The Adult Story Hub

This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2002. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
By E. Cansell (ecanse@470.com)


The Winery By the anonymous Audrey

Cleaned and compiled from a diary bought at auction from mini-storage lot by a.k.a. E. Cansell.

The following is my life experience in Northern California. Some accounts or history can be told in book and magazines. My name is Audrey for purposes of protecting my privacy and relaying this story to you. This account has very few platforms in which it can be told without causing a scandal and further embarrassment for the families involved. However I am determined to tell it before it is forgotten or I pass on.

I was a housewife very devoted to my family and my beloved husband who passed away in the early 1990'ties. I have four very beautiful and successful children three boys and one girl. The oldest is surveyor, the second is a manager for a large very well known hardware chain store, the third is a civil engineer for a provincial hydroelectric company in Canada, and my baby girl is married to successful ophthalmologist and is a schoolteacher in Santa Clara Valley. They all grew up in a very caring household and looking back, I am grateful that despite my mistakes, errors, and pain, they all grew up good studious children. Why am I grateful and thankful? Well let me tell you my story.

Moving to a small town in California in 1959 after marrying Martin in Nebraska where our families hail from, Martin obtained employment in a county Surveying department. And we moved into an established neighborhood. After a month of settling in another couple moved in next door, a black couple at that, which cause much discomfort in our neighborhood.

The couple "Glen" I will call him here and "Matilda" (to protect their privacy) was very quiet and nice it seemed. Matilda had an accident, which left her wheelchair bound and suffered from advanced diabetes. After a while the neighborhood calmed down and seemed to accept them. We befriended them and had them over for backyard Barbecues and card games, I guess to relieve our guilt and to encourage Matilda in her suffering.

In late March of 1959 my Husband Martin went out with the boys for pizza and beer after work. Martin had a little too much to drink that evening and was stopped by the Police and arrested and thrown in Jail on the DUI charge. After his release he was fired from his Job at the County after almost six months of employment. Martin tried to keep busy with his duties as Pastor of a Small congregational church of which we were members of since childhood in Nebraska. Martin never believed in being a burden on the congregation and always kept himself employed. So you see the tangled web, Fired from his Job, the DUI Charge, and being Pastor in our church.

After trying to obtain employment in his field Martin was unsuccessful especially in this area. Glen then began to help Martin find employment, I guess in return for us helping him find services and facilities for his disabled wife. Four Months passed by and the Mortgage Company sent us a final letter that they were going to foreclose our Mortgage for non-payment. To our surprise Glen came to our rescue and loaned us the money to make the payment. It was not blind charity that he was performing he was already talking to his wife's brother in law who was a manager at a private surveying company in the adjoining county south of here.

Martin then began working and got along just great with the personnel, this was a great blessing for us it was the job that would help us send the kids to college. Grateful of his benevolent help we invited him and his wife to dinner one night; we served roasted Turkey and made a thanksgiving dinner out of the occasion. My Husband then commented, "I don't know how we can ever repay you and your wife for what you have done for us. The money I have repaid you is not enough in my view, we would have lost our investment, our house, and probably moved back to Nebraska in failure of our California dream."

That same evening Glen took Matilda back home next door and put her to sleep due to her fatigue and came back to finish the evening with us returning with Five bottles of Zinfandel wine from the Winery where he was manager due to being a Nephew of the Owner. Glen was half-Irish and half-black through his Mother who was also of mixed blood. The Winery owners usually tried to keep a low profile on this matter.

As this very pleasant evening passed on with a cheerful card game and more wine and more wine the atmosphere became very relaxed it was about 7:00 p.m. During the card game we were joking and playing for pennies to make it interesting. During the Joking Martin ran out of pennies and asked Glen for a loan. The subject of Glen's generosity and his overly extended, neighborly charitable deed came up again. Martin recalled his feelings of his earlier comment "I don't know how we can ever repay you again." Joking Glen said, "Well if it will make you feel any better you can lend me your truck for Saturday dump day."

Laughter incited, "Maybe you can dump all my prior problems," was Martins comment.

"Or you can lend me your Rototiller, and till up some more problems", giggled Glen.

"Better yet I will lend you Audrey to do your Laundry," taunted Martin to my surprise.

"No, she is too pretty for that, beside she might not come back," laughed Glen.

Glen then got a phone call from next door and said that he would be right back, Matilda needed him for a few minutes.

Martin and I then began to sum up our evening. I asked Martin "did you hear that Martin, I am too pretty to do Laundry?"

"Yea," replied Martin "too pretty to do Laundry," he repeated under the influence of the Wine.

We then began to rationalize, question and discuss Martin's comment about lending me to Glen.... To do Laundry?

"Do you somehow feel indebted to Glen for his going out of his way and saving our home, uh Martin?"

"I guess I do, we owe a lot to him, he has been a very good friend and neighbor, I guess I feel for him also because of his marital condition, Matilda's disability. I can't imagine how he's managed so long that is Six years and not be able to have normal marital relations with his wife. Actually none at all to my observation of the situation, she seems totally incapable to me."

"Yea, poor Glen, I feel sorry for him also Martin I wish I could help him somehow, but you can't intervene in a situation like that. He is just destined to keep his marital promise and his duty to his wife. Anyway he must love her to be very devoted to her. I guess any other man would have left her by now."

"Somehow I feel it is our duty, Audrey, to alleviate err... to repay his generosity, his Good Samaritan quality."

"Yea Audrey I guess in an other world, in another life if I had an extra wife to lend him one for a day, I would lend her."

Wine does funny things to your mind it alters, impairs, and modifies your judgment. At the time under the influence of the Zinfandel the minds fantasize and wonder into a state of euphoria. What follows are the results of that reasoning.

"Would you lend me?" I teased

"I don't know, maybe I would, maybe not, and that would depend on you too."

"He did say I was pretty, you know I wonder if he secretly admires me."

"Maybe, I did catch him in the corner of my eye staring at you when you were pouring the wine though."

"Really what was he looking at?" I questioned.

"Maybe your legs, your form, don't forget I think you're pretty also, huh."

I then conjured in my mind what it would be like to go to bed with Glen having my husband's approval and blessing. After all Glen is very handsome and strong I've seen him play football in the park with the neighborhood kids. He does have a fine physical build. And my mind wondered and wondered.

"You know even if I had your permission it would be adultery, it would be a sin."

"A sin to help a fellow man get through life and get a little enjoyment out of it, just kidding," surprisingly answer my inebriated husband.

Then Martin reach into his scriptural depths in a moment of intellectual inspiration and began to surmise: "You know Audrey, adultery is betrayal, if you laid him with my permission what would it be? Certainly not betrayal! Then what would it be Audrey? What would it be classified as?"

"That's a good question Martin, I don't know, you are the Pastor?"

"If I unselfishly shared you with my fellow man. Would that not make me a Good Samaritan in return?"

"I guess it would Martin, lets' say I did for Pete's sake, I would have to have you present with me. Who knows what he would do alone with me, I would prefer you with me in the room there would be nothing to hide from you. You would witness all the happenings and no recriminations afterward. I would feel more comfortable having your immediate blessing or your intervention of anything that did not meet your approval. I would not want to displease you and put our marriage in danger later on, that is if I'd do it."

"I can not recall anything in the scripture to prohibit this, but only if you would want to, I would not want you to feel obligated," said Martin. "And you know the reason Joseph did not lie with Pharaoh's wife was because she was doing it behind his back and that would definitely be adultery that is betrayal."

"I could feel an excitement within me, lump in my throat, a dryness that I tried to relieve with another glass of wine."

"I don't see why he would refuse to touch these legs," teased Martin running his hand on my thigh under my skirt.

This definitely encouraged me and made me feel sexy for Martin but would I be sexy for Glen?

Somehow we came to the decision to try it. We discussed it, as to how we were going to go about. Later on in life we would discover that Glen was very faithful to his wife, but when He could no longer stand it he would then seek out a lady a one-night non-committal stand. To this point in 1959 he has only had 3 encounters in the six years had been married to Matilda.

Apparently Matilda was aware of his ventures, she could tell when he had sex, knowing he would sing Roy Roger's "Happy Trails" in the shower that was the telltale sign the giveaway. However she was content to have him home, she understood her husbands needs, and her inability to satisfy him, any other man would have abandoned her and she would then be in worse situation.

When Glen returned back from home we offered him more wine in our best glasses. "We have a gift for you Glen," announce Martin.

"Really?" Glen surprisingly answered; little did he know what awaited him.

At that I started to unbutton my blouse and lower my skirt dropping them on the family room carpet floor. I then nervously walked towards Glen and sat on his lap and planted him long kiss on his lips.

"But I am married," trembled Glen not wanting to touch my body.

"We know that, this is gift from us to you Glen you deserve it."

Martin then began to preach to him all our reasoning, our discussions and how I was willing to give my self to him, no conditions, no strings strictly a Gift.

Glen then began to caress my thighs and fondle my breast over my brassier. In the meantime Martin was preparing my bedroom for this occasion. Finally Martin came out and blurted "Bedroom's ready."

I then got up and told Glen to carry me, instantly he swept me off my feet and carried me to the bedroom a practiced maneuver he expertly knew with his incapacitated wife. As Glen carried me into the bedroom, I noticed it was dimly lit with two ritualistic romantic candles on the small bookcase headboard. He then laid me down on the bed and watched him disrobe of his polo sport shirt and khaki pants. I noticed his huge manhood already bulging under his jockey briefs. He understood my husband's presence in the bedroom ministering to us. Martin then bought in a glass tray and three empty glasses and a wine bottle.

Glen laid down sideways on the bed and I quickly approached his muscular body and pressed against him my chest on his matte black hared chest and pressed my lips on to his and began to kiss him, the wine soothed and dulled all senses and conscience. Wine pouring in a glass called my attention peering through the corner of my eye and seeing Martin pour the glasses and noticing a bulge on my husband pants. This was also arousing Martin but he nervously kept to himself barely able to contain his trembling, possibly reminding himself and reassuring him self this was a selfless Gift for Glen and Glen only.

He then offer me a glass of wine which I sipped while Glen worked on my bra. Then Martin offer Glen a glass and he turned sideways to sip his glass, then laid back again dropping my bra to the side and laying my breast bare on his matty chest. Oh what a feeling that was, it was indescribable, I then proceeded to kiss him feeling his large hands slide down the middle of my back and into my panties caressing my ass cheeks. He then lowered my skirt down to my knees. I then felt another pair of hands assisting him removing them completely; Martin then gave them to him to set where ever.

Glen probed me with his tongue during our gentle lovemaking. Caressing my breasts Glen then began to remove panties over my buttocks gently. I wiggled my rear trying to assist him, finally then made down my thighs. Martin then took over and assisted in lowering them and finally removing them. Glen and I continued our patient lovemaking. My husband then offered us another sip of wine, carefully ministering us our every need, even wiping our chins from miss-sipped wine. Glen respectfully made no effort to make genital contact with me, conscience of my husband in the room he refrains, moving sideways a little at a time. I then began to kiss his neck working my way toward his taut and hard stomach. I could feel his manhood with my thighs and stomach as I made my way down.

I suddenly came to an abrupt stop when I noticed his manhood reaching up above his navel I was startled at his size, not that I would not noticed but it was so obvious and it had a menacing demeanor. Men are always conscience of their size, we women are not that particular, it is what a Man does with it is what counts, the way he uses it. My husband was frozen stiff at the edge of the bed cleaning the wineglasses a bit. (Later he confessed to me that he had never seen a man that huge before and that he almost intervened to put a stop to having this black man copulate with me.)

Glen then began to kiss me again working his way to my breasts, sucking each breast like a baby I caressed his kinky head as he fed off of me and I cuddled him gazing in a dream like state at my husband sipping wine. Why was I so willing to give my self to this Man? I guess it was his giving quality that kept seducing me on and of course the excellent wine.

As Glen approached my teddy he stopped and looked at my husband as if waiting for his approval, nod, a smile, a word. My husband said nothing but handed him white delicate cloth towel and a sip of wine. Glen took that as permission to proceed and he did so lapping my pussy like a puppy on a bowel of milk. He parted my legs and devoted his love making, pleasuring me like my husband sometimes does except I could feel Glen's small mustache twinge my clitoris.

"Hmmm," he mumbled "its.... fuzzy woozy...." He then began to work his kissing ritual to my left thigh on over to my left hind cheek, licking my left side, finally coming up and homing in on my left breast where he hung on like a baby. My teddy was oozing I had no control over it I just had to have Glen in me.

I then straddled Glen under me. I, managing my hair and clasping it together all the while Glen cupped my breasts working my areolas then my nipples. I was dripping on Glen's taut stomach, just then a hand with a wristwatch appeared and swabbed Glen's stomach and wiping my furry teddy. Meanwhile Glen still did not make an effort to enter me, he had too much respect for me and my Husband to enter my body with his manhood into a reserved and prohibited area accessible only to my husband.

I could feel his engorged manhood suffering being pressed between our stomachs I could feel it's twitching head at my navel. I then laid my breasts on his matty manly chest and again started to kiss him probing him with my tongue. I raised my bottom up, feeling his large hands caressing my buns high up in the air I kept them waiting for his final grasp in passionate anticipation for that split second he would pull me down and bury his manhood into my anxious body, I wanted to posses his member, and caress it with my warm pussy and protect it from the elements in my motherly womb. But to no avail it still stood proud and strong in attentive strength All-American and rigid pride.

Later on I learned that Glen did not want to screw me, nor enter me with my husband watching, not knowing what reaction he'd receive upon seeing a black man-muscle penetrate his dear wife. He might get enraged and stop what progress he has made up to this point.

Still kissing him concentrating on loving kisses in gratitude that this wonderful person saved our home, my husband's dignity and sanity. Again my devoted husband gave me a sip of wine and Glen also of course. Martin finally came to the realization that it finally had to come about; it had to happen soon or later.

To avoid any recrimination that I took him into me or that he entered me without his blessing he took the initiative to encourage the union. He gently placed his left palm on my left cheek as if to adjust the position of my fanny, then I felt his hand under me as he nervously clasped Glen's massive male organ and pulled back on it trying to align it with my teddy. He could hardly control this black mass of gristle and muscle proudly holding its own in stubborn rigid strength, Martin's slightly pressing down on my left bun signaled me his permission to copulate.

(Martin later confessed to me how nervous he was almost calling the whole thing off, grasping Glen's male organ he almost let go in disgust it felt and seemed unclean. Resembling a large brown venomous cobra he dare not let go till it was safely in, put away and contained. When it was impaled in me he said it looked like a tree stump buried in my pussy with two hand grenades ready to go off. He said it was the most disgusting, despicable, vile, sight to behold and it made him sick to his stomach, despite the fact that it was his duty to officiate the conjugation to avoid recrimination from me or against Glen. He immediately left for the bathroom and made three attempts to throw-up unsuccessfully. )

I made no effort to stop his entry, I gently allowed Glen to meld into me, with the assurance of my husband's touch and caressing my behind. After the conjugation was complete he kissed my bottom tenderly and covered my derriere with the velvet sash he customarily used on the pulpit.

With Martin's blessing we consummated the union it was a beautiful experience with semi-religious connotations. After reaching an unbearable climax I felt Glen erupt with four strong spasms, I could feel his warm seed spreading within me as I held him in my womb nurturing his painful descent from his heighten ecstasy.... and I possessed him. Savoring his manhood within me, he was mine all mine as I nurtured him in my womb concealed and protected from my husband envious stares.

As I said before size is not important to most of us women, but to men it seems it is it either boost their ego, or if they compare themselves it shrinks if they somehow feel inferior. If you must know my Husband tells me Glen's manhood is a fourteen-incher, however I will not degrade nor dishonor my husband by telling you his size.

That evening I lay in bed in a semi-sleep caressed by Glen and my husband embracing me with his hand on my teddy as if to prevent a re-entry.

Later after Glen showered, my Husband sat in the family room discussing their mutual affair over rum-tea to calm their nerves and renew there friendship. After Glen left my husband assisted me in taking a bath and cleansing me thoroughly with an herbal bath treatment. I cleansed my self very thoroughly removing every trace of Glen's semen, I douched three times, not that I was afraid of getting pregnant for we made sure I was not ovulating since I practiced the rhythm birth control.

For the next three weeks I had very mixed emotions, I cried continually, then I recalled the tender fondness of our experience of my husbands Gift to Glen, and of Glen's appreciation for the Gift, his deep respect for me and my husband. Then I felt dirty, a slut, not worthy of Martin's love. I felt like I cheated on my Husband at which Martin reminded me constantly I did not cheat on him it was consensual. I had a mood swings and depressions, reexaminations of my soul, sleepless nights, loss of appetite, nausea almost every morning.

My husband in trying to reclaim his marital rights became very obsessed in having relations with me every evening after this event in which numerous times I accepted him then again would reject him feeling dirty. He kept on going right into ovulation after lengthy discussions that maybe it was time to have a child to cement our marriage further and this we did. Morning sickness got the best of me and at times made me feel even dirtier.

As my pregnancy advanced I began to heal my wounds of conscience and I started to appreciate and cherish the decision Martin and I made to have a child. The experiment with Glen became far away within my mind since we no longer associated with him as we use to. My husband still says hello to him, lends him our mower, he would in turn lend my husband a needed garden tool. We hardly reassociated either by intention or we were to busy with our own lives.

In late may of 1960 we had a beautiful baby boy we named him Martin Jr. Light brown hair, when he grew up during high school he became every girls dream boy. He grew up to be a surveyor like his father. As time passed, one year approximately, we tried to have another child to complement Martin Jr. We tried time and time and again. Then we started to go to clinics to try invitro and other methods. Then we took fertility tests after nothing worked. My test was positive I was producing fertile eggs.

The surprise was Martin; he had tested negative, however he went back for more tests, then to alternate labs. All tests came back negative. After consulting with a specialist Martin was told that he was completely infertile, zilch, nada, zero.