Chapter 1: Exposition
James flipped through the channels on the massive TV in his bedroom, coming up empty-handed. He glanced around the dimly-lit room—immaculate in its opulence. His eyes lingered on the oversized brass bed with squeezable silk sheets, the lace canopy draping his body in a cocoon of luxury. Twelve throw pillows, like plump marshmallows, lay stacked against one another.
With a hefty sigh, he tossed aside the remote and crawled under the lavish covers, already damp with squeezable perspiration.
His mind, unable to surrender the day's worry, continued to mull over the same tired thoughts. Images of Kacey and Tony swirled in his head. How could he compete with a man so strong, so confident, and so undeniably black? With a pang of jealousy and self-loathing, he closed his eyes tight, as if to shut out the sinful visions blazing in the darkness.
The bedside clock blinked 12:47 AM with a muted glow.
James frowned. The stillness of the house conspired against him; even their golden retriever was in on the treachery, indulging in a rare night of silence. Lying there, a prisoner in his palatial bedroom, he replayed conversations with Kacey. She'd freely admitted her attraction to Tony and her desicion to accept his invitation tonight. They'd discussed before how it might spice up their sex life to indulge in a cockold fantasy, but now the real thing was upon him, and James didn't know how to feel. His stomach churned with apprehension and arousal.
James glanced at the open bedroom door, momentarily envisioning what Kacey might be up to. He bit down on his bottom lip, a thin line of discomfort. *I shouldn't be feeling like this.* He released the lip, then pinched the bridge of his nose. His mind flitted back to earlier that evening.
Kacey had prepped herself to perfection, luscious blonde locks cascading past her shoulders and a crimson dress that accentuated her every luscious curve. She was the eye-catching dish that James had proudly displayed on his arm for years, yet now he questioned if he was upstaged by the sheer presence of Tony.
James shook his head, trying to dislodge the growing insecurities. *Tony's a successful businessman, her boss.
Of course she's drawn to him, that's only natural*, he assured himself, but the reasoning sounded hollow in his mind. As he fluffed yet another silk pillow, he imagined his petite, well-to-do wife in the presence of Tony—powerful and robust. The room feel stifling, burdened by pricey furnishings and the weight of his mounting suspicion. Squeezing his eyes shut, he threw himself back onto the mountain of plush pillows.
*What is wrong with me?* he wondered. For a bigot, he had little business being married to a beautiful blonde woman like Kacey. He imagined Kacey in Tony's arms, writhing with pleasure, her cries of ecstasy drowning out the sound of the ticking clock in his mind.
He scowled at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the pattern of the elaborate chandelier's crystals. He realized his cock was rock hard with the thought of a black man fucking his wife. James sighed, overcome with guilt and fumbling under the silk sheets for a bit of relief. A few gentle tugs and his mind eased, thoughts of Kacey's pleasure dissipating the weight of his jealousy.
The grandfather clock in the hallway began its midnight chime.
James released his cock from its torturous grip and took a deep breath. *God, I'm so broken*, he thought, but then a devilish grin crept up his face.
He heard the door open downstairs, then Kacey's tread on the stairway. Here we go, he thought.