This story is covered by © copyright and may not be reprinted, duplicated, copied or placed on any Internet Website without permission of the author
Tomorrow I will be forty years old. My story, however, begins nine years ago when I was thirty one...
My name is Jessica. I've been happily married for nine years to a wonderful caring man I met in college. We have two lovely children, a boy six and a daughter eight. My 31st birthday was yesterday and, as usual, my husband treated me to a night of dinner and dancing. He so enjoys doing for me that my pleasure's are equalled only by the delight he derives from making me happy.
We want for nothing really, nothing material that is. That's not to say we're filthy rich, we don't have yachts and jets, but we live extremely comfortable in a clean, safe upscale neighborhood.
When I was a child my mother religiously made an entry in her daily diary. She always told me her personal history was important to her. She found real satisfaction in reading and recalling her past, especially her spirited youth, lovers won and lost and the blessings brought by the love of having children.
I guess I'm my mother's daughter because I've been keeping a diary since I was ten years old. This is really where my story begins, with my diary.
Occasionally I enter thoughts that some people probably would think are best left unsaid. My husband knew I valued my privacy and, as far as I knew, had never violated that trust by reading my innermost thoughts.
To this day I don't know if I left my diary out in the open consciously are I simply forgot to put it away. Maybe, I don't know...maybe in my subconscious I wanted him to read it.
Anyway, his natural curiosity bettered him. He only read my most recent entry but it was enough to hurt him deeply. It took him several weeks before he admitted it to me but it disturbed him so much he decided he had to talk about it.
The entry read: "There are moments, like today, that a restlessness wells up inside of me. A time when I want to know what it would feel like to be fulfilled sexually. To have my womb tickled by the head of a huge cock, my imaginary G-spot probed, my total cunt cavity filled to capacity."
That was the entry in my diary. You can see how this would certainly concern a husband who thought everything was alright in his marriage. And our marriage was fine as far as I was concerned. Only when these occasional longings arose did I question my sexual fulfillment.
But everyone has their own therapy in helping themselves get along in life. Whenever these depraved thoughts tortured my mind I could usually eradicate them by masturbating. And I enjoyed these rare times because it almost always required multiple orgasms, a real treat for me.
But this particular entry in my diary, to say the least, could be interpreted as a direct insult to my husband's manhood. I can only imagine the agony this entry must have caused him. When he finally gathered the courage to confront me I could see the pain and hurt in his eyes.
My immediate reaction was anger. But only briefly did I entertain the thought of attacking him for invading my privacy. And I do mean briefly...Instead, my heart ached for him as he stood before me like a beaten man.
John is a gentle man, a man with a big heart, a devoted husband and father. His love for me is unquestionable as is mine for him. But now I felt I was put in a position to prove my love for him all over again. Not because I had done anything wrong... but, or so I thought, I might have a character flaw.
We put the children in bed that night and met back in the kitchen. I knew we were going to have a long, drawn out discussion.
I should interject here that our sex life had always been adequate for me. John has what most men and women consider a normal cock, about six inches in length. I rarely had an orgasm when we had intercourse. but John, being the considerate man he was, always engaged himself in a lot of foreplay. He also loved servicing me orally and I almost always had an orgasm from his superb tongue, He rarely failed to hug and caress me after intercourse, which usually ended with me falling asleep, totally content.
It took most of the night to finally convince John of my love for him and my happiness in the marriage. He wanted to know if all women had thoughts like the one in my diary. I didn't know and told him so. It just wasn't something my female friends would consider talking about.
He pointed out that men talk about sex a lot, usually lying about their conquest...or their manly performances.
I asked him, point blank, do men ever talk about their wives amongst themselves. He said they mostly talk about the wives of other men. I didn't understand. He tried to explain the "grass is greener" syndrome that husbands go thru.
For instance, almost everyday someone at the office would joke with him about his sexy wife, (me) and how the hell did he ever manage to get her...and hold onto her! I jokingly told him to please let his friends know I appreciated their complimentary remarks.
I thought that was the end of our problem, that our all night discussion laid it to rest. We even made love that morning before John went to work. He appeared to have his manhood back, intact, and a spring in his step when he left for work.
One month later John came home from work with a big surprise. Two airline tickets, first class, and reservations at the biggest hotel in Vegas. I was totally thrilled. He knew how I loved Vegas. We hadn't been there since our daughter turned three because we didn't feel that was a place to take children on vacation.
But this was to be just the two of us. He had made arrangements with his mother to keep the kids and we were going alone to dance, dine and gamble. He knew how I loved playing the slot machines.
The day arrived, we landed in Vegas, a limo waiting to take us to the hotel. And the two room suite was fabulous. Everything was perfect.
Our first night we took in a show, dined till we were absolutely stuffed, and I pulled on slot machines till my arms ached. It was great. The next day we slept, lounged around the pool and just did nothing. Very lazy.
About 8pm that night John decided we should go dancing. He loved to dance. I put on my most alluring dress, something to show all my assets and off to the dance floors we went.
During a band break John said he spotted someone he met earlier in the day. He excused himself and went to the bar to talk to him. In a few minutes he was back with the young man in tow. He introduced him to me as Peter, a sometime dealer at several of the hotels.
When the band began playing again John insisted I dance with Peter. Peter was taller than John, like six foot two, broad shoulders, small waist and a butt to die for. Extremely handsome man.
As we danced he complimented me on my dress, the way I danced and, in general, everything a woman wants to hear. But I wasn't born yesterday and I could feel his eyes and hands all over my body. As we danced it seemed as if he was deliberately pressing his manhood against my hip... The touch wasn't lost on me. I could feel that he was not normal, huge might be the word to describe it...and I actually feel it grow! I had a rush of excitement, and embarrassment, as we ground against each other disgustedly.
When we arrived back at the table John said he had a headache and was going back to the room. As I stood to leave with him John insisted I stay with Peter and a have good time dancing.
This was so uncharacteristic of John I asked Peter to excuse us for a minute and took John aside. I wanted to know what he thought he was doing, leaving me with a total stranger.
He explained to me he had met Peter on the Internet and this was his gift of love to me. I didn't understand. He reminded me of my diary and this was his way of letting me live out my fantasy.
Needless to say I was at a loss for words...in fact I was totally stunned!
Doing my best to regain my composure I tried to explain to him that I couldn't do something like this...I couldn't go off with a complete stranger and have sex. He was insistent! He pushed me back towards the table and walked away. I couldn't believe it. What man would do this for his wife, or for that matter, to his wife?
I was extremely uncomfortable as I sat back down next to Peter. It was awkward to say the least.
After a few drinks and several dances I began loosening up considerably. I became oblivious to to my surroundings as we dirty danced to every slow song played. I even forgot my husband...I was so sexually aroused by my peculiar situation.
The time of reckoning arrived... he asked me to his room for a nightcap. My voice was barely audible as I accepted. I could feel a knot developing in my stomach in anticipation of what might happen before the night was over.
He had a small room, a single with a queen size bed...and the only comfortable place to sit was on its edge.
As we sipped our drink he began nibbling my ear, licking inside, quickly turning me into jelly.
He stood in front of me, his belt buckle staring me in the eye. I quickly undone it, zipping down his pants...letting them fall to the floor.
There it was, staring at me. a freak of nature. An appendage so large it took my breath away. His bikini briefs could barely contain all of it and...and it wasn't even hard yet!
"MY GOD, WHAT A COCK," my mind screamed. I pulled it out of his briefs holding the head up to my lips. My tongue flicked out, touching it, tasting it, like a new lollipop to a three year old.
I could barely get it in my mouth, my jaw muscles ached trying to hold my lips open around it. As I slowly sucked the first two or three inches it began to grow in size. I thought the corners of my mouth would split. I removed it quickly not wanting it to harm me. So I licked it, the full length, so huge I could not get my fingers around it!
I looked up at his face, his blue penetrating eyes staring down at me. I blubbered something about it being too large, that I didn't think any woman could take a cock this huge.
He smiled. He knew my protest was weak, that there was no way I was leaving without trying. And he was so right, so very, very right.
I stood, turned, he unzipped me out of my dress. He forced me down on the bed, his body and arms so strong I spread myself submissively. He lay down next to me, kissing my cheeks stroking my bare tits. My nipples, so sensitive, so exquisitely painful to his pinch. I whimpered like a school girl.
He leaned over to the night stand and retrieved a bottle of lubricant. He handed it to me...without a word I began smearing it over his huge cock.
I was in such awe...never had I seen such huge manhood. My only point of reference was John...there was absolutely no comparison.
He wasted no time in straddling my body. I instinctively grasped his member and placed the head against my pussy lips. I began having misgivings again, I really thought there was no way this could ever happen.
He pushed slowly, the head stretching me to new dimensions, so wide I thought I would split. The pain...my god, the pain, I withstood it as I spread my legs even more for maximum room.
Two inches, three inches, four. My hips thrust upwards, five, six, counting no longer seemed to matter.
He was so strong, thrusting his huge cock into me, I felt absolutely primitive, sucking this huge piece of meat up into my very core. I knew the orgasm building in me would make me forget all the other orgasms I had ever had. This was going to be the big one, the one I fantasized about so many times.
And then it happened. I felt myself losing it, I had no control of my body. I began convulsing, screaming...gasping for breath...slobbering over my chin and neck. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. I never knew such bliss.
Peter's thrusting hips never lost stride. He continued to fuck me, and fuck me, and fuck me. I lost count... stop counting as I came...again and again!.
His thrusting abruptly stopped... he continued lying on top of me, his prick still buried deep into my womb. His staying power was incredulous. I was so tired, I closed my eyes and, for a minute, I fell asleep.
I was awakened by Peter's continuing, thrusting tempo and my own hip's meeting his...slamming that huge member in and out of me. We were at it again...my pussy lips were burning, rubbed raw by his massive prick.
How quick, I couldn't believe it, I was cumming again. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any more, when I would beg him to stop, another wave of that torturing pleasure would sweep over me.
My hands were clasping his taut ass cheeks and, for the first time, I felt his muscles tighten, begin to flinch. He was going to cum in me! I wanted it...wanted him to shoot in to me, fill me, and my pussy tightened...as if to swallow his cum and hold his hose in place. His cock throbbed, vibrating my clit...my god, I began cumming again...his gism seemed to fill and warm my womb.
I was so extremely tired...I was forcing myself to stay awake. Peter rolled off of me and went into the bathroom. By the time he returned I was dressed. He didn't understand and showed his displeasure. He had planned on resting a while and continue our fucking spree.
I apologized profusely, trying to make him understand that this was the best sex I had ever had in my life. But I also had a husband that allowed me this experience and didn't want him to worry.
As I walked down the hall to the hotel elevator my legs were wobbly, my entire body was sore and weak as a kitten.
When I arrived back at our suite John was watching television. It was five in the morning. I knew he would still be up waiting for me.
His eyes were searching for any difference in me as he followed me around the suite. His curiosity got the better of him and he began pummelling me with questions. I was so tired I wanted to wait till later, I wanted to think about my answers, not be tripped up and say something that might hurt him.
I undressed quickly and crawled into bed. John lay down next to me, still grilling me about my night. I kissed him on the cheek, told him I appreciated his gesture in allowing me to fulfill my fantasy, but I had to sleep. I was dead tired.
As I turned, buried my head in the soft pillow, I felt Peter's cum juice leaking from my pussy...I quietly reached between my legs, coating my finger's, and just as quietly placed them in my mouth...sucking on them till I fell asleep.
John woke me at noon. I staggered into the bathroom, my body seemed to reek of stale sex. It aroused me. I jumped into the shower, the hot water caressing my aching muscles.
I was relieved, but surprised that John didn't start in on me again about my sex with Peter. We went down to the hotel dining room for brunch.
Peter was setting on the far side of the room, alone. I watched as he rose and walked down a hallway leading to the restrooms. I told John I should thank him for being a gentlemen with me since...well, we might not see him again. I didn't wait for John's response, I arose from the table and walked down the hallway to wait for him.