Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 06

21.

As his wife made it obvious that she was fully embracing this new concept of their marriage, something he thought he would have had to drag her into, Michael tried to assess what had just happened in their bedroom. He had clear seen (and now could never 'unsee') that his wife had given herself, apparently without a moment's hesitation, to Joseph, and was clearly happy with the arrangement. He could not believe how carefree and unselfconscious she seemed to be, and how easily she seemed to ignore her husband of 18 years. It was as if Michael had vanished, or had simply become a part of the furniture.

The door pull rang and Michael slowly got up from the chair, pulling his sweater down to attempt to hide the fact that he had cum hard from watching his wife fucking. He slowly descended the staircase, and pulling his sweater down one last time, opened the door. A tall, bulky, smartly liveried black man stood in the doorway almost blocking the sunlight completely. Over his one arm were several pair of trousers, shirts, and a pair of sweaters. In his other hand was a large brown leather suitcase. He was so large that the clothing and grip looked almost like scale miniatures.

Unceremoniously, he dumped the lot on Michael, who then struggled to carry the whole mess up the broad stairs. The case was sufficiently heavy that it bumped each stair with a clumping sound. Michael thought to himself that this was an absurd amount of clothing and toiletries. After all, the prince was not moving in permanently.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he scooted the suitcase across the floor and laid the loose clothing on the sofa. He was shocked to see the huge servant coming up the stair behind him with yet another pair of expensive suitcases. The servant took all three of the cases and stacked them by the entrance to the bedroom.

Savoring a long, lingering stare at his master and the white woman who lay facing the door, he licked his broad lips and rubbed his crotch absent-mindedly. Turning away reluctantly, he bumped into Michael, then laughed heartily and clapped Michael on the back a few times. He winked at the downcast face of the white husband then licked his lips again, this time noisily. In another moment, he bounded down the staircase, and slammed the door behind him.

Michael was even more confused and upset now, and simply sat on one of the suitcases, staring blankly at his feet. After several minutes, he heard Elizabeth moaning the bedroom. Her tone was breathy and in a staccato voice she simply kept repeating rapidly, "Oh, Oh, Oh. Oh yeah, oh yeah."

He stood up from the suitcase and tentatively peaked in again. He could see Elizabeth's body, her white skin rosy with the exertion of the several minutes of fucking. Her left leg was draped back over Joseph's thigh and left arm held his head tight to her neck as he continued to suck and kiss her. With each thrust, his powerful body slapped noisily into her soft ass cheeks and her torso tightened. Michael knew her patterns of arousal and climax well enough to know she was really close now.

Elizabeth's pulse quickened and her belly tightened as she heard Joseph begin to groan. She squeezed his cock all along its length with her stretched vaginal muscles. She realized just then how much she loved hearing him groan as he neared his climax. Joseph growled loudly now and she ground her body back against him, bumping his pelvis with her supple ass. Their pace picked up rapidly as she sought to bring him off and feel the jetting of his cum and the pounding of his cock head.

Outside the room, Michael watched his wife move her hips backwards, hard against the cock inside her as she came with a shuddering quickness. She was silent for several seconds then began softly mewling like a happy kitten.

She turned her head back over her left shoulder and her lips found Joseph's. She kissed him deeply and felt his broad tongue sliding across hers. Their lips smacked loudly as he covered her mouth repeatedly with kisses.

Joseph broke the kiss, and closed his eyes tightly. Growling loudly, his hips began bucking forward quickly. His left hand moved from his lover's nipple, now cherry red and pointing straight out, to her tender white belly. She felt herself filled with a sudden flood of liquid heat from his spasming cock, and she also felt an inexplicable pride in her womanhood, in the way she had obviously satisfied her man, in the way she could bring him to orgasm multiple times.

Joseph stiffened his cock and pumped his cock head an extra two or three times into the softened opening of her cervical ring, propelling millions of his potent sperm into her most intimate reaches. It was beginning to become a part of their fucking ritual and she actually looked forward to feeling it. When she did, she closed her eyes and smiled a contented smile.

After several quiet seconds, Joseph's softened cock slid from her pussy like a long serpent and it took a long few seconds for it to fully emerge. He held Elizabeth's leg up, still resting on his huge thigh as he slid his dark hand up her inner thigh and straddled her clit with his fore- and middle fingers, rubbing the sides of it lazily.

As he watched Joseph's dark hand slide up to cup his wife's soft white belly, Michael winced in the dual agony of knowing how much this turned him on and the fact that he had helped lure his wife into this. Even now his slender penis strained uncomfortably against the soiled brief he still wore. He wanted desperately to be inside his wife's swollen red pussy, which even from a distance was clearly gaping wide open. In fact he ached now. It was ironic, he thought for him to be able to have a second erection in a day, and to see Elizabeth open her thighs for more than one fucking. In their entire married life, their sex had become routine, always "once and done" and then rolling over to go to sleep. Today it was obvious that it was not by choice at least as far as Elizabeth was concerned.

Elizabeth lowered her leg and stretched lazily. Joseph kissed her back and neck and pushing himself away sprang off the bed. he reached down to grab her wrist, and pulling her toward him said, "Come, my woman. Let us shower and go for a late lunch on the piazza."

Together they stepped lightly into the bathroom and out of Michael's sight. He heard his wife's lilting laughter in the bathroom, and then heard Joseph mumble, "No my lady. No bidet for you! The very thought of washing my sperm from your womb is repugnant."

Elizabeth mumbled something else and laughed out loud this time. Michael could hear the shower spray coursing through the pipes. Dejectedly he sat back onto the chair, and then an idea seemed to come to him. Stealthily, he crept into the bedroom and pulling his pants down began to stroke his erection. The heady scent of sex permeated the room still and it excited him to know that his wife had just been fucked there. Closing his eyes, he thought back to some of the things he had seen and heard. He stroked faster and harder as he heard the lovers playing in the shower. He heard a loud fleshy noise as one of them apparently slapped the other's ass. His balls were tight, almost painfully so as he suddenly squirted out a weak stream of almost transparent cum onto the bed. He quickly grabbed clean briefs to slip on and hopped out of the bedroom with his pants around his ankles.

A half hour later he heard the lilting laugh of his beloved wife and the deeper bass of the man who now had laid claim to her emerging from the bathroom. He jumped up from the chair when he heard her shriek and arrived at the threshold of the bedroom just in time to see Joseph wrestle her onto the bed. Their bodies were freshly washed and Elizabeth's long hair was still wet and fell down over her shoulders in thick shiny waves. Her skin shone with a rosy pink hue, and the contrast between her color and the ebony darkness of the man whose biceps she now gripped with her delicate fingers made Michael's sore penis twitch.

She playfully resisted the prince as he pinned both her arms back against the mattress and his body fell heavily upon hers. Joseph tried to kiss her, but she kept weaving her head from side to side to tease him. Michael was worried that the tall black man might be hurting or worse yet, forcing his slender wife to do something against her will. Frowning with genuine concern, he started to move toward the bed then stopped abruptly when Elizabeth looked up and saw him then laughingly implored him, "Michael, help me. Come rescue me from this wild animal! How can you let him ravage your poor denfenceless wife like this?"

Joseph looked over his shoulder at Michael and laughed openly, his white teeth standing out against his darkness and his broad smiling lips expressing his delight at the slender wife's playful protests. Shaking his head, he exclaimed, "Don't even think of it, Mikey; this lively bitch is mine!" He laughed loudly, then released her arms and tickled the white wife's ribs until she laughed so hard she couldn't breathe.

Her arms suddenly free, she pounded against his muscular chest as if to push him away. Finally yielding to his superior strength, her arms fell away from his chest and her resistance collapsed.

Joseph kissed her neck and her hands stroked his back and then slid down his strong back to cup and squeeze his firm black ass. She squirmed against him and moaned with little mewling sounds, but suddenly he rose and pushed away from the bed. "Arise wench, get ready now. We must replenish our strength! Time for lunch. Your prince commands you. Don't you agree Michael?"

Michael had been mesmerized by what he had witnessed in the last couple hours, but hearing the prince's forceful voice snapped him out of his daze. He cleared his throat, and responded, "Uhhh, yeah. Yes . . . Your, Uhhh, Majesty."

Elizabeth protested, frowning and making a little pout. "No, no," she protested. "Come back in bed. Please, please," she whined. She reached forward for his arm, but instead found his leg as he moved backward. She moved onto her stomach pulling him back then rose to kiss the dark skin of his belly. She covered him with wet kisses and her mouth descended to nuzzle and lick his balls. Her eyes looked up pleadingly, and she began to move toward the purple head of his suddenly aroused cock. Elizabeth felt sure she had him in her power now, but Joseph push her head back and motioned her to get up. She pouted again and said, "Must I beg you? Do you tire of me so quickly?"

Joseph laughed a hearty bellow and replied, "My body makes it obvious that I am not tired of you and as much as I enjoy your begging, right now, I command you two to get ready. Let us be gone!" With that he motioned for Michael to bring him something to put on and Elizabeth, who was normally so prim and proper rose lazily and reluctantly from the bed. She walked over the to wardrobe as she selected a set with a gauzy top and a green mid-thigh skirt. She looked over at Joseph and Michael and commented, "Gentlemen, this wardrobe is not big enough for everything that Joseph brought over. Michael, you're going to have to move some of your things into the spare room. Can you do that after lunch?"

She was genuinely unaware of the effect her words would have of the bruised and tender psyche of her husband, newly cuckolded by her, but Michael was speechless, his mouth agape. He turned from the doorway, and his stomach was queasy from trying to absorb everything he had experienced already today. He shook his head and grabbed a couple items from the pile and carried them into the bedroom, and grudgingly laid them on a side chair.

22.

Ten minutes later, they walked three abreast, Elizabeth's arms looped through those of her men on either side of her. When they emerged onto the Piazza Navona, Joseph mentioned a favorite place in the direction of the Pantheon, so they veered gaily toward the Via degli Staderari. A steady breeze was blowing and threatened to show all of Rome the lacy thong under Elizabeth's short green skirt. Normally it would have upset her, but today she could care less. She was with the two men she loved – yes, she was now capable of believing she could love two men at the same time, and that one of those men was a sexually prolific and charismatic black man from Africa who had the power to transform her totally. Joseph made her feel things no other man, including (and especially) the man society recognized as her husband, have ever made her feel.

As they entered the outdoor seating area of the bistro, she smiled to herself and tugged Joseph's arm a little tighter as she thought to herself that it wasn't just the incredible and numerous climaxes, although she was beginning to become really addicted to them, but so many other things as well. She loved the way his dark skin looked and felt against hers, the way he kissed, the way he somehow seemed to 'own' her. Her smile deepened and a thrill ran through her body she admitted to herself she never thought she could possibly feel such alien feelings, both physically and emotionally.

A tiny serving girl seated them under a bright yellow umbrella and seemed to be taking stock of the situation, perhaps trying to decide which of the men the pale white woman was with. The way the black man seemed to hold the woman's attention settled the matter for the server and she gestured for them to sit together on one side of the table and for the small white man to sit on the other.

She was pleased that she had guessed right when she saw the black man overlay his massive hand on top of the woman's. She noticed too that none of the party wore wedding bands, so that settled the matter conclusively. She found herself staring at the black man's face and then idly taking in his entire body, stopping only when she saw his powerful thighs and something filling his trouser leg for the first 25 centimeters. She grew flushed when she realized the black man had caught her staring, and clumsily dropped menus on the table then beat a hasty retreat to get a bottle of still water for the table.

When she returned with an ice bucket and still water, she wondered whether the slender white woman probably had a difficult time accommodating him, but then she remembered that her mother had told her that the African men stretched their women out "down there" and for that reason she must never let a black man touch her. Her hand shook as she placed the water and spread napkins on their laps. She thought that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to be stretched out down there if this man were doing the stretching! In any case, the white woman looked very happy, laughing and speaking in a bubbly voice. Retreating again from the table, she thought to herself that perhaps she should be a bit friendlier to some of the many Africans who seemed to dine there and were from the embassies surrounding the area.

Elizabeth took both men's hands as Joseph chatted idly about taking Elizabeth to the upcoming embassy function. She smiled tenderly at Michael when she saw the sad look on his face. She rubbed his thin forearm then patted the back of his hand. That she still loved Michael was beyond question and she wanted to reassure him with a gesture. She felt he was weak and easily manipulated into opening their marriage to her black lover, but she had already come to realize that much of what Joseph had explained about alpha males, their rights and their ability to dominate both the women they selected and other men, felt correct, and probably had always been -- even in "civilized" white society. She dimly remembered from her college literature the practice of Prima Nocta, in which English nobleman in the past exercised an unquestioned sexual right to take a man's wife for himself on her wedding night. Was her current situation any different to that, and was what she was doing really wrong in any way?

A sommelier brought a bottle of red wine to the table, impressed by the selection. Ordinarily he would have offered the taste for approval to the white man, but something told him that the tall black man was the important one at this table.

Joseph squeezed her thigh and told her to have a taste, but somehow her stomach felt a little queasy when she thought of alcohol. A sudden chill came over her as a thought unbeckoned, one she hadn't wanted to even consciously acknowledge. Was the queasiness just a case of nerves or was it something else, something she had no desire whatever to acknowledge. A case of the nerves was certainly a possibility. She was now ready to admit to herself she was beginning to fall in love with Joseph – and that he had already displaced Michael and the center of her sexual universe – but it upset her to consider the question of whether her husband's expulsion from their bedroom was a permanent thing even when they had to return to America. No matter what though, she certainly didn't want his baby inside her.

Suddenly she felt the overwhelming urge to find a toilet and excusing herself bolted from the table, knocking over her chair as she did so. She bumped open the toilet door, banging into the server girl who was just finishing up washing her hands. In the tiny lavatory she became sick and began to retch into the commode. She vomited the few remnants of her tiny breakfast with Joseph.

She laughed to herself when she stood back up and noticed that the serving girl had gotten a wet cloth from the kitchen. She gestured to the girl, and explained, "I was overcome with a sudden case of the nerves." She gratefully accepted the cloth and wiped her face and lips.

The serving girl nodded and responded in halting English, "Si, my mama she get like that every time papa puts a new bambino inside her. Your black man, he plant his seed inside you, yes?"

Suddenly, there it was; the "something else" gnawing at the back of her brain. She turned even paler and refused to consider the relevance of what the girl had said, and so of course it forced itself on her as a flood of questions. When was her last period? What if she was already pregnant with Joseph's child inside her? Was this a price she would have to pay for the joy she felt? Could she go through with bringing his black child into the world, knowing the devastating consequences, the ridicule she and poor Michael would have to face? What about their daughter?

She shook her head violently and told the girl in an angry voice, "No, no way. I am not pregnant. He's not even my . . . " She had started to say 'husband', then pulled back the word. Elizabeth, she told herself, he really IS your husband in a way you know. You and Michael both agreed as much. You both bought into the deal Joseph offered. If you are pregnant, it is with you consent and enthusiastic participation.

She wobbled back through the bistro and put on a happy face for the men looking up from the table at her. She slid in beside Joseph bumping his body with hers. He felt solid, warm and reassuring. Just his presence made her relax and she put her head on his strong shoulder. There was no way, she thought, that she could possibly be pregnant. Despite her fertility, they simply hadn't been together enough times for her to catch. It had taken her what felt like forever to get pregnant by Michael. Just relax and enjoy this perfect day she told herself -- and be more careful in the future.

Her mood brightened as a large antipasto plate emerged from the kitchen. They dug into the dish with gusto and each one occupied with their separate thoughts. Elizabeth's appetite returned. She felt much improved and felt that surely she must have dodged a bullet.

Joseph could smell the faint odor of throw up on Elizabeth's breath when she returned to the table and inwardly he was smiling. He felt certain that she had experienced a bout of morning sickness and thus he congratulated himself on his sexual prowess. Looking across at Michael, he thought of how he had dominated both him and the beautiful woman who clearly preferred him to her western mate. His cock twitched with sudden excitement as he considered the possibility that he had planted his seed deep in the womb of the woman looking at him and rubbing her free hand on his thigh.