I knew she was at Willis’. I knew she going to fuck him. I especially knew that I would never have sex with her myself. I wasn’t deluding myself into thinking otherwise; and yet, that ache, that deep ache I had in my heart wishing that I could, was both bitter, as well as one of the sweetest I’d ever felt in my life; and so, as the hours past, I quietly sat in my bedroom watching interracial porn on my lap top, and stroking my cock as I did.
My five inch cock was no match for the sort of cocks that Megan preferred. Nor did I have a black cock, which was the other thing she preferred—but I didn’t care. My heart was hers, even if my cock lived most of the time in my slacks (or, held in my hand late at night as I stroked it!
I liked Willis. I really didn’t resent him fucking Megan. He treated her nicely, as she fully deserved. He lavished her with the sort of attention she craved, and which I could never really provide her with. That big black cock of his was able to go places inside of her sweet pussy that I knew mine never could. He was lucky to have her. But I was equally lucky, too, that she paid me any attention at all (since I was a lot older, white, and had a small cock); and yet she didn’t mock me for these things. To her, I was a good friend. To me, she was so much more than just a good friend! It was perhaps crazy to say that I ‘loved’ her, but what other word so well described the feelings I have for her, than ‘love?’
Of course, I was well aware that nothing would ever transpire between her and I, other than some of those long chats we engaged in now and then; which, for me, were like mana from Heaven! They sustained me. They brought a light into my otherwise dull life (being a certain age, you become invisible to most other people, and especially so to the young).
So, I accepted my largely voyeuristic relationship with Megan, and valued it very highly; because if that was all I could ever hope for, then that would be my hope! No complaints. Adapt. Adjust. That would have to be the mantra I’d have to live by. And I do!
It had been over an hour since Megan left to go see Willis. I sat facing my lap top watching an interracial cuckold video (the only variety I watch now days), stroking my cock, but refraining from ejaculating. That would come later. I wanted to prolong the strange, agonizing ‘pleasure’ of such moments. Doing so was my way of demonstrating the sincerity of my cuckold status to Megan; and though she could not witness it, nevertheless, for me, it was important; it was my reaffirmation of my pledge of total devotion to her. Each time I didn’t come (though I wanted to), it was submitting my own personal pleasure in service to hers!