I sat down next to my wife, Helen, on the very comfortable mattress of our double bed. She looked most virginal, with her shining blonde hair hanging down over her pale made up face. Her eyes looked very big and blue, outlined by her eye liner and her mascara made her look even more innocent. Around her slender neck was the silver crucifix I had bought her when we got engaged. Our white satin sheets made the scene look even sexier. Their whiteness contrasted erotically with the navy blue satin of her full slip, with its deep white lace hem, and the thick black bands of her black silk seamed stockings. He full lips were formed in a put, slightly parted, giving a glimpse of her perfect white teeth. She was a truly upper middle class girl; her accent was cut glass after years at an exclusive boarding school. For a moment I thought of those rough black men forcing their foul tongues between her red painted lips. Then I thought of worse things. I thought of them holding her by her hair and fucking her mouth until they came, making her swallow their black man’s thick creamy spunk, her gagging on big black pricks while they insulted her and others touched her through her nurses uniform. I should have just wanted to stroke her through her satin undies, but instead I grabbed her smooth bald pussy through her tight navy blue panties and squeezed it as hard as I could. My prick was rock hard and I had her again. The sense of shame at my desire was not so strong. I was very tired. Fortunately for me, I was on holiday from my job. Helen was on late shift again the next day. We could sleep in next morning. She surprised me next morning by asking me about what I had said about the black men. She had changed into a long white satin and lace nightdress. She always wore matching panties to cover her smooth hairless little pussy slit. The black man thing was becoming an obsession. I wanted big black pricks to open her up, really wide, make her scream, moan and orgasm in front of them, up against a dirty wall. I wanted them to hurt her pussy and call her horrible names, and maker her cum hard. It was worse than that. Those guys who hung the tube station were absolute yobbos, apart from a few really old West Indians who were there as well, but didn’t seem to be part of the young crowd. One of the old guys was some kind of cleaner because he wore a donkey jacket and often had a broom, or was picking up rubbish. Quite often he was pushing a broom. He was quite broad and tall and wore an old peak cap. His skin looked like wrinkled leather. Still I noticed him leering at Helen when she walked past. I wanted him emptying his cum inside her young cunt, pumping it deep inside her unprotected womb as violently as possible. I knew if he saw her in her exquisite and helpless feminine undies he would fuck her out of her mind. Her purity would be defiled. Helen’s hand was on my hard little prick. ‘My, my, I have never known you get so many hard ons Julian. What am I going to do with you?’ She said in her soft well-spoken Rodean accent. I said nothing as she started stroking my little prick and balls inside my pyjamas. In no time I was cumming and feeling ashamed of my disgusting thoughts. Then she shocked me by saying: ‘You want me to do it don’t you?’ After my orgasm, I wasn’t so sure. I was reaching onto the bedside cabinet for some tissue. She was watching me, but her hands were inside her white satin panties. She was rubbing herself. In a really posh little girlie whisper, she shocked me by saying: ‘It’s OK, I want to do it, whatever you want. They can do whatever they like.’ She was breathing hard and to my amazement her body was arching, her eyes other worldly as she came. I had never seen her masturbate before and it aroused me, in spite of my recent orgasm. I held her little body close to mine and whispered back to her: ‘Yes, yes, I do.’ In an even softer voice, she replied: ‘ I will do it tonight. I will make myself look very special. I will bring my little nurse’s cap home and wear my cape. I think they will like that. I’ll even take some high-heeled shoes in my bag and change into them before I come up the escalator. They will see me in all my glory.’ She looked very seriously at me as she said this. I just nodded, and said: ‘That will be nice, and will you wear a pair of those black silk seamed stockings I bought you.’ She blushed, then said softly: ‘Of course I will.’ I just gulped and lay back speechless, breathing heavily as she looked at me lovingly from her pillow.