They sat together on the sofa after dinner when Sandra said, “Let’s discuss me taking a lover, and your role in it.”
“Uh… okay,” Jason replied, feeling nervous. His mouth went dry, and his mind raced with worry about what this could mean for their relationship.
Sandra continued, “I want you to look through the profiles and use your skills to make sure these men meet my standards. They need to be clean, drug-free, and have no criminal record. Ideally, they’d want a weekly arrangement and be exclusive with me. I need to know their address, marital status, job, income, and if they have any criminal history. The age range should be about thirty to fifty. I’m especially attracted to older men. I have about fifteen folders from the FLR group that fit what I’m looking for. I want you to check them out carefully. Once we narrow it down, I’ll go on dates to see if there’s chemistry. Maybe you could even come up with a rating system for me. Can you do that?”
She paused, her face softening. “I know it sounds like a lot, but I need to feel both safe and excited. After everything we’ve built, I can’t risk letting someone reckless or dishonest into my life. I want this to feel safe for both of us. For me, having a plan lets me relax and enjoy myself without worrying. The structure helps.”
Sandra fell silent for a moment, her gaze drifting away as something flickered in her eyes. When she spoke again, her usual certainty faded a little. “I have to admit, part of me wonders if I can really handle all this. Sometimes I catch myself worrying about what I’m about to do, and what might change between us. There’s a tiny knot in my stomach. What if I make a mistake? What if things get out of control and we end up hurting each other? Even though this excites me, it’s also scary in ways I didn’t expect.” She gave Jason a small, almost hesitant smile. “I know I sound confident, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, too.”
Jason nodded, still trying to process everything. Disbelief and apprehension twisted inside him. He wasn’t sure what it all meant, except that he was supposed to help choose a lover for his wife. It was overwhelming, and uncertainty weighed on him.
“I’ll get the folders,” Sandra said. “You can start when you have a moment.”
A few minutes later, she returned carrying a stack of folders and placed them on the coffee table. “Draw me a bath,” she added, “and then you can begin reviewing them.”
After she left, Jason felt lost. His heart pounded as he stared at the folders on the table, knowing exactly what they were for. He picked up the first one, took a deep breath, and opened it.
Inside was a big photo of a confident-looking black man. Jason hesitated, feeling both curious and nervous as he read the details. He opened more folders, each with another attractive black man. Each time, his stomach tightened with a mix of fear and unexpected excitement. It made him question his feelings and who he was.
He felt uneasy, a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He knew black men were often stereotyped as bold lovers and well-endowed. He wondered if this would change things, feeling vulnerable and unsure about what he might discover.
He didn’t have time to dwell on it, so he headed to the bathroom. Preparing Sandra’s bath gave him something to focus on. As the tub filled with steaming water, Sandra came in, naked and relaxed, still taking his breath away. He helped her into the water, gently touching her.
“Can I wash you?” he asked.
She smiled, slow and knowing. “Yes, of course.”
As he washed her with the sponge, he leaned over and kissed her gently. She let out a soft moan. Even being close to her didn’t stop the question in his mind. He didn’t know how to bring it up.
Sandra spared him the trouble.
“You’re wondering why they’re all black,” she said.
Jason paused, sponge still in hand. “Yes,” he admitted. “That did surprise me.” It was an understatement.
Sandra gave him a gentle smile.
“First of all,” she said, her voice calm and assured, “it’s widely accepted that black men are better lovers. They possess a kind of manliness that’s lacking in many men today. That doesn’t necessarily make them better than other races in general or even husband material. There are many other qualities I value in a husband. But for a good fuck, they need to be black. It’s something I realized during my college days, where I found myself more drawn to the kind of confidence and physical presence they often embodied. It rekindled a part of me that had long been dormant, this sense of adventure and exploration that I hadn’t encountered elsewhere.”
She paused, lost in her memories. Back then, breaking her own rules made her feel both excited and unsure. It wasn’t just the thrill; she also felt vulnerable and surprised by how quickly her desires shifted. Testing her limits made her feel stronger and more at ease with herself, as if each bold step made her less insecure. Even now, thinking about those times made her long to feel alive and unashamed again. These memories made her question what she really wanted from this new plan with Jason. Was she searching for that same freedom, or trying to prove that desire and commitment could exist together in their marriage? What she knew for sure was that she missed and now wanted a big black cock again.
She looked at Jason in the foggy mirror.
“And everyone knows black men have larger cocks,” she added, letting the statement linger. “I have some experience in that area. I know that we haven’t talked about this in detail, but I dated mostly black men in college. You were one of the first white men I went out with more than once. That’s why I want black men now.” She tilted her head slightly. “It’s interesting, isn’t it, that in our FLR group, most of the women who have lovers choose black men?”
Jason felt his face get hot, embarrassment flooding him. “Uh… no, I didn’t know all that,” he said, feeling awkward and exposed. “I knew you were wild in college, but I didn’t realize it was only black men. I’ve heard the rumors about their size, too, but most white guys think that’s all they are—just rumors. Or maybe they hope so,” he added with a weak smile, trying to hide his discomfort.
Sandra studied him, her expression unreadable. “Do you have a problem with that?” she asked lightly.
“No. No, of course not,” Jason replied quickly. “I was just curious.”
“Good,” Sandra said, leaning back in the tub and closing her eyes, as Jason did his job washing her. It was a labor of love.
Jason left the bathroom so Sandra could relax. Unlike her, his mind was crowded with heavy thoughts. Jealousy, worry, and fear all fought for space, making peace feel impossible.
He stayed up far later than he had planned, searching, recording, and verifying information. Three of the fifteen candidates raised red flags. Their online presence contained inconsistencies that did not appear in the files Sandra had been given. He set those folders aside without hesitation.
Back at his computer, he started entering data for the AI to process. He knew the results would only be as good as the information he provided. Soon, the process became more detailed as he added new criteria. Some things couldn’t be checked by research alone. Sandra would have to give feedback after her dates, which complicated things. He wondered how to ask her the right questions. He couldn’t just ask, “Was he a good lover?” It needed to sound more neutral.
He stepped away to pour some coffee, trying to untangle his feelings. Frustration, confusion, and jittery anxiety surged within him. He still couldn’t believe what Sandra was doing, or that he was facilitating it. What husband supports his wife’s search for a lover? Their relationship had always been unconventional, but he never imagined it would reach this point.
He knew that many women in FLRs had other lovers, and their husbands accepted it. He’d heard stories and read about it, but he never thought Sandra would actually go through with it. It felt unreal, almost like a dream or a nightmare. They had set the rules early on: Sandra would make the final decisions about her lovers, Jason would help with research and logistics, and they both had to be completely honest. He wasn’t supposed to interfere with her choices or show jealousy, but he could share his feelings as long as it didn’t turn into criticism. Still, as he thought about the changes ahead, he realized their relationship would never be the same. Would they be able to set new boundaries, or would this new part of their relationship create a divide they couldn’t cross? The uncertainty weighed on him, leaving him with both dread and curiosity. When he saw it was three in the morning, he realized he was exhausted and needed sleep, even if his mind wouldn’t let him rest.
Jason dragged himself to the bathroom, desperate for some rest. As he brushed his teeth, he noticed that the crotch of his underwear was wet. At first, he was confused, then embarrassment and shock flooded him as he realized he had leaked pre-cum—more than just a little. He wondered, half ashamed and half bewildered, how thoughts of his wife with other men could affect him so much without him realizing it. He finished up and collapsed into bed, quickly falling into a deep but unsettled sleep.
The dreams came back, vivid and relentless.
This time, every man who showed up at the door was black. Each week, Jason greeted a new potential lover and watched Sandra leave with him. Hours later, she would come home and calmly share every detail, while Jason sat at his desk, carefully entering the information into his rating system.
But the dream didn’t stop at twelve men. They just kept coming. Soon it was every other day, then every day.
What started as a routine soon became frantic. Jason hunched over his desk, quickly recording details: their size, how hard they had sex, how big they were, how much they came, and on and on. Sandra would come home tired but glowing, her clothes rumpled, her hair messy, and smiling in a way that made his heart ache.
He would lead her to the bathroom, undress her, and prepare her bath. When he turned back, he saw semen running down her thighs, clear and fresh. Suddenly, he was on his knees, his mouth between her legs.
For the first time since he was a kid, he had a wet dream. Even though his penis couldn’t get hard inside the cage, he still climaxed.
He woke up in a cold sweat, heart beating fast, relieved it was only a dream. But as he got out of bed, the relief faded. To his shock, he realized the last part had really happened—he had climaxed in his sleep.
He quickly cleaned up and started breakfast. Unsure whether to tell Sandra, he hesitated until she entered, already dressed for work. She smiled, kissed him, and studied him. “You look like hell. Did you stay up all night?”
“No, but I didn’t go to bed until three, and then I had a hard time getting to sleep,” he said.
“Working on the list?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jason sighed, continuing to prepare breakfast.
“Good, but don’t kill yourself. We are not going to jump into this. I expect I will have to date each guy several times to find out if he is the right one. I really want to find one dependable guy, someone I can like and respect,” she said as she sat at the table and picked up the morning paper.
Her comments were casual, as if it were an everyday thing for her to take a lover. Immediately, Jason was struck by the image of black men showing up at the door every day, just like in his dream. That thought, in turn, reminded him of his indiscretion. Without thinking, he blurted, “I… uh… uh… had a… had a wet… wet dream last night.”
Sandra looked up as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What did you say?”
“I… uh… had a wet… wet dream last night,” he repeated.
A moment later, Sandra broke out laughing. She laughed so hard she struggled to catch her breath.
Jason didn’t know whether to feel relieved or terrified by her reaction.
When she finally regained control, she said, “You popped off in the bed like an adolescent, even with your little guy locked up?”
“Yes,” Jason admitted, his face beet red. “I couldn’t help it. I was asleep.”
“And you weren’t even able to get hard. That’s impressive, but it’s still a breach of our rules,” she said.
“I know. I’m so sorry,” he replied.
“Well, we’ll deal with that tonight when I get home. You know it can’t go unpunished,” she said calmly.
“I know,” he said, lowering his head, fully aware he had let her down. The truth was, even though it felt exciting in the moment, he didn’t like how he felt afterward. It wasn’t just because he had disappointed Sandra, but also because the constant adrenaline rush from being around her had faded. He was in the refractory period.
All day, Jason kept thinking about his dream and the unexpected climax. The pleasure was intense, but he still felt unsatisfied, as if some part of him was left floating in a sea of wanting and unease. The guilt ate into him, battling with a bizarre excitement he couldn’t quite comprehend. The unexplored realm of his emotions left him feeling vulnerable and raw. Was he ashamed of his desires, or was he secretly aching for something he couldn’t fully admit to himself? His mind felt a tangle of competing emotions, each contending for dominance, leaving him tired and a bit weary.
He wasn’t sure why the dream affected him so much, but the idea of his wife coming home with another man’s semen inside her excited him more than anything, which only confused him further. Jason’s inner conflict showed how fragile his carefully built image was. Deep down, his fear of losing Sandra mixed with a troubling curiosity about his own desires, creating a mix of dread and expectation. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he gave in to these feelings instead of hiding them. Would he ever have the courage to face his desires, or would he let them build up until they finally came out in his actions? The thought lingered, subtly suggesting that one day, curiosity might win out over caution. For the first time, the idea of actually embracing his desires didn’t feel impossible. He sensed a shift within himself, a tiny pull to explore this part of him and the possibilities that could unfold if he followed where it led.
When Sandra got home that evening, a bottle of wine was chilling, and water and massage oil were ready for her feet. A bouquet of flowers sat in a vase on the coffee table—a small, thoughtful gesture.
Sandra smiled as soon as she saw the flowers and massage oil. She understood it was his unspoken apology for the night before. She had thought about the incident and decided not to punish him. His hard work finding potential lovers and the fact that he couldn’t control the climax had changed her mind. Still, she was curious about his dream. With her customary grace, she took off her heels and jacket and settled in, still wearing her blouse and skirt.
She sat down on the sofa, and Jason served her a glass of wine, then sat on the floor at her feet.
“Did you have a good day?” he inquired.
“Typical,” she replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I was on my feet all day. My caseload is pretty heavy, and I keep going back and forth between the office and the courthouse. It feels like they just keep giving me more.”
“Well,” Jason offered, “you have the best winning record at the firm, and naturally, they tend to assign more work to those who are successful.”
“I know,” she chuckled. “Maybe I should lose a few cases.” She let out a soft moan as Jason started to massage her feet.
“I love the flowers,” she said, noticing a small note on the vase. She picked it up and read, “To the love of my life. I am so sorry about what happened last night. I have no explanation. I accept whatever punishment you see fit. I love you so much.”
“That’s so sweet,” she said, her voice softening. “I’ve been thinking about last night, and I’ve decided I won’t punish you.”
Jason looked up, surprised. Sandra usually didn’t let things slide. “Really?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
“Yes. You are working very hard on the list of lovers for me, and I appreciate it. However, I am curious as to what specifically made you climax.”
Jason blushed. He wanted to make something up, but he knew Sandra would see through any fabrication, and that would only upset her. Still, telling her the truth about his dream felt intensely embarrassing.
With a sigh, he finally admitted, “Uh… it was about your lovers.”
“I’m not surprised,” she responded with a knowing smile.
“Uh… like most dreams, it didn’t make much sense. You started dating guys once a week, but then it got out of hand, and you were seeing dozens of them. I was working frantically to keep up with the list,” he explained, hoping she wouldn’t ask more. But he knew better—she was an attorney, and questions were her job.
“Is that it? That doesn’t sound very sexy. In fact, it comes across as a nightmare,” she said.
Jason sighed. “It was. But then you were coming home after… uh… being fucked. And then, uh… I realized that… uh, you didn’t… hadn’t cleaned up.”
A curious expression settled on Sandra’s face, and a faint smile began to play upon her lips. “Go on.”
“Well, I was taking you to the bathroom to bathe you and… uh, I saw you had cum running down your thighs. Instead of getting in the tub, you had me get on my knees and… uh,” Jason trailed off, unable to finish. He experienced a familiar pressure building in his cage.
“And?” Sandra invited gently.
“And you made me clean you… clean you with my mouth,” Jason confessed, his voice just a whisper.
“Oh my, that is very interesting. I have read that many FLR women require their partners to clean them. I never considered that,” she said. This wasn’t true, but Jason didn’t need to know. In reality, the idea intrigued Sandra more than she wanted to admit. She was always drawn to the power dynamic in their relationship, and this new detail made her think more about control and submission. Her thoughts turned to her own desires, which she usually kept hidden, and she wondered how far they could both push these boundaries.
Jason’s face turned even redder. He felt trapped, with no way out. He stayed quiet and focused on massaging Sandra’s feet.
Sandra, ever the attorney, said, “And what else was there that turned you on?”
Jason paused but then said, “All the men were black.”
Sandra smiled and nodded, secretly pleased. His confession showed that Jason, even if he didn’t realize it, was turned on by her interest in having lovers—especially black lovers.
“So, you were excited by the fact that I had taken many black lovers, and… by the fact that I had you clean me. I like both of those things. But you obviously think that I am quite the slut,” she said.
Jason’s face turned beet red. “No, not, not at all. I mean, it was exciting, but not because you had all those lovers.”
Sandra laughed, easing Jason’s tension. “I’m just kidding. I admit that I have had a few dreams of my own. But it is more about their size and me being able to handle them,” she said.
Jason thought for a moment and said, “Do you… You know, I think you will have problems. I mean, it has been a long time.”
“I am a bit concerned by that, but as long as he is gentle, it will probably be okay. But, like they say, if you fall off a horse, you have to get right back on,” she said with a laugh.
Jason had to laugh, too. “I don’t think they were talking about having sex.”
“Maybe they were. Some of the black guys I have had were hung like horses, especially the football players,” she said.
Jason’s face grew red again. He felt his penis respond inside the cage.
Fortunately, Sandra changed the subject. “So, did you make any progress today?”
“Oh yes. I have thoroughly vetted the remaining twelve and eliminated two, so we have ten good candidates,” he reported.
Sandra thought aloud, “We might need more than that.” She didn’t really think she’d need more than twelve, but wanted to continue to tease Jason about his dream. “Maybe I should get more recommendations from our FLR group. I mean, you were thinking dozens, at least in your dream.”
Jason took a long breath, continuing to thumb through the candidates, and asked as casually as he could, “Are you going to… to fuck them all?” His face was once again aflame, and he was astounded at his own audacity in asking. It was, however, the question that hung heavily in the air.
Sandra laughed. “I don’t honestly know. I will not be fucking them on the first date. They are going to have to work for that.”
Jason had an immediate burst of relief, but it was short-lived.
Sandra added, “I was thinking that instead, I’ll probably give them blowjobs if they’re gentlemen. I want to reward them somehow. Besides, I love giving oral sex almost as much as fucking, and it’s been years since I had a nice black cock in my mouth. I used to climax when I swallowed.” As she spoke, her voice softened, and she felt both excited and nervous. It had been a long time since she let herself think about these things, and now the idea of returning to those desires was both thrilling and a little scary. She felt the old longing and some doubt, wondering if she was really ready to reclaim this part of herself. What if it didn’t feel the same, or she couldn’t find her old confidence? The feeling between them was electric, both exciting and a bit scary. Sandra steadied herself and gave Jason a small, uncertain smile. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t sure if just being bold would be enough, but she knew she had to try.
Jason’s heart tightened from her words, a blend of emotions spinning within him. He knew he should feel jealous, and part of him did, but he couldn’t deny the stir of something else—a bit of arousal—creeping in with the anxiety. The thought of Sandra with someone else cut deep, but it also caused an odd excitement. His mind raced, both dreading and anticipating what she described.
Despite everything, Jason felt his penis pulse in its cage. Sandra had often talked about how much she enjoyed this act and her willingness to do it anywhere. He pictured her doing the same thing in the back of a car.
He decided to direct the conversation in a different direction. “Uh… how are we going to work the logistics? I mean, you can’t date them all at once.”
“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think between the FLR’s evaluation and the work you have done, I doubt there’s much difference between them, so let’s just pick randomly. I’ll need to go on several dates with each of them if they pass the first test. I don’t want to rush. It could take weeks or months to get through the first group,” she said.
“Months?” Jason echoed.
“I only have so much time with my busy schedule. As I said, I want to find the perfect guy, if he’s out there. It’s not simply about looks or physical ability. I’m looking for something more, someone who can add something special to my life. That could mean a real connection on an emotional level, or sharing the kind of witty, thoughtful conversations that leave me thinking even after we part. I want to feel genuinely understood and appreciated, maybe even inspired in ways that go beyond just pleasure. We should talk more about what I think the perfect guy is,” she said.
“Do you know what you are looking for… beyond what we have identified?” Jason inquired.
“I have an idea, but let’s discuss that later. I’ll let you finish your research before we broaden the criteria.”
“Okay,” he said, as they fell silent and he returned to work, massaging her feet. Afterward, he prepared dinner and cleaned up before going back to his task of finding the right lover for her.
Jason had been working for several hours when Sandra checked in with him. She smiled at him and said, “How is it going?”
Jason looked up from the sofa and said, “Okay. I have some selected, but can you provide me with a little more detail now?”
“Yes, of course. The basics are what we’ve already talked about. He has to be handsome, a professional, and make good money. But personality is most important, and I don’t know how to judge it before going out with them. I’d like someone who’s been in a long-term relationship, or at least doesn’t jump from woman to woman. I don’t want him sleeping with lots of women currently,” she said.
Jason said, “Several of these guys are married, although they didn’t put it down on their application with your FLR group, but I checked the record.
“That rules them out since they lied,” she said. “I’m not against a married guy, but he’d have to be perfect. If they’re honest about their status, we can consider both unmarried and married and see how it goes.” She paused, thinking about her past relationships—each one full of hope and disappointment. Sometimes she worried the perfect guy didn’t exist, and she might have to settle. But she reminded herself that compromise wasn’t the same as giving up. “Anyway, we can get through that,” she said, her voice composed even as she was unsure inside.
“Okay,” he said, feeling his little caged penis pulse as it always did when she was near.
Sandra said, “Can you take a break? I’ve been thinking about all this for a couple of hours, and I am really turned on.”
“For you, always,” Jason said with a smile. He noticed she was wearing a light, short, low-cut summer dress and wondered if she had anything on underneath.
Sandra sat down on the sofa and slowly spread her legs.
Jason dropped to his knees in front of her and said, “May I eat you?”
A tender smile spread on her lips. “Of course, but just through my panties for now. We’ll save the rest for later.”
Jason didn’t need to be asked twice. As she spread her legs and her skirt slid up her thighs, he pulled her near and rested her legs on his shoulders. He took special pleasure in licking her through her panties, teasing them both and building anticipation. He loved his tongue directly on her wet lips, but licking her through her panties allowed him to do it for longer.
She let out a soft moan as his lips found the wet fabric. He tasted her, mixed with the scent of a long day. Both smells drove him wild. Soon, the lace was soaked with his saliva and her arousal. Her legs wrapped around his neck, her hips moving in time. Without direct access, he focused on her clit through the damp material, knowing the panties dulled the feeling but made her excitement build slowly.
Sandra reached down, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as the tide of her pleasure crested. In her mind, she saw herself returning from a date, already pleasured, pulling her panties back on to contain the mess and preserve the sweetness for him. The thought, mirroring Jason’s own musings from the night before, sent a powerful quake through her. She gushed juices, a torrent of liquid soaking her panties, and she heard Jason’s answering sounds of raw exhilaration. The climax was more intense than she had anticipated, yet it was not enough. She held him fast, riding through several more waves before finally releasing him.
Seeing how wet his face was, even through the thin fabric, she realized his “wet” dream had opened a Pandora’s box. She doubted it would be easy to close, even if she tried.
To Be Continued