thing, this awful betrayal, she’d leave me. I turned and look at the Picasso print on the wall, I felt my life melting like all the objects in his painting. I hated that piece of shit art. I hated me pitiful excuse for manhood. Both the physical manifestation of it and my lack of internal fortitude to keep a hold of that which is mine.

She had closed her eyes when they kissed. She never did so when she kissed me. I couldn’t do anything would have her close her eyes. The only reaction I ever got when we made love was if I ate her out just right, she’d hiss like a snake.

“Oh, please, Captain, don’ you know this wrong. We’re hurting my husband, I don’t want to do that. Dear?” she said turning me.

I thought she wanted me rush over and hit the bastard. I hoped she wanted to say, Don’t do that. I cleared my head and realized none of that was what she wanted. She wanted permission. It is hard for me to put this into words, I had an intense rush of jealousy. I hated what I saw, and yet, I loved it. I could feel my prick growing to its pitiful, excited, little state. I think the ultimate humiliation was she wanted permission. No, that’s wrong, giving her permission was the worst of the degradation.

“It’s okay,” I said. “If you want to, I’m fine with it. If you don’t then…”

Before I finished the words, Candy turned back to Jaden, wrapping her arms around him, just jumped up and clutched his waist with her legs. My concerns melted away, losing all relevance. The yellow light of the setting sun glowed on their bodies. They fumbled with buttons and zippers, and he held my wife naked in his arms. His massive prick bounced in anticipation as he laid her on the floor. He then laid down on his back.

He grabbed her by her beautiful, dishwater-blonde hair, and guided her mouth to the bulbous head. She licked her lips, kissed the massive knob. Running her tongue around the head, under the helmet, and up and down that huge shaft, Candy looked like some little girl with a big sucker. Putting her beautiful face over that great dickhead, it strained her lips to cover it. He pushed her down on it, pushing back her mouth. He pushed her this way and pulled her that direction.

Always he kept the pressure on her head, pushing more of his pecker inside her mouth. Candy took in a good seven inches, with more left than she had inside her mouth, she jacked him as Candy sucked him the best she could. Seeing that big glob of pecker head bobbing her throat was so erotic. Damn thinking how that bastard dick filled her face mortified me, but she looked so happy, so enraptured, how could I be anything but pleased, I never saw her look that way for me.

At last, he pulled it out until just the prick head was in her mouth. She pumped him furiously with her tiny white hands. Big globs of cum leaked out of her mouth, then some exploded from between her mouth and his cock. It sprayed on his belly, ran down his black dick, covering her hands.

Like some greedy cum whore, she lapped it all, cleaning dickhead, pecker shaft, and ball sack before licking every drop from hands and face. She lay against his body resting, but he wasn’t done with her. His pecker didn’t shrink, didn’t soften, it stood there like a swarthy tower of stone.

With a gentle touch, he placed her on her back, spread her legs, and put his face into her crotch. For thirty minutes he munched her into one mind-blowing orgasmic explosion. She squirmed, and writhed on the floor, she made moans and groans and deep guttural sounds in her throat. Profanity slipped from her mouth as she graphically told him what a god of fucking he was.

His boner became even harder, he picked her up and laid her against the wall, holding her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around him. Candy grabbed his superior pecker, she guided his wang to her opening. Without hesitation he bucked his hips, impaling her with about four, chubby inches of pecker meat.

She let her hiss, it filled the room like a snake warning, someone, it was there. I’d never heard that hiss so loud, so charged with energy, as that moment. Jadin bucked his hips again, another four inches or more shoved inside her tiny body. Soon, he put all ten plus inches of his johnson inside her body. I imagined I heard the ripping flesh as he violated her tight little pussy.

“Man, that is some primo cunt, bro,” he said. “I told you I’d fuck your wife.”

And he did for hours he fucked her, standing sitting on the couch, and laying on the floor. He fucked her in a way I could never do. He made her feel things I could never make her feel. Fucking her like a madman, with energy that is unbelievable.

The contrast in their skin tones drove me wild. I should admit this, while I was humiliated, viewing them fucking turned me on like no bodies business. The orgasm I achieved were the most enjoyable of my life. Seeing her wedding band on her hand when she touched him, the ring of gold I gave her, glinting in the flickering firelight next to his dark skin, holy shit that’s hot. Her licking his cum off that wedding band gave me boner each time it happened.

Seeing her so happy, so vibrant and alive, fucking him like she never had fucked me. Oh, yes, it’s embarrassing. Still, she was deeply into it, actually enjoying it. While I was filled with shame, I felt more excitement sexually than ever before in my life. I know this makes me quite pathetic. Nevertheless, it is the wildest, most gratifying experience.

That last time, I mean that night the last time he fucked her, I held her hand and stroked her face as he drove that marvelous, enormous prick into her soaking twat. I never loved her more than that moment.

He was on top her, she lay face down on the couch, and he pounded her so hard the sofa nearly broke under them. I held her hand, she kept mouthing I love you. Not to him mind you, to me. He grunted, groaned made these lustful sounds as plowed her raw. But she told me she loved me. I saw it all up close the sweet on her skin, the look in her eyes, I could even feel her orgasm as her body spasmed under his rough fucking.

He finished, showered, redressed and told us to expect visitors over the weekend. Sure enough, we had enlisted men, three of them, all blacks, visit us one at a time. Its been going on for three months now and I think we are ready for this to end. We have determined to end it with Jaden this week.

****

“Yes, I think I agree with Jeff on this,” the woman said to the counselor. “I think we have an equilibrium in our lives now and can grow out of this. We have been married for six-months now, this was an adjustment phase, don’t you agree Doctor?”

The counselor scribbled on his notepad mumbling to himself. The older man looked at the couple and shook his head. Looking back at his notes he said something under his breath.

“What,” Jeff and Candy said in a rough unison.

“You don’t want to stop. Candy you’ll never enjoy fucking him,” he told Candy. “And you, Jeffery, you can’t afford to stop this activity. She’ll leave you in search of dick, real cock not that Vienna sausage you have.” His thick German accent sounded harsh as he told them the God-Awful truth. “Candy, you’ll be a street whore in a few months if you stop cuckolding him. Do you want to be a whore?”

“No,” Candy said her shaking from side to side.

“She’ll be out of your life before she is hooking,” he told Jeff. Standing he strolled toward them. He unzipped his pants and fished out a long thick uncut pecker. Jerking it lightly it stiffened as he approached her.

“Open you whore mouth,” he ordered her. Banging his cock on her mouth until she opened wide for him. Twisting a handful of hair, he jabbed his big dick inside her mouth. Candy’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“Candy is dandy,” he told Jeff as he gouged Candy’s throat with his engorged dong. He fucked her face harder than anyone ever had. Jeff felt the humiliation building, that along with a small lump in his pants that needed attention.

The session went long that day. From that point on, they attended session twice a week. The bonus was they had significant discount for the fringe benefit they provided the doctor. Jeff felt pleased at how rough the old man abused his wife. The old doctor treated her like the whore Jeff had hoped she’d be when he married her.

“Water always finds its level, so do cuck’s and whores,” the doctor told them putting them into their proper place in the natural order of things.