If you read chapter 1, you already knew my name was Anne Marmos. If you haven't read it, you should. I'm 35, widowed three years ago. Before he died, my husband Ian and I had been swingers based in our Montclair, New Jersey home. Appearance-wise, there's nothing extraordinary about me. I'm five foot, four inches tall, weigh 120 or so (and that "or so" could be ten pounds. Usually heavier rather than lighter.); I have 34b boobs, wide hips, my legs go all the way to the ground, and I used to crave all kinds of sex.
I also used to pooh-pooh any conversation about size and sex. While my husband was alive and I was his hotwife, I wasn't concerned about size or even number. As a matter of fact, what I found was that most of the men I had encountered who were well hung were lousy lovers. Most thought that their size entitled them to anything they thought would please them, and the hell with their partners. As if an accident of birth that rewarded them with extremely large dicks was in itself some sort of gift that every woman should love. In most cases, they had succumbed to porn philosophy. We were swingers who were into more than just sensations. We demanded to have people in bed with us -- not just body parts.
As I said, Ian died suddenly. I went into a tailspin, frankly. I became a hermit, and eventually moved across the US to Fresno. I got a small apartment, a rather ordinary job doing the books for a life insurance company, and tried to become the polar opposite of the way I was back east. I did all right for a year or so, but I came across some "it ain't the meat, it's the motion" opinions I had written a long time ago, and began to once again remember that I was a woman who had once been a very sexual being. Those notes got me to thinking about sex again, but not to the point of having it with others. I rediscovered the joy of orgasm via the task of masturbation. I was a self-contained orgasm machine, as long as my hands worked. And they did -- thought I was going to need carpal tunnel surgery at one point! The good news was, that if I had required it my job would have covered it. But fortunately, that never happened.
Masturbation was never just for men, anyway. And those who say "women's arousal isn't a visual thing" are only part right. I stumbled on Literotica, and began to read. Some stories left me cold. Others got me wet. I wasn't a fan of romance novels. They were the equivalent of softcore porn that my husband used to complain about from his travels. You know -- they charged $8, showed a lot of tits and ass, and never anything else. It was all left to the imagination. Having watched hard core, Ian found it to be a real rip-off. That was how I regarded most "bodice rippers" until I found that there appeared to be women writing about sex on Amazon. I now had a wider range of stuff to read -- and I did. There were a lot of kinky women writing about sex all of a sudden -- either that or porn writers were claiming to be women and just going more mainstream.
While I wasn't a big fan of home movies, I figured that in this day and age they had to have improved. And maybe folks like those we used to swing with were making them. I remember when we needed usernames, passwords and subscriptions to view porn (I guess that dates me, doesn't it?). Now, however, even Google had listings for "top ten best free porn sites" and the like. I wanted to see people doing what I had been reading about. I started out watching videos on one porn site, and really didn't stray since they had thousands of videos in lots of categories. At first, I was delighted to find myself aroused by plain old, vanilla sex. My pussy still worked -- I got wet, I was aroused, and I came if I played with myself. I wasn't ready to be with people, so it was a substitute. But here's where that "porn affect" comes in -- I found that watching anything more than once had little effect. I needed something new and different. So I began to explore different categories. Most were things I had done in the past: girls giving head, or taking it up the ass, or with multiple guys, or with other women. And again, I reached a saturation point with each and had to look for something different to arouse me and keep my attention long enough to reach orgasm.
I won't retrace the steps I took through all those categories, but ultimately, I began to watch other women masturbate. From the simple furious rubbing of their clits, it was a short step to watching them make use of things like dildos. Vibrators. Vegetables, for crying out loud! (And yes, I looked at cucumbers and squash in a whole different light after that. I did more than just look, by the way. Now use your imagination.) And then I encountered videos of extreme insertions. I watched in amazement as various women began inserting larger and larger items in their cunts -- and apparently had amazing orgasms. By this time, I was like a guitar player who worked to play along with her hero's recordings. I began to assemble a collection of toys. And the same thing happened again -- I would eventually become bored with an item that once rocked my world. Which meant I needed to try something new -- and that usually meant bigger as well. The 9-inch silicone flesh covered dong that once was my favorite size now no longer was enough. In reflecting, I can see that when I was swinging, 9 inches was not a common size so when one appeared it was always a surprise. Owning my own, however, meant that it was my primary toy and the novelty soon faded. At least, that's the closest thing to analysis I've done. I also had the thought that there was something especially exciting about being stretched wider and wider -- the pain that became pleasure as new sensations resulted from it.
There really wasn't a market to resell used sex toys; I actually built three shelves in my closet to keep them -- and the supplies that needed to go with them, from cleaning solutions to various lubes, stockpiles of all different sized batteries, USB chargers for the more technically adventurous items that came with rechargeable power, and anything else related. I also managed to amass a small library of videos as well. I mean, there were classics, from "Deep Throat" to "The Devil in Miss Jones," "Debbie does..." and more, just because they were fun. And at the same time, I kept going in my online search for stimulation.
I was initially put off when I encountered fisting, but I was soon drawn to it. Vaginal. Anal, Combinations. I saw videos and read stories. At first, I was sure it was at least a two party thing -- until I finally found the ones of women doing themselves. That night I watched for hours, mesmerized as model after model found a way to insert her entire hand into either available hole. I rubbed out orgasm after orgasm that night, going through most of a bottle of lube when my own juices dried up. I was short on sleep the next day, and had to work hard to appear to walk normally when I went into work.
If you read the previous chapter, you'll know I got brave and posted on a hookup site. "38 year old widow, lives alone in the Fresno area, very experienced with men and women, looking to explore extreme personal satisfaction." My user name was Fistually. I also included some pictures -- a very R rated public one, but some graphic private ones. And I met someone right away. Sally lived across town, was single, and into big. Big men. Big toys. For her, size mattered and within a few days I received the benefits of her experience. We now see each other regularly, and I will eventually find the time to say more about our adventures. There were others, including one from an old friend that led to another set of adventures, but this is about one from a guy who I initially put off with a "what will I get out of it" response to his email.
"Hi.I wanted to follow up in answer to your email. I showed it - and your profile - to my wife. She told me we had to try to hookup with you. We tried to interpret your words, and here's what we figured. You are looking for some help in exploring extreme insertions. If that's correct, we are certainly a couple for you to consider. First off, I'm extremely well hung. Penny measured my cock at 11 inches hard and 9 inches around. And as for her, well, that's still not big enough for her, so we have come up with things that are. Like my fists, for instance. She wants to find another woman to join us. She says she wants to make sure other women get the experience. Anyway, between us we are guaranteed to provide extreme sensations and satisfaction. Look at our private pics and see what you think. We live 45 minutes from downtown and often host others. Let us know. All the best, Jimmy and Penny."
Damn! Seems as though more folks were into this than I thought. The intriguing aspect was that this was a couple -- not just some horny guy. And they too had private pictures they made available to me. I looked and got hooked. The very first private picture had me dripping wet within seconds of putting it on the screen! Penny -- I presume it was her -- had the same big dildo Sally had. The one that looked like it came from some cartoon fantasy man-dragon -- that one -- and next to it was a huge real cock, which I presume was Jimmy. I tried to imagine either one of those up inside me and I knew I needed to see more. There were a series of shots. In the first one, Penny (again, I assumed. I was right, by the way.) sat facing the camera. Her tits were magnificent -- large, natural, hanging low but not drooping, with large, dark areolae and big nipples. But what was really impressive was that her hand was buried in her pussy. The next shot was similar, but from a different angle. In this one I could see an enormous cock jutting out from a pair of thighs.
In the following sets of pictures, her hand came out and was replaced by that enormous cock. Then there was a set, each taken within instants of the other, that showed her squatting above that same cock and slowly sinking down on it. By the last one there was actually a distention of her stomach! After that, the man disappeared and she was doing the same thing on that dragon cock. There was another one where she was on her back. Legs spread wide, and a baseball bat was sticking out! The series with a wine bottle blew my mind! A wine bottle?! Then came that big cock -- and watching it slowly enter her asshole until it was balls deep had to have been the hottest things I'd see. These two were neighbors -- practically -- and they were into sizable things. I had to meet them. Who knows -- maybe I'd introduce them to Sally?
I wrote back. "Hi Jimmy and Penny. To say I'm hot to meet you guys is an understatement. After looking at your pictures, any time I see something even vaguely phallic I get wet! Most recently it was a flag pole! Anyway, I definitely want to meet up with you guys. I'm relatively new to this -- the quest for size, that is. Can we meet somewhere first, have a drink or two and then see if there's chemistry? Please call me. My name's Anne Marmos." I included my cell number, and as soon as I hit send I reached for the largest dildo I could find. I was so wet it went all the way in without pause. I was just about to decide which speed setting to use when my phone buzzed.
"Hi Anne. This is Penny. I want you to know I have a butt plug in my ass, a Jeff Stryker model dong in my pussy, and I'll bet you are doing something similar. Am I right?"
"No butt plug, but other than that, yeah. I used to think that calls like this only happened with guys. This is a bit of a change, I must say. I got so wet looking at your pictures my favorite dildo met no resistance whatsoever. I mean, damn, Penny, is there anything you won't fuck?"
