Black Curiosity - Censored!

  Black Curiosity

  CENSORED!

  By

  Melissa Dubban

  Published by Melissa Dubban at Smashwords

  Copyright 2010 Melissa Dubban

  This book is also in print at Amazon.com

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The Stories

  - Introductions -

  I - Wife’s Wicked Warm Up -

  II - Honeymoon Hanky Panky -

  III - Sarah’s Sexy Snooping -

  IV - Tiffani’s Turning -

  V - Carol’s Corrupting Ways -

  VI - Brian’s Betrayal -

  VII - Crystal’s Coaxing -

  VIII - Alice’s Affairs -

  IX - Twisted Temptation -

  X - Ending in Ecstasy –

  About the Author

  Introductions

  Her name was Amanda. John had her pegged for mid-twenties and a local, but she told him that she was from out of town and her fellow convention goers had left her behind at the hotel. There was no news of a convention in town, but then again he hadn’t been much of a newspaper reader since the funeral.

  “What kind of convention is it?” he asked, adjusting his sports jacket nervously.

  “I don’t want to say. It’s embarrassing,” Amanda looked away.

  “Come on,” John pushed, “You have me intrigued.”

  She lowered her voice and put up her hand to mask her lips, as if somebody might read them from across the room. “It’s a sex toy convention.”

  He nudged closer to her on the bar stool, “Really?”

  She took a drink and smirked, “Really.”

  “You don’t look like the type who would be in that type of business.”

  “And what type is that?” she teased.

  John held his breath as if to stifle his words but instead risked it, “You know, the bad girl type.”

  “Well, maybe I’m a bad girl on the inside and a good girl on the outside?” She looked down and adjusted her travel suitcase with her heel.

  His curiosity piqued, John had to ask. “So tell me, Amanda, what do you have in the suitcase down there? Are those, uhm, samples from your convention?”

  Her eyes lit up and she licked her lips, “John, I was afraid you would never ask. I could show you if you want.”

  “You know,” the middle-aged man pulled his shoulders back and drew a deep breath, “I happen to live less than a block from this bar, if you need someplace more private to open that suitcase.”

  The beautiful brunette twisted the stir straw from her drink seductively over her tongue. For a moment her smile faded and then reappeared as she discarded the plastic rod on the bar counter. “Okay, John. Show me this place of yours.”

  He took Amanda by the arm and escorted her smugly from the bar before the jealous eyes of the male patrons. But if he had known what was truly in the suitcase, John Kinsley would have run for his very life.

  Part I - Wife’s Wicked Warm-Up

  The seventh night

  It was six months prior to when John Kinsley stepped from the bar with the mysterious conventioneer Amanda. Outside the last straggling dark black leaves fell from the trees as the mid-December wind cut through the hillside community. The McMansions had sprung up about ten years prior shortly after the golf course was built. Then came the country club and the township ordinances that buffered the well to do neighborhood from undesirable homes being built nearby and helped retain their grossly inflated property values.

  The people who bought into this quaint plastic community were the typical white suburbanite types. The husbands worked in the city in the finance district or at the advertising agencies or occasionally ran some of the small businesses in the area. The wives ran the homes and gossiped amongst themselves and found new inventive ways to torture each other through home owner association meetings. That was when they found time between their power walks, little league soccer games, and shopping binges, of course. The helmet adorned kids rode safely on their bicycles on quiet streets, threatened only by their older siblings who drove maniacally though the isolated housing development in their hand-me-down BMWs and graduation Priuses. Roxburn Heights was a hot bed of normalcy with a moderate helping of pretentiousness.

  Each street had its own story to tell and its own deviations from the norm; Fristelser Court was no exception. The cul-de-sac had five beautiful homes in Home Owner Association approved pastel color combinations, one of which belonged to the Stanwick family. Jennifer Stanwick, the nineteen year old daughter had escaped off to college for her freshman year leaving her parents, Ben and Carol, alone together for the first time in years.

  Now on typical nights the forties couple would have been typically tucked away on opposite sides of their king sized bed. But that mid-December night and the week preceding was unusual for them and would have surprised both Ben and Carol had they been told what was to come. Somebody from the outside of the house might have only seen a faint glow like that of a television creeping through the Venetian blinds of the side window. Their neighbors were not only ignorant to the activity that was taking place on the second floor of the Stanwick house on that winter night, but were clueless to the fact that six months later one of them would be dead.

  The office was illuminated only by the bright images that emanated from the computer monitor. The sounds of the room were subdued moans that came from the computer speakers, tiny pangs from the spring-back computer chair, and stifled squeals of pleasure from a housewife who had one hand buried between her legs and another on the wireless mouse.

  Carol felt her wetness all along her own fingers and dripping down the inside of her thigh only to be caught by the fabric of her terry cloth robe. If anyone were to turn on the light they would have seen her neck red and face completely flushed. She pulled her fingers away from her mound right before her last orgasm could peak. Yes, the dirty scene flashing across the computer screen had certainly put her back in the mood again and it was time to head to the bedroom and her patiently waiting husband. She logged off the computer so Ben would be unable to see what she had been masturbating to and then walked quickly to the doorway where she found her husband slowly stroking his cock on the bed.

  “How was your warm-up tonight?” he asked.

  Carol smiled widely, “It was so hot, that I had to ‘warm up’ three times, if you know what I mean.”

  “I was wondering what was taking so long. Are you ever going to tell me what has you so turned on?”

  “That wasn’t part of the deal,” she taunted, “but this was…” She pulled her robe off, exposing her naked body as she climbed onto the bed and onto her waiting man. Much like the other nights, there was no foreplay involved. He was hard, she was wet, and husband and wife were once again happy. She went to turn off the light when Ben stopped her.

  “Don’t- I want to see you tonight. You look especially sexy,” he complimented. He meant it too. Carol was a stereotypical suburban housewife who worked out to stay in shape. She wasn’t a hard body like some of the women at the gym but she certainly wasn’t fat. Unlike a lot of the younger girls who frequented the gym in full make-up and long nails, Carol went there to actually exercise. She rode the stair master for thirty minutes then worked the lighter settings on the circuit machines. Ben admire
d her perfect ass, toned thighs and flat belly. She had a substantial D cup that –when she was heavier- seemed to match her larger frame. Now that she had trimmed down her body was phenomenal; it was difficult to believe that after all these years of marriage she was looking sexier than ever. That night she was completely naked, ready to mount his stiffness with a look of passion she hadn’t expressed since they were dating.

  “Okay, we can do it with the lights on,” she replied. She needed it hard tonight and anything to keep things moving would be fine with her. She grabbed Ben’s rod and slipped it into her waiting hole. Easing down his length she closed her eyes and ground on his body, feeling the penetration deep up inside of her. She couldn’t tell him what she was thinking, but it got her worked up while riding on top of her husband. She pictured herself in the sex scene she just watched and felt white hot between her legs as her husband grabbed her ass in his hands.

  For years his wife had been a frustration. Easy on the eyes but a cold fish in bed. The guys would make half jokes about what a hot piece she was and Ben lied, describing Carol as a tiger in bed. What did he have to lose? Besides, when a man describes his hot looking wife as not putting out, everyone automatically assumes it’s the husband’s fault. But it wasn’t his problem she was so boring in the sack. It was Carol’s fault that he had to step out of their marriage for some physical satisfaction, however. Look-but-can’t-touch was what was supposed to happen at dance clubs, not in your bedroom.

  But now Ben was so happy things had finally started happening in the bedroom again. Since his secret affair ended two years ago their infrequent sexual activity had dropped off to being almost non-existent. Carol never found out but there were days that she seemed to know something – that damnable women’s intuition that kicked in at inconvenient times.

  He was sure that nobody at the country club had said anything and Tina, his young fuck-toy, was too dumb to try to blackmail him. But the youthful blonde girl was getting attached and started calling him on his cell phone when he was home. He was going to miss the sex but not her emotional baggage. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he was spending so much time with her in the first place. She was barely old enough to drink and even that she couldn’t do. “Doctor’s orders” she would tell him, whatever the hell that meant.

  So with the relationship finally winding down, Ben decided to set up a fun party for him and his best friend, John Kinsley. It was just to be the three of them; a going away treat for the married men who worked so hard. When she told him ‘no’ on their last night together, Ben realized she needed a little motivation to get her going, a little something to slip in her drink that he had picked up from a buddy a few weeks back. He had used a jimmy here and there and found it made women a little more pliable not to mention more forgetful.

  But Tina remembered everything – more than an inconvenience for Ben. After that, it was time to break things off and he did it when she was home nursing yet another cold. Tina took the whole incident poorly to state the obvious and when she came back to work rumors started to pop up that she was sleeping with a married man. The stupid bitch couldn’t keep her mouth shut and Stanwick and Kinsley figured it was only a matter of time before their ‘last night’ started circulating as a rumor as well. Ben couldn’t have that and, thanks to some prodding from his buddy John, she was fired from her job at the country club and finally out of the picture. After a couple of calls, Tina vanished from the scene.

  So now he was going back to the same old hum drum with Carol. He still managed to find a hottie to play with while on the road, but then the budget cut backs at work started in and Ben’s business trips dropped off to less than two per month. Tina was gone, his occasional escapades on the road were curtailed, and Carol was her typical lifeless self. His sex life had certainly dried up in a hurry. He was a man forced to pay attention to his wife if he ever wanted to get some relief from anything other than his right hand. But Ben’s plan to get Carol more in the mood seemed to work this time; so much so that he was having a difficult time keeping up. His wife had become a tigress in bed who initiated things all week long. He was finally coming around to the idea that putting some effort into his marriage was a good idea after all.

  Carol leaned over and rubbed her tits along his chest, grabbing onto his neck as Ben passionately kissed her throat and shoulders and up toward her waiting mouth. Their bodies were intertwined like lovers who had not seen each other in months, yet this was the sixth night in a row that they had together making love with each evening turning the heat up even more.

  The housewife jumped off her husband and got on all fours, waving her ass to tempt him. “Now do me from behind, Ben. I need it hard tonight.” He didn’t protest and climbed into position behind his sexy wife, sliding his cock into her waiting hole. He pumped into her and she rolled back to meet each thrust as his balls slapped lightly against her pussy.

  “Oh yeah, spank my ass while you fuck me!” she moaned. It was her first time in their entire marriage she had talked dirty to her husband and she could barely believe the words were escaping her own mouth.

  “Wow! What’s gotten into you?” he asked, moaning and groaning as he jogged his hips faster.

  “Shhh!” Carol said, “Don’t talk. Just fuck me. Fuck me harder and spank my ass now!” Ben complied and she yelped as the slap of his hand on her cheek cracked loudly through the room. She commanded him to do it more as she closed her eyes and drummed up the images in her mind that she had masturbated to earlier. Oh, that’s better! she thought, The mind truly is the greatest sex organ. It only took some external stimulation to bring hers to life and it was even hotter knowing that Ben was clueless as to the wicked things that went though her imagination.

  One week prior

  “I don’t want to watch some stupid porn movie, Ben!” Carol snipped. “It’s embarrassing!”

  He looked at her in exasperation, “Hello? We’ve been married for over twenty years, taken showers together, and done all sorts of sex things together, so why wouldn’t you do this one little thing?”

  “We’re married. I shouldn’t have to look at other people having sex. You should be enough for our relationship, don’t you think?”

  “That’s the problem, I’m not enough for you apparently. Nothing puts you in the mood anymore. I’ve tried romantic getaways, candles, all the foo-foo stuff. At this point I’d be happy to have you excited about anything.” It wasn’t the first time her husband had said this and each time it was painful to hear.

  Carol rested her head in her hands at the edge of the bed, her frustration building and a cry coming on. “That’s not fair. The problem isn’t you or me. It is just us. We don’t have any time with each other and I’m tired and I just don’t have the energy for sex at the end of the day.”

  “So what do you suggest? Have sex once a month. Or a year?”

  “I don’t know…” she sniffled.

  This argument had been going on and off since the arrival of their daughter Jennifer nineteen years ago. No time, no sex drive, no interest. It was all mixed together in that thing called marriage as the two struggled on and off to stay connected with each other. Carol always told Ben (and convinced herself) that things would be better once their daughter vacated the house. She complained about fatigue, the thin walls, and the embarrassment of having their daughter hearing them having sex; all of these things that would vanish once college started and Jennifer was at the dorms.

  Well college had started and it was early December and things had not improved at all. The tuition costs should have been considered robbery and she was forced to cut back on her shopping by order of her husband. Trips to the mall were bland as she walked depressingly past Aldo, left empty handed from Armani Exchange, and actually scoured the racks at Ann Taylor for sales instead of heading straight for the season’s newest releases. Her body was finally in the shape where she wanted it and now Carol was forced to budget her clothing expenditures for the first time in over a decade.


  And then there was Ben and his extra long business trips. She found the bar tabs from the strip clubs and raised her eyebrows at the $9.99 adult movie rentals in the hotel room bills. The occasional long hair on his suit suspenders she tried to convince herself belonged to the naked women at the clubs he attended instead of the potential extra-marital affairs he was probably having. Not that she could blame him; Carol was preoccupied by the day-to-day management of the house and bills and the last thing on her mind was sex.

  One night when she and Ben were home together she walked past the office across from their bedroom. Her husband was staring at the computer screen intently when he looked up and forced a smile.

  “Did you take your medication?” she reminded him.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he answered dismissively. “Hey, honey, want to take a look at something interesting?” He waved her into the office, gesturing for her to come and look at the computer screen; on it was a picture of a younger woman in her twenties giving oral sex to a man.