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I Married A Queen of . . . And Other Stories
(Author Unknown)

CHAPTER ONE - REVELATIONS

    

    It's been 30-plus years since I married my Queen. Through all the ups and downs, I have never looked back since, until today.

    The day after we married, Constance made a shocking confession to me. We were in our hotel suite in Panama City Beach, Florida, at the start of our honeymoon. We arrived last night, and we'd been so tired from escaping the wedding that we both fell asleep without bothering to get out of our clothes. Now we were awake, and right when I was about to get in the mood for sex, she had to spring a demented surprise on me.

    Constance told me that she loved meat. Like anyone hearing such for the first time, I was confused.

    "You're going to have to be more specific, honey," I asked. "What sort of meat is it that you like, I'll see about getting it for you."

    She rolled her eyes at me and then laughed. "Stop being daft, Herbert. When I talk meat, I mean dick." She grabbed my crotch to emphasise what sort of meat she meant. So startled, I reacted by jumping. "That's the sort of meat I like," she continued, unbothered about how stunned I was. "But it's especially the type and colour of meat I prefer that I'll require you to get me."

    "Colour and type?"

    "I only go for black meat, darling," she declared. "The blacker, the better; thicker and longer are often my favourite."

    "How long are we talking about here?" I asked like I was too dumb not to figure out where things were going. All this talk about black meat was still to kill my libido.

    Constance struggled to get her BBW frame off the bed while still in her gorgeous wedding dress and went to investigate one of her bags amongst our pile of luggage across the room. I remained in bed, curious about what she intended to show me. That occurred seconds later when she returned to bed, smiling, and dropped what I thought was the heaviest dildo I'd ever seen upon my lap. The dildo was about 10 inches long and ebony-coloured; it resembled a caveman's club than a sex toy. To think that she was jamming that huge dildo into her pussy was mind-boggling.

    "The fuck is this?" I said.

    "What do you think it is," she snapped. "It's a fucking dildo. A big, black and beautiful dildo," she cooed as she caressed its surface. "This is what's kept me going on the nights we got done having sex. I'd have to be the bearer of bad news, Herb, but you're pretty damn lousy in bed, and I'm being generous saying that."

    "But . . . Constance, how come I've never seen you using this before?"

    "The same reason whenever we're done having sex, you'd turn over, curl up and fall asleep, leaving me to fend for myself. Do you know I've never gotten an orgasm from having sex with you? In the three years that we dated, not once. This is what's helped me get passed that, along with some reliable black male friends of mine," she added cheekily.

    My eyes nearly popped in their sockets when she said that.

    "You mean you've been . . . you've been cheating on me this entire fucking time?"

    "Exactly, Herbert," she gloated. "I've been fucking around, that's what I've been doing, and that's what I've always wanted: a real man who could fuck me hard, make me feel like a whore, and give me the hardest pussy-slam ever. Why else would you think I went and got this."

    She raised her foot for me to appraise the black Queen of Spades tattoo on her ankle. I admired it in stunned silence. I knew what the tattoo signified, and she knew that I knew, too. That got her laughing aloud.

    "Don't worry, Herb. I've got a bigger one tattooed above my butt in case this one doesn't attract the sexy black boys over to come taste my milkshake," she bellowed with laughter.

    "What the fuck, Constance. This is no way to start a marriage."

    "You gonna divorce me, is that it? You go ahead and do that, Herb. And when you do, don't forget to tell your parents and friends why you did. I'll even go as far as telling them I've been fucking around since we got together and that you knew about it and didn't fucking care. I'll write a blog and dedicate it to how I've been cucking your pathetic ass this entire time. Even one time when I got you to eat my pussy after one of my lovers got done fucking me an hour before you came home. Try me if you think I'm lying about what I'd done."

    "You've actually done that, Constance?  SERIOUSLY?!?"

    "Very fucking seriously, darling. And you loved it, too," she smiled maliciously at me as if daring me to get angry at her.

    I did want to get angry, except I didn't know how. This was a novel experience for me, and I was swiftly trying to work my mind around it. Never had I encountered any other couple who'd gotten this type of situation before, especially one the day after they got married. It made me realise that somehow I had abated Constance into cheating on me without once bothering to figure out why or for whatever reason.

    "I'm still waiting for an answer, Herbert, darling," she said.

    "Huh? What answer?"

    "We're going to be here in Palm Beach for a week, which means I'm going to require you to find me a steady supply of black meat, or rather black dicks, to fuck. Are you gonna help me out, or would I need to go looking for myself? I need to know right now before I get out of this wedding outfit."

    I thought in silence for a moment, and then I gave my answer.