Dark Desire 01: Tanya – Fetish


“Dark Desire 01: Tanya” by CraigOOL

Fetish – Big Cock cuckolds boss

[Author’s notes: Warning! This is an interracial story.There are strong bisexual cuckold themes in this story, although racially reversed. If you need to give a lecture about faithfulness or STDs, give it to your own wife. This hopefully will be hot enough for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don’t like these themes please move along. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.]

I never met Tanya until I had already been working for her for several months. I am in Chicago, and she is not. We were still winding down the pandemic, and as designated head computer geek, I didn’t need to be in her office to do the work. But as things headed towards summer and the pandemic restrictions lifted nationwide, that is gonna change.

Wally calls me into his office, saying “Mike, I know you’ve been working on the Atlanta project remotely, but the rollout of the new set of base systems happens next month, and I need you onsite to run the contractor crews. You’ll also have less rope, we’ve decided she’s going to be your boss for the duration of the project. Are you going to have a problem with that?”

“I’ve never met the lady in person, only on Zoom. But Tanya has the voice of an angel with a cherubic face and as a work partner has been everything I could have asked for.” I replied, knowing there is something bugging Wally about this situation.

“Things are different down there Mike. Tanya is the best cost center head I’ve ever worked with, but she’s a woman. A black woman. A black woman with a body hotter than the hinges of hell in a tower full of full bodied black women. Your face will be like a full moon in a sea of chocolate. They will either love you and each try to get you as a notch on their bedposts, or hate your guts and file so many complaints you couldn’t even carry the paperwork to your car. Plus she’s short, so there is this whole bantam rooster size thing I don’t even understand, but Mike 2 says she has a thirst for dominance. That means she has to put you down and put her four inch fuck me designer heels right on your carotid artery. Twitch the wrong way and she will put you down for good.” Wally warned.

We had six Mike’s working at corporate headquarters, at least among the management staff. Mike 2 is more than a little oversensitive to women in positions of power, so I took his observations with a grain of salt.

“Wally, I haven’t even gotten half a whiff of that from her, but I will be on my best behavior. If I have to live with the point of her heel on my neck, I will do it with a smile and make her happy while Ido it. Make you happy too, it’s the least I can do” I boasted with a grin.

“Just keep it inyour pants. We don’t need another Becky episode. In her hen house, I may not be able to make it go away.” Wally warned.

Becky was my protege, as good at twiddling bits as she is at twiddling clits. Michelle was my wife. Both of them were bi, and we blew up my marriage real good. Becky got the idea that Michelle had seduced her so that Michelle could feed my pale python new poon, and she was happy to be sacrificed to the python as long as Michelle would allow it. Michelle had the idea that Becky was gonna steal me away from her unless she made it a double poon sandwich, so she moved her in to make it a permanent threesome. That way it would all be under one roof where she could participate, monitor, and control it. So everybody consented and it was the best thing since sliced bread until the wheels came off and we lost track of where the rails might be.

“I’ll do my best sir. But the python does need to get out from time to time, or I lose my ability to type. Very bad for a computer guy.” I said with a chuckle, as Wally joined me.

“Just keep the python away from the tower. Free range poon only.” Wally chuckles as he waives me off to answer a call.

* * * * *

Atlanta is a VERY big airport, and I am used to O’hare. Once I made it to baggage claim, there is a driver in a business limo waiting to take me to my business provided apartment. About two sizes larger than the condo I’d shared with Becky and Michelle, fully furnished, fully stocked. At least home base would be comfortable and quiet.

I looked in the mirror, seeing my graying temples like blinkers on the side of my head. Salt and pepper on top. Moon faced white boy with just a hint of class. Michelle wondered I looked like a James Bond clone, but I am so happy she wondered I am handsome I never asked her which one. I popped out into a Lyft and got a haircut at a local mall, but didn’t give in to the dye job. I am heavier than my Army Intel days, but still fit for a civilian.

I had to adjust the thermostat down a couple of times to sleep through the night, the default being set for someone much more used to this warm climate than me. I pulled out my best dark blue Brooks Brothers summer suit and fitfully slept until the alarm went off.

The Tower of Power, downtown, has a good view of the Coca Cola building, perhaps the prime determinate of its value per square foot. Long elevator rides finally deposit me at the Executive Suite.

A tall almost flat chested black woman in a floral print dress escorts me away from the elevator. “You must be Mike Juan. You are MUCH better looking than I expected. I am single and available for anything you need. I also service Ms. Brathwaite’s needs. As to why that is true, you will have to hear it from her, I’ve said too much already. God I love working here!”, she said as she opens the door, and announces “Mike Juan to see you ma’am.”

As she strode away, I did a quick visual survey of my new nemesis or partner in crime. Short, a full head shorter than my six foot frame, but with curves that belonged on a full height woman. Easily bigger tits than my Mom’s, which I knew to be D cups, with a cavern of cleavage set on full stun, in a lacy bra just barely covering the nipples. Powder blue tailored pant suit which almost enabled a Helen Keller reading of her thick lower lips, framing her sleek hips and luscious curves of what must be a basketball cut in half to make the firm globes of her ass. What the hell did she do to keep her ass like that?

“Don’t mind Emily. She is rather forward and very playful, which makes the days go by easier around here.” She paused to chuckle, then said “Now that we’ve established that you are indeed heterosexual, could you clarify why Wally calls you Mike Juan? I checked and your first name isn’t Miguel, and your middle name isn’t Juan.”

“Sorry about the eye groping, Wally said you were hotter than the hinges of hell but I thought he was overstating, not understating. Unfortunately up north we have a plethora of Mike’s, so we had to number ourselves. So it’s Mike One, not Mike Juan.” I said quickly, as I studied her model pretty face. Broad nose, thick lips with pale pink lipstick, some multicolored eye makeup that must have taken at least a half hour to put on, framed by her almost wiry, frizzy dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“Thanks for the explanation. So what should I call you, Mike, Mike One, or Michael Spencer?” Tanya said with a mirthful expression on her face.

“Call me anything you like except late for dinner.” I quipped, and we both chuckled.

“In that spirit, would you tell me we have a plethora of Mike’s, when we do not have a plethora?” Tanya teased mercilessly.

“I would kiss you on the veranda, but on the lips would also be just fine.” I replied, parroting the banter from ‘Three Amigos’.

“Let me make this crystal clear. I am playful. I am naughty. I am happy to be that way with you, as long as you understand I am married, and do not say anything which calls me or my position into disrespect in front of others. But also understand that our work together so far has made a very firm base of rapport. I would indeed like you to kiss me on the lips AND on the veranda, while I might not ever be able to act on it.” she says as she puts her clear glass desk in between us, bending over to hang her full globes, still covered by bra, blouse, and jacket, onto a full display of her cleavage valley. Pausing just long enough to make certain that I had seen her message, and that I knew she had seen I had seen her message. She sat in her chair, motioning for me to sit at the desk just like hers across the room from her in her German techno style austere office.

So we chatted about who we were and how we came to be those people. I learned she is Tanya Nichelle nee Washington (in honor of grandmother Tanya and Nichelle Nichols) before she married Edwin Brathwaite from Barbados, and six years later still had no children, a source of infinite agony freely dished out by her friends and family. They met in school, and neither had been with anyone else. I didn’t find out why we were all of a sudden sharing sexual histories, but decided to be polite and play along.

I explained my two open marriages, a subject that she would return to over and over in the months to come. She could easily find out how a woman could be bisexual, even if just to satisfy her own needs, but the swinger lifestyle my first wife and I had shared is like a fishing lure the prize trout just could not get out of her mouth. The difference between Stag/Vixen and Hotwife/Cuckold, and then the numerous variations of other couples just could not be left alone. I did not learn until many months later that she’d gone home to look upthese issues on their “porn” computer at home, only to discover Edwin’s many, many gigabytes of cuckold porn.

* * * * *

One day Tanya is staring out the window, and the light just caught her perfectly. The curves of her ass were mesmerizing, and I must have gone full open mouthed slack jawed drooling babbling baboon, because she cut me to the quick with a single sentence.

“Is my ass that magnificent to you?” Tanya asks as she chuckles.

“The most magnificent ass I have ever seen.” I reply, still in a daze.

“Then wipe your drool up from the desk and get back to work, because unless you actually do the work, you won’t get to stare at it anymore.” Tanya says brusquely as she turns around, closes her fists in triumph, and then buries herself in her own work. But she did strike the pose in front of the window every day just to catch me looking. Win/win.

* * * * *

During the summer the social circle Edwin and Tanya shared became mine. While Emily did her best full court press to bed me, I had been true to my implicit word to Wally and kept all python conquests at a safe distance from the tower. But it is getting harder and harder to do so, as the wives closed in.

Kitty Summers, the redheaded Irish bombshell with tits obviously larger than Tanya’s, had a pool party with lots of alcohol and ganja flowing. The women wore their best (i.e. smallest) bikinis, some little more than Brazilian dental floss string bikinis, the men their best speedos (i.e. banana hammocks) and trunks. The men had moved over to the pool (closer to the bar with the 20 year old scotch) while the women stayed in the shade along the back wall.

Kitty begged me to help her mix some more of her “Mutha Fugga” punch (to get the ladies ‘in the mood’), and I am already halfway lit. So with my eyes on her big round tits and big round butt, I got stationed in front of the empty picnic table in the sun, while Kitty turned on dance music for me. She (and soon all the ladies) urged me to shake my stuff while mixing the punch (mostly by shaking it from side to side). It is a classic reverse python hypnotism, where their eyes never left my python while they fell into a deep pussy trance. Kitty returned to the ladies picnic table, Tanya by her side, as Delilah stood between them and the view of the men.

Kitty and Tanya dropped their tops, shaking their bare tits at me. I have strict instructions. I have to dance through the whole song, and I am looking at their full tits, knowing they are coming on to me. Plus, shaking the snake from side to side is also waking it up. I quickly envisioned threesomes with Kitty and Tanya based upon my experiences with my first two wives. My cock swells to meet the intensity of my fantasies of Kitty and Tanya pleasuring me between their big breasts. I saw their eyes bug out, and so I went for it, swinging the sausage back and forth, as I imagined them trying to catch it with their mouths while playing with each other’s pussies. My eyes close as I swear I could have felt Tanya dropping down on my cock, but it is only my own hand. I know I am one, maybe two strokes from coming all over my trunks. So I turn around, catch the jug of punch before it crashes off of the table, then put it down as the song ends. Wild applause ensues. I take two quick bows and run for my life.

I ran, cannon balling into the pool, starting some horseplay among the men, to hot glares from five women (Tanya, Kitty, Delilah, Emily, and Zelda). I am a dead man, and they each intend to personally execute sentence by fucking me to death. A sworn vendetta, to be satisfied at a later date. I can see it in their eyes.

* * * * *

On Monday Tanya stops a step inside the office, so quickly I had to go up on tiptoes to keep from crashing into her her ass. Spinning around, she buries her head in my chest, and in a low, soft voice says “If you EVER do that again, every woman who was at that party will fucking fuck you to death, and I won’t promise that I won’t even if you don’t.” She places her hands on my ass and squeezes it firmly, then hard, letting out a soft moan.

I am lost in the sweet spicy scent of her hair. I don’t know if it is her scent, or some product she uses, but no other woman I’ve ever been around smells like this. I’m starting to get aroused, and unthinking, I reach up under her jacket to paw at her breasts. There is no blouse. There is no bra. There is only my hands on her nipples, which dig into the palms of my hands like little roofing tacks.

My brain shorts out. My mind can not comprehend what is happening, that I have what I have craved right in my hands. On autopilot, my hands milk her breasts while she squeezes the Charmin out of my buns. Finally I have a wondered that I could have already opened that doorway to hell Wally warned me about. I should have been more careful. That first step down to the open molten doors of hell (without hinges anymore) is a steep one, and the velocity picks up quickly.

“If you or Kitty ever shows me your tits like that again, I will show you both how many times I can cum in you in a weekend.” I growl.

“Deal.” I hear it like a far off bell, as Tanya is standing in front of me, holding out her hand. I shake her hand, and she runs off to the bathroom. I don’t see her for a half an hour at least, but by then I am hip deep in executing the rollout. We still have server upgrades, but they will be transparently done one at a time over the weeks ahead. I am so lost I don’t even notice her until late in the afternoon. The bra is back, the blouse is back. But the jacket is on the back of the chair and it is a sheer bra in a sheer blouse with those nipples looking like they are so hard they will burst. Every time our eyes meet, she blushes and then turns away. I have formed a pup tent in my pants and it won’t go away either.

It goes on like that for months. She never wears the bras she did when we first met. She never wears the blouses she did when we first met. She has stopped wearing pantsuits altogether, and now only wears skirt suits. I wonder if she is preparing to give me a beaver shot,but she never does. This is when I figure out about the cuckold porn she found on their home computer, and Edwin’s relief she is not angry, but supportive. It all gets hotter and hotter without ever crossing that final line. But like a one eyed train in the fleshy tunnel directly in front of us, we know it is coming and can not be stopped.

* * * * *

One day she is doing ice skater exercises, one hand on the wall, then using the other hand to pull up her leg, holding the ankle. The leg blocks the light, and since the leg blocks the light, I can not tell if she is wearing dark panties or giving me that full bearded beaver shot I have been craving. She repeats the stretch on the other side. Then she turns to face me, bending over to show the no blouse, no bra arrangement under her jacket. Tits are swinging free, and I made a promise to her about doing that. She grins widely, blushes, then grabs her purse and disappears into the bathroom for another half an hour.

The skirtsuits are replaced with pantsuits, and the temperature of our banter is dialed back by Tanya. I think we both realize we are right up to the line of doing things with real consequences, yet not eager to pay the freight on that shipment. Well I am.

The games at the social parties get more risque, but mostly word games, and question games. No kissing games or stripping games – yet. I can sense they are around the corner. From back to college to the week before Halloween, Tanya is intensely curious about the games and other spouse swapping activities. She is especially curious about how the bi men and women hooked up. Then she falls into a rabbit hole after a opinion I made about the club dominatrix ‘training’ husbands to become bisexual cuckolds completely under the thumb of their hotwives. She has been exploring the cuckold lifestyle to find out what Edwin needs, and how to give it to him. She sees this as her path.

It is a seething, simmering cauldron of cooze ready to boil over. Kitty and Tanya have visions of turning their social circle into a swinging circle. Kitty is envisioning getting into Tanya’s pants permanently, with a helping hand from my big cock, and is starting to flirt with me – hard. So hard I have to work not to be alone with her at parties and get togethers. Tanya is envisioning getting onto my big cock permanently with a helping tongue lashing from Kitty (and maybe Edwin), and is flirting with her hard. I have no direct idea what George (Kitty’s husband) or Edwin want, I haven’t spoken to them about it. But in Edwin’s case, I can now guess.

Tanya confirms that she and Edwin have been training under a local Domme. Tanya now feels that this is the right choice for them, that so many things in their life are coming together. She is so very grateful she climbs up unto my lap and kisses me, not a friendlykiss, but a soul searing kiss with all the passion I’ve ever felt from a woman. We are lost with that kiss, abducted by aliens, because when the phone rings, jarring us back to reality, more than a half an hour has gone by, completely lost. We are lovers now, we just haven’t done the deed. I’m at home in my business apartment before I notice the snail’s trail on my pants of the woman who craves me. I fall into a chair with the realization I crave her too. I am damned by my own desires, holding on hard to the hinges of hell, even though it burns. Maybe I can keep the door shut another day, is my prayer every day.

* * * * *

I should have seen the signs. Ever since I grabbed her tits that day in the office, there has been no off-tower poon hunting. In fact, no poon hunting at all. I masturbate to her and Kitty together with me, but then Kitty fades away and it is only Tanya. I am in love with a married woman but due to my swinger morals, have to have her husbands consent to go further. A kiss is just a kiss. A fuck is just a fuck. But a fuck of somebody who belongs to somebody else is wrong unless you have their consent. Given what I know about cuckolds, it seems like Edwin’s consent will be handed to me on a silver platter.

* * * * *

The next morning Tanya closes the door. “We have to talk.” she says seriously.

“I agree. How long has Edwin been fantasizing about you and I?” I urge her to explain.

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