Guest stories

By Latexluvr

It was 2004. I had just completed the purchase of a 50 foot yacht and my business as a divorce attorney was thriving.

So many divorces, so much suffering and so many hefty legal bills were propelling me into a comfortable existence. The only problem with all this is that I started becoming bored. Bored with the hectic lifestyle, bored with clients as well as judges.

I was ready for a change and my wife, pretty as she was sensed my true unhappiness despite the appearance of success, prosperity and relative fame.

She was clearly the delinquent in the family. Delinquent in so many ways. And it is her delinquency and bohemian ways that got me ensnared in the clutches of her demoniac charm and ways.

How was she delinquent. Sleeping in. Not picking up her dishes. Not cleaning the house. Initially , I enjoyed picking up after her and she would also give me a sexy smile with promises for some hot sex some time down the road. She would always love to push to do things that I normally wouldn't do. Like beg me to go down on her just prior to an important business meeting. The result would be that I would have to scramble to work, and even sometimes show up late. Then she would call me and say to me . You re just afraid to think outside the box.

We need to re-train you to think outside the box..to change your ways..your routine and to reset your priorities. Who should be your first priority. ..she d ask me. You my darking..I would say. She would tell me that my latent fantasies to be her 24/7 slave were all BS. ..not really backed up by my actions, my schedule and that even my pussy-licking technique needed work.

When servicing her so, I would go off into some form of subspace….my mind wondering and saying to myself .. What more do I truly need..

On a trip to Jamaica (Negril) , she had me try a thing called Ganja… It s a local herb that the local Rastas sell on the beach. It hits you like a rock and you suddenly feel stupid… and say..what were we talking about. Suddenly, you lose the sense of time and somehow feel that It's okay to sit on the beach for 3 hours in relative passivity ..just watching those black girls swing their booties ..

On that same trip, she said that I should redefine my confort zone..in regards to marriage.
Ours should be an open marriage. where all that mattered really is our friendship to each other and a great amount of loyalty… She was at the time reading the story of the Mexican painter Kahlo who had exactly such a relationship with her husband and lover..Diego Rivera.

She thus pushed me to be more adventuresome. She loved looking at those curvaceous black girls and I suspected that she had a bisexual side to her personality. She loved to connect with the local Rasta boys who would entice her with promises of big bamboo and sexual nirvana. She was skeptical, cynical, logical..a bit more so than I.

One day she asked me innocently.. Does this black girl on the beach excite you. I said with relative honesty. Sure ..she s got the body of a Goddess. What's not too like? She called over the girl and said to her. What are you selling. She said . I sell those juicy mangoes.. . What else. she would say.. Well I 've got some Ganja here if you want. No she said..he s had too much ganja already. Do you have anything to spice up the sex life.

Well. said the Jamaican girl. I know this old man in the town. And he s got Ginger roots, and Shark Cartilage Powder and even a root that will give your husband a big bamboo..hihi if you know what I am saying.

My wife loved and she petted my bikini with her hand touching my hardening penis excited by what I had just heard and excited by my wife's gestures in front of this girl.
Unshy because of the Ganja, I looked the Jamaican girl into her eyes for a few nano-seconds then looked at my wife's composure and noticed that she was truly excited. Does it work on women also? ..she asked. Yes it does.. but the men they enjoy it more. ..and she gave me a wicked smile. Would you like a massage. ?. the young girl ..asked my wife or maybe one for your husband..hihi.

I sensed that my wife somehow was not so amused at her latest remark. Historically, she had been throughout our marriage , relatively possessive and jealous but the freer ways , the calm ocean breeze and the toke of Ganja had maybe loosened her up a little. Ok- she says. My husband always tells me: He wants to try everything at least once. So maybe tomorrow, after breakfast, let s meet here and take us to see the old man with the Big Bamboo medicines..or better yet..bring us a sample so that we can try it. Sure..it s only $40 US. A massage or some Ganja with that ..the young negresse enquired... No, - not today..she said. I' ll take some but I'll pay you 50% now and 50% on delivery. . Also, please bring us 2 Red Stripe beer as we are parched.

The next day, as promised the girl called Candy came back to meet us on the beach and she was well stocked with all kinds of herbs, spices and roots. My wife remitted the $20 to the young girl and the black girl took out a root out of her bag. It looked like a tree root.
I was thinking and saying to myself.. My wife can be so naïve..she just got hoodwinked out of 40$.

The back girl stayed by my wife's side and she was braiding her hair into Rasta beeds.. They were whispering and I could sense that my wife was up to some mischief. I eventually dazed off on the beach as the mix of beer, ganja, hot sex the night before and the warm breeze. When I awoke, the black girl had painted my toenails a vivid red and I admired her ample breasts and generous hips enveloped by her soft ebony skin and all was forgiven in a minute. The black girl gave me a devilish smile and said.. I' ll see at 5 o'clock at the Firefly Hotel . I must now go fetch my son at school. If I am late, the schoolteacher will be vexed with me…. For an instant, I admired her way of talking in this Ancient English and her proper manners despite her obvious poverty.

While we ate, my wife said that the girl had revealed to her a tranquil stretch of beach where you could sunbathe in the nude. I was getting tired of sitting around in wet bathing trunks and it was giving me sores. My wife had other things on her mind as I would find out later…

The Making Of A Slave 2