My name is Sandy and I live in the Southwest. I am 36 and have been married for fifteen years to a great guy and the wonderful father to our two sons. But until recently, I also had a black lover. My lover is 32 and also a wonderful man and I was truly in love with him (and still am.) For nearly two years I led a double life, living out my erotic fantasies with my lover but also and having everything a normal white middle class mother and housewife could want. During our affair I was always torn by the conflict of loving my husband and children and also wanting the thrill of my erotic interracial affair.

My affair was more than just a sneaking to motels to fuck. I really was very involved in almost every part of his life, more openly, like a real girl friend rather than a cheating wife. We would go on dates with his friends and spent a few weekends together. I met his parents several times; I even cooked dinner for them. One of the weekends we spent together was with his two brothers and their families at a lake lodge. I even went to his high school reunion! These are all the things that normal couples do when they are dating and their relationship is turning serious. But I was married and it would be crazy to even think of leaving my family and start another. But my lover is the type of man who can turn a girl’s thoughts all around and there was more than one occasion when I came close… very close.

There are lots of reasons for our breaking up but the main one was that he wanted to have “his woman.” I could not commit to fully giving myself to him and he could not handle sharing me with my husband. I wanted to be with him but I just could not leave my family and start a new life as the white wife of a black man. More importantly, I could not see myself starting to have babies again! My sons are young teens and while I always wanted to have a girl too, that part of my life is over… or is it? It was his biological clock that was ticking, not mine. It was driving both of us crazy and the best thing for us to do was breakup. But our breakups didn’t seem to last very long and after a few weeks I would be back in his bed again.

At some point in the middle of our affair, things turned very strange. I have always loved the secrecy of my affair and the heart racing fear of getting caught. I admit it, I was looking for a thrill, something that would make my head spin and excite me sexually. It was not just having a lover; it was having a black lover and a secret life that is so erotic. But my lover hated it. He hated that I would not be more open to my family; to show everyone I was proud to be “his woman.” After all, he had made his family accept me. (By the way, his mother is just horrible to get along with!)

He accused me of wanting to “play it safe” all the time and challenged me to go off the pill and not use any birth control. It was his test to see if I really was willing to give up everything for him. If I wanted to keep my black lover’s interest, I was going to have to risk getting pregnant. If I was going to stay with my children, I was going to have to take a greater risk that I could lose them. It was crazy, terrifying, and foolish, and… of course, I took his challenge, and… of course, I got pregnant.

I am Catholic but haven’t been to confession in years. Abortion is not something I like to think about but if I hadn’t miscarried, I am not sure what I would have done. I made up my mind to have his baby, after all I had taken the bet and lost. I had to pay the price for my foolishness, a price that would ruin my comfortable life as a white middleclass housewife… But I also loved him and having his child would certainly be an extension of my love. Besides, did I really want to be so safe all the time? Is that what I really wanted to do for the rest of my life?

I was sick for weeks worrying about what path my life should take. Do I confess to my husband, beg him to forgive me and ask him to help raise my lover’s baby? Or do I walk away from my family to be the wife to my young black lover and have his babies? Would my white sons ever accept a black man as their stepfather? Would his Mama ever accept her interracial grandchildren? I glad I did not have to choose but I still have dreams of having his babies and I still wonder if being with him isn’t what I really should have done.

Who is SandyWho? I am not the good little white housewife that everyone thinks. But I don’t really know where my new self is leading me either. My art is just one way to capture my thoughts and emotions.

Hidden away in my house is a picture of my lover and his family. “Mama” is in the middle we are standing next to her. I wonder if that red headed Irish woman looking back at me from the photograph is really who I want to be. Should I walk out the door and become that woman forever? I am still exploring, thinking and wondering.

November 1999

The Baby Dreams Series

Pregnancy causes both wonderful and terrifying emotions. In this series I explore the emotions I felt and still feel about being pregnant by my black lover. I wonder what I would have done if I had carried the baby to term. How would I have explained it to my husband? To this day, he thinks that my miscarriage was his baby. He got a vasectomy shortly afterwards. Occasionally, I have these overwhelming desires to have another baby. When this happens, every man I look at make me wonder if he could be the one that gives me the baby I desperately want. Most of the time, it is the black men that I wonder about.

1. Nursing My Love Child

I always wanted a girl and a baby sucking at my breast again would be so wonderful! Her little brown head pressed against my white breasts and pink nipples. These are the images the come to me every time I have these urges to have another baby.

2. Carrying My Lover’s Child

My swollen belly, the precious gift of my lover. The child I would bear him to make me his woman forever. Soon, my infidelity would be exposed.

3. Two Lovers, One Baby

Once I realized that the baby I was carrying was my black lover’s, the whole idea of hiding my affair from my husband seemed silly. Call it emotional distress or craziness but I had this urge to go out and find as many lovers as I could. It was just this idea that my lovers would care for me, protect me and love the child I was carrying. Since the baby would be black, then of course all my lovers would have to be black too.

4. My Husband Discovers The Baby Is Not His

For months I did not know how could I tell him the baby was not his. Being caught with my lover in my bed forces me to confess. I am sad but relieved that he knows the truth. Will he leave me? Or will he accept my love child?

5. My Lover Feels His Son Move

A tender moment, the love we shared knowing we had created a wonderful thing. He wanted a son and my womb belonged to him. My husband’s heart would be broken by my deception and infidelity.

6. Still Sexy For My Man

I always want to be sexy for my man and keep him wanting only me. I want his to remember the pleasures he had with my body to give him the son he wants.

7. Five Months Pregnant with My Proud Lover

Five months pregnant, I am beginning to feel fat and ugly and all he can do is grin! His black love snake is always hungry and I pleasure him by riding him like the black stallion he truly is.

8. The Mirror

In the mirror a husband sees his once faithful wife pleasure the man who filled her belly with his black child. Betrayed, his muffled cry of anguish is heard by the cheating couple.

9. My Lover, Our Son

My husband helped in the delivery, my children anxiously awaited the arrival of their new baby brother or sister. There was shock, anger, and tears when my secret was discovered- I had born a son for my black lover, not my husband. In the hospital I held my beautiful brown baby, my lover came to admire our son.  I still wore my wedding rings, but my vows to remain faithful had been forsaken many months before during a night of passion, when this black man’s seed was planted in my willing and eager womb.

10. Nancy and her Lover

Nancy's one night of passion with a black stranger has changed her life forever. She didn’t want his baby, she was in love with another man but he broke off their engagement when he found out she had become pregnant by a black man. She is with her black lover now and is content with her decision to have his child. In some way she is grateful that a night of passion with a black stranger, a quick taste of the forbidden fruit has saved her from a lifetime with a man she knows she would have grown to hate.


11. Madonna and Child

My lover’s baby, so beautiful, so dark against my white breasts.  His little lips eager and hungry, suckling greedily the milk from my aching nipples.   His father waits watching his son and woman.  Proud and protective but with hungers of his own.  Our son sleeps quietly, our passions grow, our bodies intertwine as takes me again and again, filling my womb with his virile seed.

12. Dinner with Dad

Breast feeding is one of the most important things you can do for your baby. It can also be a very sensual experience. Men always get jealous of the pleasures their baby is having in suckling. They always want to have a taste and sometimes it can be an extraordinary erotic experience.

13. Mother's Love

“Come on sleepyhead,” I whispered to my son, “Time to eat. Mommy’s boobies are really full and just waiting for my big boy.” With a smile he reached out to grasp my aching breast, his lips firmly attaching to my nipple. As his tiny tongue worked the nipple, milk flowed into his mouth, and suddenly my body felt a rush and milk began to gush, leaking out of my other breast. His tiny dark eyes looked up at me, to smile contentedly, as his tiny brown fingers squeezed the whiteness of my breast.

“You are so beautiful,” I whispered lovingly to my son, “How could I have ever doubted I wanted you?” He has his father’s eyes. They are my lover’s eyes, the same eyes I had looked into urging him to take me, to fill my womb, to make me his woman. I knew the risks, it excited both of us to new passions. Daring fate to expose my infidelity, I welcomed his dark unprotected manhood, thrusting my hips to be impaled and filled, crying out with lust and passion as he came deep within me. The sweet babe at my breast was the consequence of my infidelity. My husband was devastated. He forgave me but did not understand how I could do this to him and our family. His comfort in a time of need made me love him even more but I know he will never understand that it is my lover’s sons I want to bear, not his.

“Come on my love, Mommy needs for you to eat up,” I said as I stroked his beautiful head, “Daddy’s coming over to see you and later, I want to him to make you a brother.”

The "My Secrets" Collection

My Secrets is a collection of ideas, fantasies, and real events that captured my imagination. Each picture is a story in itself and every one is “real” to me even though it may have been inspired by something I read or a person I have met. These are the dreams that all women have about black lovers and the lives they really wish they were living.

1. Afternoon Delight

At the Mall one afternoon a shoe salesman flirted with me. His black hands lingered a bit too long on my legs, traveling a bit too far up my white ankles and calves. I looked him in the eyes and saw the invitation was there to spend the afternoon trying on something completely different for size.

2. Sunset at the Lake

Our second time was at the lake. My excitement and hunger for him drove away all caution as we hurriedly made love on a blanket near the shore. That night at home in bed next to my unsuspecting husband, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think of was taste of him, the feel of him growing so hard, making him growl with pleasure, his hot sperm exploding into my unprotected womb, and remembering the cool breezes from the lake that washed over our spent bodies.

3. Vacation With My Lover

A tropical paradise, swimming naked like the native women did for hundreds of years. My black lover’s hands, dark against my skin, his kisses making me forget the family I left at home. Only my wedding ring reminds me that I am in the arms of another man.

4. Girls! Look What Santa Brought Me!

With Christmas presents like these, a girl doesn’t need to worry about seeing fireworks on New Years. Yum!

5. No Turning Back

A simple kiss can turn to a passionate embrace. Suddenly our bodies were hungry for each other, his lips on my naked breasts, my hands freeing his manhood from his jeans.  I stopped, pulled away to catch my breath and clear my mind before I went too far.  I knew I could stop, turn away from this man I so desperately desired and return home to my husband.  But  there was no turning back.

6. The Double Date

My best friend Nancy called and begged me to go with her and her new boss to a party. Her boss had an important client in town and they needed someone to be his partner at dinner. At first, my husband was mad at Nancy but in the end, he got a bit of a thrill thinking of his wife on a “date” with another man. I think we both thought my date would be some overweight white middle-class businessman. Nancy didn’t tell me both men were black and played football together. We never made dinner. It turned out all they wanted was dessert served in the hotel room.

7. The Mom-Mobile

My family calls my van the Mom-Mobile because all I ever seem to do is drive from one kid event to another.  With two active boys and lots of team events and practices, I used to live in my van.  But now that the boys are in high school, they don't want to be seen having Mom drive them everywhere.  Still, my van is a great car, especially if you want to have a nice quite drive in the country with your lover...


The "My New Lover" Series

Every woman’s fantasy is to have a new lover that fills her special needs.   Sometimes that fantasy man is an actor or the deliveryman with bulging biceps, and even that teenage boy down the street that whistles at you when you are out in your shorts and halter-top.  For some women, the fantasy becomes a reality and her new lover becomes an obsession, a passion to please him, and to be pleasured by him.  My black lovers were always demanding, proving their manhood, bringing me to new heights in passion, and making me forget the husband and family I had waiting at home.

1. Learning to please my man

I love his body! So black, so hard, so strong and pocketful, he excites me and makes me want to meet his every desire.  I was timid, not knowing how to enjoy the taste of his manhood, fearing that I would not satisfy him, that he would lose interest in me. I am his eager pupil as he shows me how to please him, become a slave to his desires and my own.

2. My Eager Lips

“Take it bitch,” he grunted, “Suck it hard.” I was stunned and suddenly very afraid. It had been a dare gone wrong and now I had to pay the consequences.

My girlfriend told me of the black stud who ate in the cafeteria everyday. She asked if I had ever fucked a black man. I was surprised at her crudeness and wondered what she was up to. She knew I had never been unfaithful to my husband and I protested I was not interest in cheating on him. She laughed, daring me to find out, betting me that I couldn’t resist him once I got a look at his cock. I was intrigued but also shocked that my friend would dare me to act like a slut. I told her she was crazy but she dragged me to the cafeteria anyway and I went along just to see who she was talking about.

“Go on, “ she said pushing me forward, “There he is. Just go talk to him. Or are you afraid I may be right?” He was eating alone at a small table. I was angry with her taunting and determined I would show her she was wrong. I approached him and asked if I could join his table. His uniform and work boots told me he that he worked on the maintenance staff. He looked up at me a waved me into a seat. I tried to chat with him while I ate my salad. He just stared at me, his eye penetrating my thin halter top. Finally, he asked if my friend had put me up to this. I confessed she had and he laughed showing his white teeth. “She’s a real cunt,” he said, wiping his lips with the paper napkin, “But I like cunts. How ‘bout you baby, you ever been with a black man before?”

I was stunned by his bluntness and mumbled that I was married. He got up and told me to follow him. I asked why and he didn’t answer but walked off. Foolishly, I followed him down to the basement of the building. The dingy dark room had a couch, a television, and a single desk lamp. He bolted the door behind us.

“You want to see this sweetie,” he said opening his jeans, letting them slide to the floor. He stepped out of his boots and stripped off his shirt. He was not wearing any underwear and the darkness of the room blended with the blackness of his skin. “Lets see your tits bitch,” he said slipping the thin straps from my shoulders. “Umm, good, I like them like that. Now come over here and suck my cock.”

He lay naked on the couch waiting for me to move. Covering my breasts with my arms, I shrank from him. I kept hoping I would hear voices outside the door but I could only hear my heart pounding and the roar of the air conditioning. “Now!” he shouted, startled I moved to his side and he drew me down. This was not supposed to happen I kept telling myself but my eyes were glued on his dark manhood, watching the veins pulse with his breathing. It was charcoal black and thicker than anything I had seen before and I knew I would hurt me. His huge scrotum dangled heavily across his thigh, ripe and full of seed, and suddenly I was terrified for my unprotected womb. Only his grip on my neck kept me from fleeing the room.

“Take it bitch,” he grunted, “Suck it hard. Then I am going to fuck that nice tight white pussy of yours.” Hesitantly my tongue touched the tip, tasting the saltiness, the smoothness and heat. Licking my lips to clear the dryness, I tasted more of him, sliding my tongue over his veined surfaces. His fingers worked under my panties, between my thighs, slipping between the moist folds. Drawing him deeply between my eager lips, I began to work my tongue over every surface, drawing pleasure from his grunts. “Damn, baby, you are good,” he said sending a tingle of pleasure down my spine, making me work hard to please him. He grasped my head and held it tight as his burning hot cum filled my mouth. Falling back on the couch, he half closed his eyes, pleasured by sight of my nakedness and humiliation.

The "Self Portrait" Series

1. The Shower

I love hot and sweaty sex, our bodies gleaming as we pull each other to screaming orgasms. But I always like to start clean and fresh. I want my lover smell the fragrance I put on especially for him, to feel my skin soft under his hard hands, my hair clean to dangle across his body as my lips wander from his face to his toes. I want my lover to be clean too so I can enjoy the pure smell of his musk and so my tongue can savor the sweet taste of his manhood.

2. My Pleasure

Is it better to give pleasure than to receive it? I think the answer is both. My lover knows how much I enjoy the taste of his cock and the sensation it gives me as I feel his body respond to my lips and tongue. He tries to hold back making me work harder to overcome his control. But I want to give him pleasure and soon he surrenders to my lips, gasping, his cum streams into my waiting mouth.

3. Flirtation by the Pool

Going with hubby on his business trip was not exactly a vacation… that is until he let me pick the hotel to stay in while he was in meetings all day. I wanted someplace private, away from anyone we would know. Someplace with a great pool or beach so could I wear my micro bikini, pretend I was single, flirt with the pool boys, and read trashy novels. My search turned up one with a 'Clothing Optional" pool area for adults and I booked it right away. With a stack of books and suntan lotion I went to the pool. My bathrobe hide the micro and I was not sure I would ever show myself in public. But after an hour of watching naked people swim, chat, and do very boring regular stuff, I shed the robe. I could see several of the men looking me over, a few wandered by, hoping for some sign of encouragement. I had buried my head in my book, dangling my feet in the pool when I heard a booming deep voice ask me if I knew the time. Looking up I saw the most magnificent black man. My breath was taken away by his presence and I tried not to stare at his nakedness but his cock was full and large, begging for my eyes to look, hoping for my lips to taste. I knew right then that I had picked the right hotel for my vacation.

4. Does this answer your question?

"How could you do this to me?" he cried after the shock had passed.  I didn't know how to explain it to him, he was my husband and friend but sometimes there are needs that a woman has that only another man can fulfill.  I was crying, knowing I had hurt him but knowing he deserved the truth... a truth he was to discover in only a few weeks.

5. A Day and a Night to Remember

His hand held my elbow tightly, forcing me forwards into the seedy hotel. The clerk at the desk looked up and waved to him, giving me an evil leer, licking his lips. “Wait,… your hurting my arm.” I said trying to pull away from him, but he kept me close, guiding me into the elevator. “Baby, this is what you want, you know it,” he said, and he was right… I needed him, right now.

I had met his plane, full of troops back from the war for a short vacation. We only had a a day and a night together before he had to leave. The room was shabby but clean. He had me out my dress in a minute, exploring my body with hunger, licking and tasting every part of me. He mounted me quickly and with a force that made me cry out, gasping as he came, his hot seed pouring into me. We waited only a few minutes before we were again tearing into each other again, the cheap bed creaking and crashing with every bout of love making.

6. The Breeding Shack

"... and over here, away from the slave quarters, is the breeding shack" the guide said. "Owners would take their strongest male slaves and breed them with young females much the same way as cattle or horses. Little difference was seen when a profit could be made by the slavers."

Walking past the breeding shack I noticed the tall black student in our tour group. He was looking at me and in his eyes I knew he could tell what I was thinking. He came over to me and said "I heard that during the slave rebellion they brought the wives and daughters of the white plantation owners here."

7. Through My Window 1

Working late was expected in the weeks before Christmas.&; Sam wondered why his shift supervisor always insisted Sam stay late on the evenings he left early. He didn't mind the extra pay and bonus he got for those shifts.  But it worried him that his new wife was alone too often. This was the time of year to be with family and he knew she missed him.  He made up his mind to leave before the end of the second shift.  Maybe they could have a late dinner together. She was often asleep when he got home... now he knew why.

8. Through My Window 2

I was laying on the sheets, my sex drenched body drifting off to sleep.  My black lover by my side, his sweat and juices mingled with mine. There was a noise outside.  At first I thought is might be from from the street but I could not make out what is was.  I heard it again and was sure it came from the window.  I turned my head slightly to listen more closely.  There it was again, it sounded like moaning or crying and suddenly I saw a figure in the darkness by the window and my heart froze.  "Darly! There is someone outside!" I said shaking my lover, "I think he is looking at us!" "I know baby," he said calmly, sitting up and turning his gaze to the window, "It is your husband.  Not sure how long he's been there but we put on a damn fine show for him. If he ain't going to leave, maybe we should do an encore for him.

The "Vacation Lovers" Series

1. Vacation Lovers

I was running late again for work and had my husband dropped me off. My boss is a nice guy but he is a stickler for people being on time. My heart stopped when we pulled up and he was standing at the door. His handsome black face usually had a smile on it but I could see him frowning and I knew I was going to get a lecture about being late. Blowing hubby a kiss, I scampered out of the car and dashed into the office. I almost made it to my desk when my boss asked me to come into his office. Instead of a lecture, he took out brochure for a resort hotel and asked me if I would like to spend a few days with him on the beach. At first I laughed, I assumed he was joking but he was very serious.

"But I am married," I told him.

"I know," he replied, "But you know I find you very sexy and I know you have dated black men in the past. Thought I would test out that 'Once you go black, you never go back' theory."

"Well, that is just BS," I said, "And besides, what did you think my husband would say?"

"This is just another business trip for me," he said grinning, "And as far as he would know, it would be for you too. Tell him that there is a big bonus in it for you too."

I just got back and there certainly was.

2. His Wife's Lover

He shivered as the cold reached through his thin shirt. He had been watching for hours, never moving, never making a noise. He watched as his wife's lover took her, making her give him pleasures she had never shared with him. Their love making had lasted for hours and now after their shower, he was going to take her again. He waited and watched, never moving, never making a noise.

3. All My Lovers - Jon

His name was Jon... or at least I think it was. He was someone I met and lost in the flurry of passion and regret that comes with being on the "rebound" from a lover I really cared about. He was not what I expected, but I was probably just what he wanted... a lonely white woman with a willingness to give her body to his desires. He was not handsome but he was skilled as a lover. He gave me pleasure and I gave him the passion that comes from coupling with a stranger, an abandon that you can only have knowing that there will be no tomorrow for both of you. I left his bed before midnight, my body aching from his love making but my heart sad with the love I was missing.

4. The Flood

After being filled-- then the flood. I know lots of women hate the big wet spot that forms after their lovers have filled them with their cum. We usually have to figure out some way to cover it with a towel or sleep on a cold puddle of love juices. But I have to admit, I always loved the sensation of feeling his cum in me, hot, spurting, with a growl of release. Knowing with each pulse and shudder his sperm is seeking my egg. It must be some primal instinct for women to enjoy wanting a man to flood her womb. The more the better. I know I have been thoroughly fucked when I feel the squishing, the dripping, and the flood when I sit up or walk with wobbly legs to go pee.

5. My African Vacation

6. African Village