Excerpt for White Wife in Heat (Interracial, Cuckold Erotica) by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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White Wife in Heat

Interracial/Cuckold Erotica


Copyright 2017 Bobbi Love

Published by Bobbi Love at Smashwords




Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Other books by this author


Part One

Beth Andrews was just getting out of the shower when the doorbell rang.

Ding-dong!

"Dern it!" Beth said because she rarely cursed.

Luckily, her clothes were already laid out on the bed.

It was nothing special: just a matching purple bra and panty set she'd recently bought at Victoria's Secret with the gift card her mother had given her for her birthday. The thong had white lace trim and perfectly accentuated the roundness of her derriere. The bra had just enough support to really push out her breasts, which were full-sized, tan-skinned, with quarter-sized areolas still pink and hard from the shower.

(The detachable shower nozzle, Beth often mused, was the greatest invention of Western society. At least for a woman it was. Especially on days like today when she felt like she was going into heat like some animal.)

Ding-dong!

"Are you serious?" Beth said, already feeling her post-orgasmic glow start to fade. "Just give me a second!"

Vexed, she tossed her thick, curly hair over her shoulder. Wisps of blonde bangs were held off her face by a bandanna sweatband tied around her forehead, but she made a reflexive swipe at them too.

Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

That was when Beth realized she'd forgotten to pick out a pair of shorts. There was just a small lace tee with a scalloped hem which she hastily threw over her head and started for the door which wouldn't stop its incessant ringing.

Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

"Okay, okay!" she said to the person on the other side of the door. It had to either be Elizabeth, her sister —who had a nasty penchant for stopping by unannounced. Or it was Paul, her husband —who was always forgetting his house key. Nobody else would just be stopping by like this in the middle of the day.

Ding-dong!

"Hold your dang horses!" Beth said, throwing open the door.

Her jaw hit the floor when she saw who it was.

"Oh, hello there Ms. Andrews!" he said, a big grin already spreading across his dark and devilish face. "I hope that I didn't catch you at a bad time."

For a moment Beth Andrews was speechless.

It was JT, the janitor and handyman employed by their condominium.

Normally Beth would see JT pushing a lawn mower, or sweeping up around the industrial bins, or replacing dead light bulbs in the outside corridor. Until now JT had always seemed like a 'rough character.' But the janitor had never done anything to suggest that he was interested in Beth more than he was interested in the condo's eighty or so other residents, which were mostly young professionals.

That said, it was still pretty weird now to see the black man so close, towering over Beth's underdressed body in a way that was far too intimate for Beth's taste.

Immediately she started to tug at the end of her tee, which was unfortunately too short to reach the tops of her knees.

"Can I help you?" she said. Inwardly she was feeling slightly vulnerable and uncertain. But her expression personified the rebellious spirit of a modern woman who could always handle whatever life threw at her.

JT's smile only widened.

He seemed to actually be enjoying this moment —catching the sexy occupant off guard in her panties and T-shirt.

"Yes?" Beth said, her voice already losing some of its control.

In the threshold of the doorway, JT took another long moment to drink in the sight of the attractive white wife as she struggled to remain decent.

Beth was really regretting not finding some pants first. If only she had known! If she'd only known who was on the other side of the door! Rats!

The black janitor was tall, a few inches taller than Beth's husband who was six feet tall in leather boots. (Beth had always liked tall men. She'd always had a weakness for guys who towered over her.)

He was dark too. Very dark. JT's ebony skin was incredibly black, suggesting a sort of 'purity' in his bloodline because there was simply no way that there was any 'white blood' in his family tree.

Also, Beth couldn't help noticing that he was in relatively good shape. He wasn't fat, but he wasn't skinny either. He was just 'thick' or 'thickly built.' He had big shoulders and big traps and big arms that bulged when he tossed the plastic trash bags into the dump at the back of the complex. JT certainly had a nice body, the sort of body that most guys (white guys especially) would have to kill themselves in the gym to get. In Beth's limited experience with other races, she'd always found it funny that black guys were so athletically inclined though. All she knew was that it had something to do with genetics.

Now Beth smiled up at him; and unconsciously bit down on her lip with a little sigh.

Even his head was quite large.

JT had a big, shaven melon with a pair of dark-brown eyes that were deeply set in his head. Sometimes his eyes looked dull and lifeless as he shambled around the condo, sweeping up the debris around the front entrance. But at the moment his eyes were full of life. They were glittering with mischief as he unabashedly feasted on the sight of Beth's exposed legs and nervous demeanor.

"Can I help you?" the white wife said, this time with a bit more force and consternation in her voice.

He started nodding, his big melon bobbing up and down in what was probably meant to be a 'neighborly' expression of kindness.

(Not that a guy like that could ever afford to live in a place like this, Beth thought to herself. She wasn't sure what janitors made these days, but it probably was barely enough to pay for the maintenance fees they crammed down your throat here.)

"Hello!" she said, snapping her fingers at his face, trying to get his attention away from her lower-half.

Like a man being dragged out of a long afternoon nap, JT shook his head and frowned. "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time, ma'am."

She shook her head. "It's fine. What's up? What do you want?"

"You were taking a shower?" he said.

Beth really wished that he would stop looking at her like that —as if she was the last woman on earth and he planned to keep the human species alive one way or the other.

"Can I help you?" she said again, this time digging both of her tiny fists into her hips. Only she didn't seem to realize that this caused the floral lace at the bottom of her tee to cinch up on her waist even more, revealing even more of the smooth soft flesh of her thighs.

"Actually, I'm here to help you, miss," JT said.

"Help me?"

"Yo sink!"

Beth, using the last bit of patience she still had, waited for the lumbering black man to continue. When, after several quiet moments, he still hadn't said a peep, she spread her palms upward and said, "Our sink? What? What about our sink?"

"We got a call," JT said. "That's all I know. They told me to get my black ass over here and take a look at your sink! So, here I am! Ready to... uh ... take a look. A real good look, ma'am."

A pained smile crossed Beth's face while she silently cursed her husband. Paul was always doing things like that. He was always setting up appointments without telling her because he expected his inexhaustible wife (who was technically unemployed, but always seemed to be incredibly busy) to just deal with whatever hassle he didn't want to deal with himself. The jerk!

"Okay, okay, okay," she said, resigning herself to the situation.

JT's eyes darted over her head now, to the hallway behind her where the bathroom was located.

"I'll be as quick as poss'ble, ma'am."

"Please do," she said, keeping a wary eye on the large black janitor.

Then, just as he took a step into Beth's condo, JT couldn't resist taking one last glance at the hemline of Beth's Tee which had unfortunately ridden up enough to provide him with a decent view of the little triangle of purple satin covering her most intimate parts.

"What? What are you looking at?" she said, not with words, but with her expression which was very clear.

He raised his eyebrows at her, smiled.

When Beth realized how much of her body was on display now, she wanted to die on the spot. It was so infuriating. Humiliating too. She especially disliked the exultant twinkle in the black janitor's eyes as he acknowledged her state of undress.

Great, Beth thought. Now, thanks to this clusterfuck of a day, every time I see JT around the complex, the filthy janitor will probably be thinking of the time he saw me in my little panties. Thanks a lot, Paul!

Presently Beth looked at JT, who seemed to be suffering from some kind of temporary paralysis. "What are you waiting for?"

"For you to show me the way, ma'am."

Beth, who always tried to take a pragmatic approach to life, found herself turning and leading the black janitor down the hallway, towards the bathroom. It was only after she'd passed the living room that she realized her mistake. Oh no!

That's why he wanted her to lead the way! The crafty ol' black man!

Suddenly she realized that a good portion of her bare butt was probably on display. Beth winced. Shaking her head, she glanced over her shoulder. She was hoping that the janitor had the decency to not take advantage of her situation.

JT, however, was anything but subtle. A happy and slightly drugged look pulled the corners of his wide mouth up into a smile —a smile that Beth would always have etched in her memory. Even after she'd caught him openly ogling her behind he continued to triumphantly gawk at her, flouting common decency.

Again Beth made an attempt to pull her tee down while she opened the door. Once JT was in the bathroom he seemed reluctant to get to work. Beth, still playing the role of the congenial hostess, apologized for having to leave for a few moments. She went straight to her bedroom and locked the door. After she pulled on a pair of her baggiest jeans, she reached for the pill bottle on the night stand. It was something her husband ordered online. Beth had bad anxiety problems. Unfortunately she could already feel the tingling between her legs again.

"I feel like a teenage boy!" she thought to herself. "This has got to stop! What's wrong with me?"

Beth pulled her jeans off and started looking around for her dildo. Historically, her libido had always been healthy. But it had never been anything close to this. She couldn't believe how horny she'd been lately. What was wrong with her? Seriously? It wasn't even 2 P.M. and she'd already orgasmed three times today.

"FUCK!" said Beth, who cursed only in the worst situations.

That was when she realized she'd left the dildo in the bathroom!


Part Two

On the third floor of the office building there was a small cubicle with a solitary fern and low-hanging florescent lights. The cubicle's occupants were both men in their late twenties. Paul was white. Tyrone was black.

"Man," Tyrone said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know about this. I don't know that I can work with a motherfucker who's always smiling all day. That shit creeps me out."

Paul made a heroic attempt to assume a neutral expression, but the great joy that was radiating in his body was too much to overcome. In fact, the more he tried not to smile, the more he smiled like a fool.

"What's up, whiteboy? You win the lottery or something?"

"Something like that," Paul said, bobbing his head from side to side.

The first time Paul heard that his cubicle partner was a black guy, he wasn't against it, but at the same time, he wasn't exactly excited. But over time they seemed to get along quite well. While Paul and Tyrone had never hung out after work, they nonetheless greeted each other around the office like they were very good friends.

Tyrone sucked his teeth. "What then? What's got your damn ass so happy all the time?"


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