This story is preceded by two chapters. I didn't set out to write my autobiography, so if you've read them and there are discrepancies, too bad! The basics are the same. I'm Anne Marmos, 35, widowed, and living on my own across the country from where I lived while married. My husband and I were swingers and I probably had more sex in a month than some folks have in a year. All sorts, by the way. But once Ian died, I folded like a cheap sheet and essentially ran from all of that. After a long time without sex (as in years), I came across some thoughts I put down that seemed to be a defense of the old "it ain't the meat, it's the motion" sort of thinking we women would offer to our less than well-hung guys. From there I found my sexuality re-emerging, but in a very surprising way. I began craving bigger and bigger things to insert in my newly awakened pussy, so much so that I was alternating between fisting myself and buying larger and larger dildos. The problem was, however, that what I really wanted was to take my attention off doing anything and solely receive.
The "online scene" was new to me after my husband's death. It didn't even exist when we were dating; when we were swinging all introductions were personal. So now, having moved across the country and away from my old circle of friends and lovers, I dipped my toe into that new electronic world hoping to find some very specific companionship. I took a chance and posted to a site that seemed to be oriented towards sex -- versus "falling in love and finding the perfect other" - and waited. One thing I discovered was that even though I mentioned my location (Fresno, CA) I received responses from all over the world. Did you know that even Canadians are into sex? Who'd have thunk it? At any rate, I sort of pointed to what I was looking for: someone interested in filling my holes with large things, be they organic or otherwise.
Here's what I posted: "35 year old widow, lives alone in the Fresno area, very experienced with men and women, looking to explore extreme personal satisfaction" was how it came out. I called myself Fistually (and was surprised when no one else had claimed it), took a bunch of selfies and selected a nude for the profile that hid my nipples, hinted at my neatly styled pubic hair and cropped it so my face wasn't visible. I had some explicit photos that I labeled as private; I figured that that would be the next step if I got something of interest.
A lot of email came from men -- or at least, they presented themselves as men. I mean, I would get invited to respond and given permission to their "private" pictures, which primarily consisted of dick pix. And, as it turned out, I recognized more than a few! Not because I'd personally encountered them, but because they were either screen captures or just blatant rip-offs from porn stars! The first giveaway was the image quality -- home-made snapshots might show enormous cocks but were inevitably lousy pictures. A really good picture of a big cock couldn't be done as a selfie. So, most of those posers got ignored or told off. I had a couple of stock responses I could paste into replies -- if they took it a step further and replied to those, I gave them access to my private photos. With at least two men, that evolved into a long string of very hot emails. And they have an open invitation, should they ever travel to the US, to look me up and do with me as they please because how they described those things pleased me. I still review those emails from time to time and still masturbate to them.
One woman from my area (Sally) and I are now officially "friends with benefits." As in, our friendship benefits me because she wants is to stretch my holes to new extremes, and I want her orgasms to be better than ever before." What gets her off the most is working newer and larger items up into my pussy. She, in turn, gets an audience -- me -- and an "assistant " as she takes even bigger things into her amazingly resilient pussy. I've now managed a few inches of her monster-like dong -- the one that looks like it could actually have been attached to a huge cartoon monster. She, on the other hand, can take the whole thing! It's amazing to watch, and she loves to show it off to me. The fact that I am happy to provide additional stimulation to her tits and clit might have something to do with that, I suppose. In any case, we now get together regularly and it's always been both exhausting and amazingly satisfying.
I also found a married couple -- Jimmy and Penny -- where he is enormously hung and she's become a size queen looking to convert other women. Like myself. I already wrote about some of my encounters with those folks. Time to move on to some of the other emails and adventures.
As I said, I mostly got dick pics from guys, and most of those didn't even get me interested in getting wet, let alone lead to moisture in my pussy. Eventually, however, there was one from a woman. Her profile picture took the same approach as I did -- sexy without being x-rated -- and it was her writing that drew me in. "Hello, Fistually. First off, I had to write because your profile picture strongly reminds me of a good friend I haven't seen in years. We used to swing together, then she lost her husband -- like you apparently did -- and she moved away. In any case, I'm writing because since then I've become a fan of solo endeavors. Extreme endeavors, actually. None of the guys I've ever met can fill me up as deeply as my toys. I've done some fisting and have been looking to do more with the right person. I'm not near you, but I travel to California at least once a month on business and thought we might want to meet. If pictures are important to you, then see if mine are interesting. Love, Diane."
I was stunned. I knew a Dianne before I moved to Fresno. She was part of the swing clubs we played in. It couldn't be, could it? When I clicked on the pictures, however, it was very clear that it could and it was! Dianne Nonce, there, naked, her big nipples clamped with alligator clips, her pussy stuffed with a large dildo, and a look of absolute bliss on her face! She and I had not only been part of the same groups, but we had done gang bangs together; we had also "done" each other more than a few times. We were both primarily hetero, but at the same time we dabbled with the bi life. Amazing! Memories that I had suppressed for a few years came back, and I found myself in tears as I remembered life before the move.
I had to write back. "Hello, Dianne. It was no accident that my profile picture brought back memories. Because it's of a body you had gotten to know fairly intimately at one point. Yes, it's me, Anne. And yes, things have changed for me. Probably for everyone, I guess. I've been living here for three years now, alone. I'm still not ready for men in my life, but I've recently rediscovered a sex drive, and now have begun to pursue it. Very recently, as a matter of fact! So yes, we ought to meet the next time you come to California. We can catch up. Compare notes. Fill each other in. Whatever comes of two old friends (and lovers) getting together. I have a guest bedroom; come stay here and save on hotels! Oh yes, I've given you permission to view my private pictures. Perhaps when you are here we can expand that library. Let me know if you're interested. Love, Anne."
Since it was close to midnight and she was back east, I hit reply, turned off the computer and the lights and went to sleep. If I recall correctly, I had my first sex dream
"Anne, it IS you! We all have been wondering what happened -- you left without saying anything to anyone. I'm definitely going to want to hear more about that. Until then, I won't say a word to anyone. Now, as for what you are into, well, I completely understand. I think it's kinda funny how you used to be a champion of the average guy, and now you've apparently discovered the exquisite sensations of extreme insertion. I got into it a few years ago -- after you left -- and I've been through all kinds of changes about it. I even saw a therapist about it, and that's where I finally realized that I was worried what others might think -- and how ridiculous that was. The only way someone would find out had to involve sex, and if they took it badly that's their issue. Not mine! I belong to a small group of women and a few men who practice extremes. We have videos -- they just aren't public. I'll ask and see if anyone has a problem with my sharing them with you. In the meantime, I'll be out there in three weeks; I have a Tuesday morning meeting, and could come as early as Friday night if that works for you. We have lots to catch up on and explore. Here's my cell phone number -- feel free to call! I'm so happy to find you again! Love, Dianne."
Wow. One of the things that came from her response was that my pussy had gone from moist to swampy -- I was essentially dripping! I immediately got out my Magic Wand and applied it to my clit, coming almost immediately! Then, at least partially satisfied, I went to my toy shelf and grabbed my largest dildo. Pressing the suction cup to the floor to secure it, I was quickly kneeling above it and -- without lube, for crying out loud -- sinking down on it and loving the way it was spreading me apart. My eyes closed, I remembered how Dianne and I had often sixty-nined in front of our friends. I pressed the bulb of the vibrator back on my clit and starting coming again. Each jerk of my hips drove that dildo deeper and deeper until I had all ten fat inches up inside me. I kept going until I simply couldn't take any more. I turned off the wand, broke the suction to the dildo and lay back, reveling in the sensations.
When I came to and could stand up, I took a quick shower and figured it was time to call her. I sat in bed, propped up, my phone arranged to show all of my face and as far down as the tops of my boobs. If we went to Face Time, I would be able to show more. If not, well, too bad. She picked up on the third ring. "Anne? Is it really you?"
I was so tempted to reply with one of my snappy comebacks (reading Mad magazine, I was addicted to the late Al Jaffee's "snappy answers to stupid questions") but caught myself in time. "Hi, Dianne, it's so amazing to talk with you again. And even more amazing to find out that we've both begun to find a common ground of sorts. How are you?"
"Naked" she replied. "Oh, you mean something like how am I doing, right? I mean, I am naked, but you'll just have to use your imagination -- or your memory."
"Are you on an iPhone?" I asked.
"Yes, why?"