I have always been known as the most conservative of my group of friends, but I was always self-conscious because of my weight. I got asked to dance last, got the least sex, etc., and it was fine with me. When I finally met and married Mike, everyone was amazed. I was so incredibly happy as I am to this day. But there was a time recently when both these facts about me were doubted very strongly by all of us, except me. I knew the truth since childhood that I was not uptight, that I was a closet freak in many ways too nasty for any of my 'liberal' friends to understand, and I never once doubted how much I loved Mike.
The catalyst for upheaval began with my husband's habit of collecting adult art, mostly mainstream, some soft erotic stuff, very little of it at all hardcore. He would get really excited when he found a rare piece and with few exceptions he didn't read them very much, while some he scanned into the computer.
Once I was cleaning in his office and when I bumped the chair, the mouse moved, returning to the desktop from the screensaver, which itself was pics of mildly suggestive adult art. There was a comic viewing client open but minimized. I decided it was break time and sat down to scroll through a few pages, as sometimes these images stir feelings of total lust in me, my intense, carefully guarded secret life. I maximized what turned out to be
The Diary of Sandra F
by Milo Manara.
The story is that one of Manara's fans sent in a few pages of her journal, and he brought them to life in adult comics. I like to believe it actually happened like that, because if it's a true story it's sexier. She got wilder and wilder and unable to control her masturbation and public flashing. I combined this swirling wash of excitement with my fantasies of being impregnated by a black stranger with a giant cock during a brief chance meeting, going home to my husband and having him try to lick it all out of me. I ended up with an out-of-control orgasm, leading to another, then a stream of orgasm flowing one into another. I was literally out of control. It was the first time in my life I was unable to stop myself from cumming.
Eventually when I had thoroughly soaked the fabric of the chair and my tired legs were shaking uncontrollably, I fell to one side, just enough to distract me and I was able to calm down. I was breathless, but still in a shaking almost panic level of lust and desire, I printed the most effective pages, took them to the bedroom and lay on my back, orgamsing almost continuously until I passed out. It was the most erotic thing I had ever imagined. I mixed the pages into my favorite short story, the tale of a supposedly conservative housewife totally losing control during her ovulation and being bred by black men when out on a girl's night out. Because I was so in love with the story I had added another chapter, where she (I) has the baby and her and her husband raise it together and they live happily ever after, at least until she's ovulating and her itchy pussy leads her to go on another Girls' Night Out. Until the diary comic, I had had many thousands of orgasms with this fantasy. As usually happens with us, I was unable to keep him from finding out about this fantasy.
He found a print out of the story hidden under the mattress when he surprised me by changing the sheets after we'd had a particularly messy 'session.' He was very discreet, but eventually he would tease me gently about it. I loved it, because it legitimized the whole thing. I think it got him off just as much as me, especially since he seemed to really get off fisting me, and moving his fingers around to caress my cervix, which drives me wild, but every time he does this I whisper while I'm able, that my only regret marrying him was that I never got to feel a black guy nudging my cervix with his giant cock. The reason I loved teasing him so much was that I really enjoyed his teasing, having my previous record orgasm when he joked that a black guy from work was going to have to stay with us for one night. He whispered in my ear about the guy's reputation for impregnating white housewives. I asked when he was coming and he asked me when I was ovulating. I told him that Friday night, and he said, "Wow, what a coincidence." That's the time I passed out.
One day when I was out running errands, I stopped on a bench in the park to eat a snack I had brought. Nobody was around and I felt myself being possessed by the spirit that had led Sandra F to loosen up and lose control of herself, and I felt myself reach down and pull my panties off. As an experiment I just let myself get caught up in it to see if it was fun. The whole reason it had been a successful fantasy was that it so impossible, so far-fetched that I knew I could never do it, yet as I sat on that bench feeling myself in a public place I started to wonder if it had been the next step, the beginning of escalation of stimulus toward doing something for real. This just fired me up more, and I got especially breathless when I tossed my dripping panties on the ground in front of me as two young college aged guys walked by.
They stopped and started back towards me, grinning, one of them instantly sitting beside me and brazenly sliding his hand up my thick thigh to my moistening, loosening pussy as I eagerly spread my legs for him. I gasped out loud because his hand was cold, but then started moaning as he pushed two fingers in easily, asking him for three. I was completely stunned that this hot young thing with an obviously rapidly hardening cock wanted me, wanted to fuck me, and my last at all cohesive thought was, "I wonder if he'll cum inside me..." He moaned and pulled his fingers out to open his zipper, and as I saw his nice big cock getting hard, straightening out as it came free, I whispered to him, "Please cum inside me..." This made him groan. My heart was trying to pound its way out of my chest.
Just as he moved between my thick thighs, a family walked by, and the two got up and casually left, my would be impregnator bending over to tuck himself back in. My heat gave way to genuine disappointment, which soon faded into shock and I became unbearably embarrassed and grabbed my panties and left before anyone else came along.
