Kate’s Enlightenment


Hi my name is Kate and I have a story to tell you about my lifestyle change and how it changed my life. I had been married to Steve for 20 years when the first incident took place and it set in motion a chain of events I could neither have foreseen nor seemed to have any real control over once it started. Whilst living in the suburbs of London, I had a group of friends who were a mixture of single, engaged and married women, varying in ages from late 20s to 40’s like me. We often met as a group or as couples with our respective husbands or partners. Our social life was a mixture of lunches, parties, weekends and holidays with various members of the group throughout the year. We seemed to gravitate to one couple, Kirsten and Philip, in particular. Kirsten was a striking blonde beauty, she was tall, elegant and very powerful in her job with a city bank. As a confident, decisive strong-willed lady, she never failed to have an opinion on almost any topic. She had been married to Simon, who also worked in the bank, but this had ended a year before, when she had discovered that he had bedded one of the receptionists, just before their wedding. The divorce was almost complete. It had been a bitter battle and she had been cited as an adulterer in the divorce action, with her new partner, Philip. Philip was working as a contractor in the IT department of the bank and he and Kirsten had embarked upon a torrid affair, initiated originally by Philip’s pursuit of Kirsten with flirting and periods of sexual innuendo in the office and also at staff social gatherings. This had quickly evolved and each was as blatant as the other after a few weeks. One night, Kirsten had been working late at the bank and had called IT to report a computer fault, for which she required immediate rectification, in order to continue with her work. Philip had been the on-call engineer and had gone to Kirsten’s office to assist. Kirsten confirmed to me later that, as Philip had worked on her computer, she had experienced very strong lustful desires while watching him from her seat at the side of her desk. She could sense him becoming aroused as her silk nylons had swished and crackled when she shifted her legs to clamp her pussy, as she too became more and more aroused. When I asked her what had finally burst the dam of lust she had been storing up for months, she told me that it was the realisation that for the first time they were alone together, in familiar surroundings where she felt comfortable and that the time was “just right.” She felt that the stars had aligned to offer her this opportunity and her body was not going to be denied. As she put it crudely,” Fuck’s sake, Kate, we have been practically humping each other visually now for months and it was going to happen sooner or later.” She cared not one iota at that moment – as she hitched her short skirt up, exposed her sheer nylon stockings and matching blue silk knickers and huskily breathed, “Philip” – that she was about to cheat on her husband and start a scandalous affair with the gorgeously suave and much sought-after black man. She confided later that not only was he “hung like a donkey” but that Philip was an attentive, generous and kind companion. He was single, well paid, extremely good looking and seeking nothing in the way of commitment, marriage or even the beginnings of a long term, formal relationship. He was happy fucking the brains out of the gorgeous, blond, married white bitch who was so uppity around the office but who swore and creamed up like a cheap whore whenever he laid his big hands on her pale, milky skin. She was hooked on his colour and his very, very large dick. And she just loved the situation the way it was. This led her to discussing Philip’s merits with me one night, as we sipped cocktails in an expensive wine bar in Kensington. “How’s the divorce proceeding?” I had enquired. “Oh Simon is being fucking awkward gaziantep suriyeli escort as usual” she said dismissively. I couldn’t help feeling just a little sorry for Simon, whose life had been turned on its head when she had informed him that she was leaving him for her new “boyfriend”. His indiscretion had been before marriage, her revenge had been almost calculated in its intensity and also the choice of the black and powerful Philip had only rubbed salt in Simon’s considerable wounds. Especially when Kirsten had informed him that “Philip had touched her in places Simon couldn’t reach with his arm”. My god, what a bitch! “He’s quibbling about the cars and the pension contributions. As far as I care, he can have them, just as long as he gets out of the house and agrees to the split the way I have suggested it be” she groaned in a very “couldn’t be doing with all this hassle” attitude. “I just want him out so that Philip and I can begin using the place. As much as I like going to Philip’s apartment, I really would like to get him into my big king-sized bed and have him do me where Simon used to. “Why did you choose Philip to exact your revenge on Simon?” I asked. “Are you kidding me?” she replied. “He couldn’t be any more different from Simon. I mean, looks, colour, job, how he treats me and of course in his trouser department” she laughed. “Yeah, but you couldn’t have known that before you started seeing him” I quipped. “No, but they are all hung aren’t they?” she replied, squinting at me. “I wouldn’t actually know, but the myths would have you believe that” I said. “Well perhaps it’s about time you also found out for certain” she replied. “And just why do you think I would even wish to find out, as if I am looking for an answer?” I challenged her. “Don’t tell me you aren’t just a little bit intrigued Kate?” “Not in the slightest. In fact, this is actually the first time the topic has ever come up and been talked about,” I replied. “Yes, but I’ve seen the way you look at Philip when we are all in company together. You wonder don’t you? Wonder what it would be like to be touched, to see the contrast of his skin on yours. Wonder what his hands would feel like on your skin, between your legs, on your tits. Wondered if his cock really is as big as I say it is. Well, let me assure you, dear friend, it is. Philip has the most exquisite cock you could ever imagine. And yes, it does touch places inside me that I never would have thought possible. So you just carry on thinking about that, or do something about it.” “Christ, Kirsten, what’s gotten in to you? I am happily married, have good sex and have no reason to cheat on Steve, even if I did want to. Just because you are seeking revenge on a grand scale doesn’t imply that I want some of what you are having, now does it? I asked her. “No, it doesn’t Kate. But if I didn’t explain to you the feelings that Philip brings to me, then I would be in dereliction of my sisterly duties to my friend, by not letting her into a big secret. Black cock is not only bigger, better and thicker – it’s that the guy on the end of it has a power that is unique. They know it’s wrong, we know it’s wrong, but the act of doing something wrong is the entire thrill. Sure – you could fuck a really well hung white guy and the stretching would be there, the feeling of fullness would be there. But, the sensation of that stretching cock being black is the mental trigger to explosive sex. It’s wrong. We’ve been brought up to think that way. We never mixed, interacted, lived close to each other or allowed our races to intermingle without some form of resistance to get in the way. But the taboo is the aphrodisiac. Deep down all of us white women crave and desire the invasion of our bodies by a powerful, silky, shiny black male and that, darling, is a fact!” That of course should have been the end of the matter but, the fact that I am writing this probably tells you that it wasn’t. Weeks later, we were all invited to a going away party for another of our circle, Claire, who was moving to the West Country to take up the life of a country lady. Claire was marrying Craig, a much older investment banker who had invested wisely over the years and was now offering Claire the chance to marry him and become a trophy wife. The fringe benefits appeared to be a limitless supply of money, 150 acres of moor land and pasture for his 20 thoroughbred horses. Claire loved horses. Steve, my husband, was on a project in the Middle East during the week in which we were arranging the night out so it made sense for me to book a hotel room in the city rather than try to get home on a tube late at night. I checked in straight after work and relaxed in a foamy bubble bath before dressing. I had packed evening lingerie as well as replacements for work the next day and after slipping the silky, dark pink panties over my freshly shaved legs and pussy I donned the matching bra. I examined my 45 year-old figure in the mirror and complimented myself on how curvy and well-preserved I thought I looked for my age. Keeping fit was never easy but the combination of the gym and horse riding had managed to keep me reasonably taut and fat free. It impressed Steve sufficiently that he commented often how good I looked and I loved him even more for that. Applying light make up and glossy lipstick, I slipped into a deep pink, silk blouse and a black knee-length suede skirt. Completing the attire were heels and pearls. I felt very relaxed and ready for a night out in the summer evening of the capital. I almost forgot to spray on my favourite perfume but remembered as I made my way out the door. Kirsten and the other girls were in the pub where we had agreed to meet. I soon had a gin and tonic and joined in with the general chat that was bouncing around between us all. Kirsten eventually ended up by my side and we chatted and caught up on what we had been up to in the week or so since “that” chat. During the remainder of the evening in the many various pubs and clubs we frequented, Kirsten seemed to take every opportunity to chat with black guys. It almost seemed that they somehow knew she was already with someone of their creed. I wondered if she was giving off some kind of subliminal signal that they read or whether, it was simply a case of her being direct with the guys and totally at ease, given her current lover. Who knows, but she certainly attracted plenty of attention in each venue. “I wish Philip was here right now,” she told me after sashaying her way around the club we were currently in. “I’m almost ready to go home and play” she announced, still eyeing up the group of guys she had just left. “Jerome and his posse have invited us to a club they are off to but I fancy heading off home pretty soon” she added. “How about you Kate?” “How about me, what?” I replied, somewhat unsure of what she exactly meant. “Wouldn’t you like to go for a dance with Jerome and his friends?” “Ha, I don’t think so” I quickly countered. “I don’t wish to go on anywhere else tonight but would be happy to stay here for a while longer and have a dance.” “Come on then – let’s get out there and shake that peachy ass of yours!” Shrieked Kirsten. Three or four of us made it onto the floor and amongst much hilarity and fooling around, we danced to some good old disco tracks. A few of the girls were approached by some guys seeking to dance with them. They joined our little group and soon began to dance with all of us in turn. Around this time, Jerome and his friends had moved around the club and were standing near our table. Kirsten noticed them and indicated to me that she was going over to talk to them. She motioned to me with her head to follow her and I made my way over to where she was. “Jerome, this is my very good friend Kate, Kate – Jerome.” As he reached out his hand to greet me I caught him looking intensely at me. He took my hand and much to my surprise he was ever so gentle in his touch for such a big man. “Delighted to meet you, Kate,” he said, in a very well spoken voice, so rich and deep it resonated around me, even in the noisy club. “Thank you, it’s lovely to meet you too,” I replied. “This is Chris and James,” he said introducing his two friends. “Hi, nice to meet you all,” I said whilst shaking hands with each of them in turn. “You are a great dancer,” said James. “We were watching you and you move very well. Perhaps I could ask for the honour?” He continued. He flashed me a huge smile from his very handsome face (he really was very good looking) and stared into my eyes. “Well, I really don’t dance so well James, but I could give it a whirl,” I told him. The music was a pounding, modern dance track and we danced among the hundreds of much younger people on the floor. It was too loud for chat so we mainly danced and just smiled occasionally at each other as we moved to the music. The pace eventually slowed and James danced closer to me. He reached out his hand to, what I thought was to take mine for a twirl but instead reeled me closer to him and held me in an almost waltz like position. “You dance well,” he said again. “Not so up to speed with the more modern tempo,” I replied. “Perhaps this pace will suit you more,” he said as he moved closer and we turned and moved together. James’ right arm was around my waist and his hand was placed in the small of my back, as he moved me around the floor. His left hand held my right hand and he continued to sway around and against me, as he worked his way in a bit closer to me. I felt uncomfortable dancing so close to another man, a much younger man but I was enjoying the dancing. James began asking questions and making conversation and we continued like this for a few numbers. The pace of the music increased again and I intimated that I wanted to leave the floor. James led me off towards the group, still clutching my hand in his. I didn’t make a scene but felt he was just a little too familiar. We reached our table and the group had been sitting chatting and some had danced at the same time we were on the floor. Kirsten sidled around beside me and leaned in to whisper in my ear; “You looked good.” “Thanks Kirsten but I really don’t dance that well,” I replied. “No, you looked good, as in well, together – you and James,” she whispered. “He is a much better dancer than me,” I replied. “No Kate, I meant that you the gorgeous, mature blonde look great together with James, the young black hunk.” I looked at Kirsten, ready to tell her to quit the nonsense again and met her gaze as she just smirked at me, raised her eyebrows suggestively and muttered, “Think about it Kate,” and turned and headed away. I was stopped in my tracks. Much to my surprise I did think about it. What must I have looked like? A white, married, mature woman dancing in a night club with a black man, twenty years my junior. I looked around and no-one seemed to be taking the slightest bit of notice as to who was doing what with whom. I sort of calmed down then and realised that perhaps I was being too sensitive and ought to just enjoy the opportunity to dance and dismissed the assumption that I looked silly. I had certainly never thought of the black and white thing sexually, only recently when Kirsten had begun her affair and was continually talking to me about it. Now that I thought about it I felt a slight tingle in my lower tummy and had a sudden mental image of me on a bed and a black man crouched over me, kissing me on the mouth. “A penny for them…” I nearly jumped out of my skin when James breathed that into my ear. “Oh my God, James! You startled me, sorry I was miles away there.” “I’m sorry, Kate, you looked like you were in a trance,” he laughed. “I’m not sure where I was actually, James,” and almost added, “And you might have been there with me,” but kept this last thought to myself.