Readers, this story is told in two parts.
The story presents the gift of self-confidence and assurance that a husband helps his wife to achieve. She has always under-rated herself and now at fifty-seven, she is convinced that no one else but her husband would want her and often wonders why he still does. This attitude has eroded her feeling of self-worth and knowing this, he is determined to help her be the woman he always knew that she could be. Read and discover what happens as they pursue his goal.
The story is told by the wife sharing her view of her what transpires.
Part one, addresses how he goes about trying to convince her of her attractiveness and desirability.
In Part two, we learn the effect that love, and confidence can make in a woman's life if she believes in herself, and the benefits they can bring to a relationship.
Enjoy this lusty tale that changes not only a marriage but the two people involved. Be aware that the story depicts exhibitionism, wife-sharing, polyamory and wife swapping. There is no connection to actual circumstances and no underage sex. It just a nice story.
Enjoy!
PART ONE
For the first time in my life, I was lying in a deck chair on a nude beach in Acapulco, reading a romance novel and sipping margarita swirls. Jack, my husband for the past twenty years, a black Bajan by birth, had brought me to a nude resort as a surprise gift. He knew that I had issues of confidence, particularly with displaying my body and wanted to prove to me as opposed to my own assessment, that I was still an attractive woman that other men would find as desirable as he still did.
He also wanted me to see that other women my age, had no shame in displaying what they looked like. He hoped that it would help minimize my self-consciousness when I could see for myself, that others with bodies in worse shape than mine were unashamed to be publicly naked. They still flirted and still thought of themselves as sexually desirable, something that he wanted me to experience.
I am, Virginia Lawson, "Ginny," originally from Alabama, 5'8", now weighing in about 160 lbs. mostly still appropriately placed. My brunette hair was now streaked with flecks of gray signaling the advancement in my years My husband, Jack, is the love of my life, and he is all man, not a wimp nor a cuckhold.
One of his goals in our relationship was to try to bring out as he calls it, the "dazzle" in me, which because of my natural inhibitions tends to stay submerged. He challenged me to go to an all-nude beach with him to see that many of the people who were there, were just everyday people and not model types.
So here I am, wearing a sheer black bikini bra which put my breasts and nipples somewhat on display but because they were covered by fabric, I somehow didn't feel naked...go figure. I also wore a sheer bikini. My shaven mons was covered by fabric and even though my ass was visible to the world, I didn't feel naked! A black and red serape cover-all was my bulwark to the feeling of total nudity. I completed the ensemble with a white straw hat and sunshades.
My husband couldn't understand my perspective in that, I didn't feel naked even though most of me was basically visible...so here I was, partially nude, sitting under an umbrella, checking out the men and the women who walked by.
The sea breeze tickled my toes and puffed its way up between my thighs which at fifty-seven, were still pretty good to look at. It caressed my shaven pussy through the sheer fabric and teased my nipples and face, creating the feeling of someone giving me a feathery, total body massage! I closed my eyes and pictured all that I had been looking at for the past hour. This resulted in an increased feeling of dampness between my thighs.
Even though, I was not totally naked, I knew that Jack appreciated the effort that I was making to grant him his wish. That is one of the reasons that I loved him so much; once I tried to do something, he accepted my effort and just kept encouraging me until I succeeded.
As I took in the passing parade, I saw some great bodies and (he was right) some bad ones too, many whose owners were not fazed and didn't seem to be concerned how they looked. I always felt that my fifty-seven-year-old body was not worthy of being displayed, but truth be told, it wasn't all that bad. My breasts sagged a little but still held their shape, my belly was a little round after delivering three children, but my thighs and ass stayed firm with little evidence of cellulite and looked pretty good for my age.
Even though I was not checking for that, I also saw so many small cocks, that I thought that it I was in the midst of a micro-dick pandemic! Some of them resembled a doorbell knob sitting amid hirsute foliage! Others an exhausted worm. Unlike me, their owners walked proudly.
My husband hangs at about five inches when flaccid, and I began to understand why he never seemed bothered by the seven or eight inchers that swung by every so often. He presented well. I, on the other hand was very self-conscious and wanted to cover up as much as I could.
"Ma'am, wouldjew like anudder dreenk?"
The voice woke me from my reverie, and I turned to see a short stocky well- formed black waiter standing next to me, carrying a tray, loaded with margaritas. At first, I thought to decline, but as I looked at his body and saw his strong chest, flat stomach, thick thigh muscles and strong calves, it dawned upon me that he probably could pound a mean dick up a woman's pussy, and I paused to look down at his package. It nestled beautifully inside a sizeable codpiece.
He wore no shirt or pants but was decked out in a white shirt collar, black bowtie, and white shirt cuffs. His body gleamed like polished ebony in the bright sunlight, as his rippled stomach reflected the light off its hard surface. I looked a little lower and my eyes took in his huge cock, encased in a sheer, black mesh pouch.
It swayed softly between those two thick black thighs and reminded me of a very fat plantain. I stared at it for a while from behind my sunglasses, lost in the vision of that fat cock ploughing me.
I was startled to hear his voice saying, "Laydee, are you ok, be you ok?"
His accent tickled me, and I snapped back to focus on him, confident that because I was wearing sunglasses, he wouldn't know that I was staring at his cock, but I saw a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth and realized that I was busted. He had in fact seen me staring.
I was not a fan of oversized cocks, but my husband's ultimate fantasy was of me getting fucked by a real, big one and although I wanted to do it to please him, I always felt that it would hurt too much and so I never seriously considered doing it. In addition, If I was going to do it, I did not want a semi-impotent floppy dicked older type guy who couldn't keep it up for long, but a younger man with energy and enthusiasm who would be able to maintain a good hard-on as he rode me. I thought, however, that nobody like that would ever want me.
Jack and I were not swingers, nor had we even had sex outside of our marriage, so it wasn't as if we were used to having sex with others, but we did enjoy our fantasies, and that was always Jack's number one. Don't get me wrong, I was not a prude. We fucked all over our house including our back patio and garage, in every position that we could think up, and even in some outdoor spots, but we had just not ventured outside of our marriage. We had discussed the possibility many times but never really tried to make it materialize.
This cock, however, was just so beautiful. It was jet black, thick and heavy without being humongous. A large vein ran down the center of the shaft and the head was mushroom-shaped and purple in color. His shaven balls were not the type that were molded close to his penis but hung low and were the size of Grade A eggs which were absolutely lovely.
Suddenly I was thirsty, and I cleared my throat and said, "Yes, please, maybe I will have another."
