Dianna's Awaening

Paul and I have been married for twenty-five years, and the routine of our life was set in stone long ago. On Sunday afternoon, he would spend time in the family room reading the newspaper or watching whatever pro sports were on at the time. Occasionally I would join him, but lately, I found that boring, so I started researching the internet for something I've been thinking about for a long time.

We had raised two children, the youngest having left the nest six months ago. When our second moved out, I converted her bedroom into a sewing room and office, where I set up my computer.

Today was the day that I hoped I would finally get up enough nerve to talk with Paul and address my boredom with our routine and to be completely honest with him.

I walked into the family room and sat down next to him, in my mind I'd gone over what I wanted to say a thousand times, but I couldn't find the words to start this afternoon. After fidgeting in my seat for several minutes, I turned sideways on the couch and pulled one leg up, bending it at my knee.

"I'm bored, Paul," I finally said.

He looked sideways at me and replied, "Do you want to do something this afternoon?"

I placed my hand on his arm before continuing, "I'm not talking about right now, Paul," I answered.

His expression told me that he didn't understand, so I continued.

"I'm bored with my life; to be more specific, I'm bored with our sex life," I said.

Our sex life began twenty-seven years ago when we started dating during our junior year of college; back then, we fucked like rabbits; every chance we got, we had sex. As the kids arrived, it became more scheduled, and I could always count on the days after my period ended as days when we would fuck.

I've always been somewhat self-conscious about my body; my tits are average in size, and no matter how hard I tried, I still had difficulty losing the weight I'd gained during my pregnancies. I would not allow him to see me completely naked, but once the lights were off, I always turned into a sexual minx. Paul often told me that my oral skills were terrific, and I loved getting him off with my mouth even though I never allowed him to return the favor.

Paul folded the newspaper and turned toward me, "When did this all start?" He asked.

I was scared to answer and avoided eye contact with my husband, "I guess it started the first time we fucked." I finally said.

He looked like I'd just hit him with a baseball bat. I'd just admitted to my husband of twenty-five years that I've been bored with our sex life from the very start.

Paul was speechless; having a bombshell like that dropped on him would stun any man. But for my sake, I had to say it.

"Paul, I love you with all my heart and always will..." I started, but he interrupted me, "Are you leaving me, Dianna?" he asked.

"Oh my god, no," I instantly replied.

"Okay." He answered.

"It just that I want to feel satisfied," I began to explain.

I suppose my use of the word satisfied provided some clarity as to where I was going with this. Paul is not well endowed when his cock is totally erect, it measures a measly three inches. It does get very hard, and when aroused pulses and throbs intensely. When he ejaculates, his balls provide copious amounts of thick, creamy cum, and to be quite honest, what he lacks in penial size he makes up for with digital dexterity, almost always fingering me to orgasm after I'd swallowed his load.

"So, what we're talking about is the size of my cock," he bluntly said.

I felt tears well up in my eyes and stared down at my bent leg, "Yes, I suppose it is," I finally admitted.

The initial shock of my admission caused Paul to angrily reply, "I suppose you have a plan to satisfy your craving for a bigger cock?"

I let his rude comment pass and replied, "Actually I've been looking at several swinger websites."

I could tell he was trying not to laugh, knowing I was serious. Then, he asked, "Don't swingers go in for orgies? I'm sorry, Dianna, but I don't see you getting naked in front of a group of strangers, then fucking anyone that wants to bury his hard cock inside your cunt."

I looked up at his eyes and said, "Could you please not use that word, I find it so demeaning?"

His anger welled up inside, and he instantly shot back, "Fuck you, I'll use any word I want you cunt." I could tell he instantly regretted saying that to me.

I wanted to get through this as quickly as possible to get away from him, so I tried to explain how the lifestyle works. "I've gone into some of the chat rooms as a quest and found out that while a lot of people in the lifestyle are into group sex, many are just looking for someone who can make them happy," I explained.

His anger was still evident as he said, "So guys go on these sites to find lonely women to fuck."

I looked up at him before saying, "You make it sound so dirty."

"Well, hello; you're telling me that you want to sign up on one of these websites to find a guy that you can fuck on the side," he shot back.

"Don't you want me to be happy?" I asked.

"Of course, I do," He answered.

"I think this will do that," I replied.

If there is one thing Paul could always count on, it was that once I get an idea in my head, there is no changing my mind about it.

"Let me guess; you want my permission to do this?" He asked.

For the first time since I sat next to him, I smiled, "Yes, I'd like your permission," I acknowledged.

He sat back, thinking for a moment, pondering his reply.

He turned toward me, took my hand in his, "I want you to be happy, Dianna, and if you're convinced this will make you happy, I'll give my permission with one condition. I want you to be very discrete and, more importantly, very careful. There are a lot of sick people in the world." Paul said.

He was stunned when I thanked him for granting permission allowing me to seek out another man, a lover, someone who could satisfy my cravings.

"So, when are you planning on getting started?" He asked.

My voice took on an excited tone as I replied, "I've already picked the site I want to join, and have a rough draft of what I want to say in my profile. The only thing I haven't decided on is a profile photo."

"Dianna, posting your photo on a swinger's web site isn't what I'd call discreet." He commented.

I was hoping that Paul would take some sexy pictures for me to use, but I didn't admit that "Pictures aren't required, and you do have the option of emailing photos to anyone you meet." I said.

"I'd stick to just a headshot for email, and not post any with your profile," Paul suggested.

He had a forlorn look on his face; after all, he'd just given me his blessing to seek out satisfaction outside our home. "You know Paul, I was thinking the other night that this could also spice up our sex life some," I said.

"Oh, really, how so?" He asked.

I smiled and replied, "I'll be coming home satisfied and horny as hell to suck your cock."

"Perhaps," Paul replied even though I'd just suggested that he be playing second fiddle to someone who had just fucked me silly. His jealous nature clearly came into play there.

"I'm going to go sign up, Paul. I'd like it if you could read my profile before I post it," I asked.

"Why not," He replied. I realized it was a little strange that he had permitted me to find other men to satisfy me, and now I was asking him to approve the words I'd use to seduce them into wanting me.

I excused myself and headed to my computer to put into motion my plan for satisfaction and happiness. Paul remained in the family room; I assumed contemplating where our marriage was heading.

It took less than an hour to fill in all the information, including giving my credit card info to prove my age and pay the nine-ninety-five monthly subscription fee for six months. I could have saved two dollars a month had I signed up for a year, but I wanted my options open if this site didn't pan out like I hoped it would. Once I clicked on the checkbox that I agreed to the terms and conditions, I became Swinger's Unlimited's newest member. My member name is Lady Di.

The one remaining thing I had to do was fill in my profile. I grabbed the paper, where I'd typed a rough draft and headed downstairs.

Paul was still sitting where I'd left him, looking somewhat forlorn and very worried. "So, is it done?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm a new member of Swinger's Unlimited," I replied.

As I walked toward him, I said, "Take a look at this." I sat down next to Paul and handed him the page.

At the top, I had typed my member name. "Lady Di." Below there were three headings in bold type. They were; Looking for, Description, and finally, Fantasies.

Paul held the page in front and read it aloud. "Looking for: Well hung men to share intimate times with."

Description: "Forties something female with average looks, build, and a very talented mouth."

Fantasies: "Being with more than one man, feeling a hard cock embedded in my throat, having pictures taken as I pleasure you with my mouth, and being satisfied with all my holes filled."

He placed the draft copy on his lap and said, "That will certainly would ward off any suitors with equipment equal to mine."

Paul remarked that my description left a lot to the imagination, but he thought the part about my talented mouth said it all.

"So, you have fantasies about being gang banged?" He asked.

I just smiled.

"And you want to be photographed while sucking another man's cock?" He asked.

"Yes, I do," I answered, then added, "I'd like to be photographed sucking several big hard cocks at the same time."

Paul seemed a little miffed since the only sexy pictures I'd ever allowed him to take was while we were dating, and I was modeling lingerie.

He handed the page back to me and looked directly into my eyes. With a somewhat sarcastic tone in his voice, he said, "You could have just said only big cocks need to apply."

"Would you change anything, Paul?" I asked, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible.

"Nope, you've covered everything," He answered, then added, "However, I want you to promise to share every photo taken of you sucking another man's cock. Oh yeah, if you get any of a hard cock embedded in your cunt or ass I wanna see those too, I might finally get a good look at your cunt."

I just smiled, but his comment about getting to see my pussy kind of upset me a little.

I dashed off to my computer, adding my profile to complete the process. Now that I was a member, I could search for men to contact possibly. The site has an amazing set of parameters I could use to refine my search. The first was sex, and I clicked on male, next was age, I set my age at 40 to 65, I only was interested in members with photos so that box got clicked the final parameter was the distance I set at 25 miles. I clicked on search, and almost instantly, a page opened, showing the men who fit. The members were sorted by distance, and I was amazed that the top profile showed a length of zero, which to me meant there was a possible match within walking distance, how convenient I thought. Still, the idea of having an extramarital affair with a man that close could pose significant problems if he also was married and didn't have his wife's permission.

I got engrossed in seeing other members' full profiles that I completely forgot about Paul and having dinner.

From behind, I hear Paul said, "Whatcha doing?"

I spun in my chair and said, "I'm just looking at some profiles."

"Get any inquiries yet?" He asked.

"No, it can take twelve hours or so for your profile to go live; it has to be reviewed by the site administrators first," I explained.

"I'm gonna hit the sack," Paul said.

"Okay, good night Paul," I replied.

I remained at my computer for a couple of hours, reading profiles, looking at photos of male members in the area, and fantasizing about being intimate with someone other than my husband. Pictures on this particular web site are categorized into three groups, public, private, and locked. Until my membership was reviewed and approved by the site, I could only look at the public photos; most of which were headshots or pictures from the waist up. I couldn't wait to view the private images that paying members are given access to.

I got up about 8:30 the next morning, and after making a pot of coffee and starting a load of laundry, I sat down at my computer and signed on to the site. My member page was still pending, so other than doing what I had done last night, I had to wait for my profile to go live. I figured I'd check again after lunch.

Since I had missed dinner last night, I decided to make Paul's favorite comfort food; hearty beef stew. It didn't take long to prepare the ingredients and add them to the crockpot. I switched the laundry to the dryer, started the second load in the washer, and then poured another cup of coffee. It was almost 11:00 when I finished my coffee. Geez time sure is moving slow today, I thought to myself; I suppose that happens when you're waiting to see what you're sure will excite you.

You can set your watch according to Paul's schedule he always arrives home at 4:45 P.M. Today, he was greeted by the savory aroma of a simmering pot of stew. He found me exactly where I was at bedtime the night before, seated in front of my computer.

"You're going to get eye strain," he said as he invaded my private space.

I spun the chair, blocking his view of the screen with my body. "I've only been here for a few minutes, and I spent the afternoon making beef stew for dinner," I replied

"And it smells delicious," he remarked, bringing a smile to my lips.

"We can eat anytime; I turned the heat down a little while ago," I said.

"So whatcha looking at," Paul asked, sidestepping a little so he could see the screen.

I turned my chair halfway toward the desk, "I was reading the inquiries I received this afternoon." I said.

"You got some, well good for you," Paul answered.

"I got three, judging from the time stamp on the first I think my profile went live about noontime," I said.

He moved a little closer to the desk to get an idea of what the screens looked like, "You got three in the first couple hours, wow, how did they find you so fast?" he asked.

I explained, "The site has several search features, you can search by age or location, or if you use the advanced search, you can find exact words in someone's profile."

"I get it," he answered.

I wanted to be upfront with him, so I said, "Would you like to sit down and take a look at all three?"

He grabbed the chair from my sewing table and moved it next to me, "It might be fun to read what words your suitors wrote to try and lure you into their sexual lair."

The inquiry inbox looked much like an email inbox, except that on the left side, there was a small instant messenger icon. I clicked on the first one, and it opened. It was from a member who called himself "The BIG 1," an apparent reference to the size of his cock. The subject line was blank.

Paul said, "I suppose the site could prefill that with would you like to fuck?"

In the body, this guy typed, "Is this big enough?"

"How can you tell if it's big enough," Paul asked.

I moved the mouse pointer over the icon near the bottom of the message. The word BIG 1.jpg appeared.

I had already viewed The Big 1's picture, so as I clicked on it, I glanced at Paul to see his reaction. His mouth dropped open when the photo appeared.

Big 1's cock was just that, the kind of cock I've fantasized about for years, it had to be at least ten inches; the shaft covered with bulging veins and his circumcised head featured a wide flaring corona. The photo was taken close up, so it provided no clue as to the shape and size of his scrotum or balls.

"Wow, that sure is a big one," Paul commented.

I wondered what was going through Paul's brain at that moment; was he thinking about that big cock filling my pussy or being stuffed in my throat. I felt a little bad wondering if he wished his cock was that size.

I had already created an "SU" folder on my desktop to store the pictures of men who contact me, and after right-clicking on Big 1's cock, I chose to save as then created a subfolder titled "The Big 1" and kept his cock picture there.

"You're saving the pictures?" he asked.

"Yes, so I can look at them without opening the messages," I replied. I didn't tell him that I hoped there would be dozens of subfolders in my master SU file.

Paul seemed interested in the photos, "Is this where you will store the photos you promised to share with me?" He asked.

"Absolutely," I replied.

I closed The Big 1's message and clicked on the next. This one was from "Making U Happy" In the subject line he'd written, "Let's explore making each other happy. This guy clearly had more to offer; in the body, he typed. "Lady Di: I read your profile entirely and believe we should explore the possibility of meeting. I'm a forty-nine-year-old divorced male who has been in the lifestyle for almost three years. I enjoy spending quality time with like-minded ladies to heighten our mutual sexual awareness. I occasionally accompany ladies to lifestyle clubs where guests can use private rooms to pursue their fantasies. Since we have not met yet, and I certainly hope we will, I'd suggest a public place for the first time, maybe a local coffee shop or a small tavern. I have attached several photos for you, and I hope that if you reply, you'll include one or two of you.

I look forward to a reply and hope that we can make each other happy. J

There were three photos attached to his message; I clicked on the first, which opened. It was a headshot; his dark tanned face was covered with a stubbly beard, and his smile was a brilliant white, what caught my eye most was his crystal bright blue eyes. "I like this one," I said.

"Be careful, Hun, he's a slick talker," Paul commented.

After saving the first photo to a folder named Making U Happy, I clicked on the second photo. It was a picture of his limp cock, about five inches in length and relatively thin in girth. "Interesting," I said as I studied the photo again.

We both knew what the third photo would show, but when I opened it, I gasped. As expected, it was a picture of his erect cock; taken by someone else from the side, it showed not only his cock but also his body from the waist down to just below his scrotum. The distinct tan lines proved that J wears a speedo when tanning. His cock had nearly doubled in size, rock hard, and standing proudly above his ball sack. It had a; for lack of a better word, a graceful curve which caused the sheathed head to touch his belly barely. Beneath the flesh of his uncircumcised cock, the outline of his corona was clearly visible.

I giggled as I studied his cock, then thought, "I can imagine that sliding inside my throat when I sixty-nine him."

If Paul weren't sitting next to me, I would already be typing my reply to J. His slick message; handsome looks and beautiful curving cock had piqued my interest. I could only save the picture to his folder for now, but I knew he would be getting a reply later tonight.

Paul sat back in his chair then said something very odd, "I wouldn't mind watching you fuck him."

"Really!" I exclaimed, making a mental note that Paul might enjoy watching me have sex with another man.

The third message was from a member called "Chocolate Thunder" I think we both knew what that meant. As I opened the letter, I thought about having an affair with a black man. I had fantasized about it but always felt that it would be taboo. But then again, a hard cock is a hard cock regardless of the color, and what I want most right now is the biggest hardest cock I could find.

The subject line was short, and to the point, it read, "No woman has been able to throat me yet."