This story is covered by copyright and may not be copied, re-printed or placed on any other website without permission of the author.
* * * * *
I'm writing this story for reasons only important to myself. Tomorrow I will be forty years old. My story, however, begins nine years ago when I was thirty one..
My name is Jessica. I've been happily married for nine years to a wonderful caring man I met in college. We have two lovely children, a boy six and a daughter eight. My 31st birthday was yesterday and, as usual, my husband treated me to a night of dinner and dancing. He so enjoys doing for me that my pleasures are equaled only by the delight he derives from making me happy.
We want for nothing really, nothing material that is. That's not to say we're filthy rich, we don't have yachts and jets, but we live extremely comfortable in a clean, safe upscale neighborhood.
When I was a child my mother religiously made an entry in her daily diary. She always told me her personal history was important to her. She found real satisfaction in reading and recalling her past, especially her spirited youth, lovers won and lost and the blessings brought by the love of having children.
I guess I'm my mother's daughter because I've been keeping a diary since I was ten years old. This is really where my story begins, with my diary.
Occasionally I enter thoughts that some people probably would think are best left unsaid. My husband knew I valued my privacy and, as far as I knew, had never violated that trust by reading my innermost thoughts.
To this day I don't know if I left the diary out in the open consciously are I simply forgot to put it away. Maybe, I don't know...maybe in my subconscious I wanted him to read it.
Anyway, his natural curiosity bettered him. He only read my most recent entry but it was enough to hurt him deeply. It took him several weeks before he admitted it too me but it disturbed him so much he had to talk about it.
The entry read: "There are moments, like today, that a restlessness wells up inside of me. A time when I want to know what it would feel like to be fulfilled sexually. To have my womb tickled by the head of a huge cock, my imaginary G-spot probed, my total cunt cavity filled to capacity."
That was the entry in my diary. You can see how this would certainly concern a husband who thought everything was alright in his marriage. And our marriage was fine as far as I was concerned. Only when these occasional longings arose did I question my sexual fulfillment.
But everyone has there own therapy in helping themselves get along in life. Whenever these depraved thoughts tortured my mind I could usually eradicate them by masturbating. And I enjoyed these rare times because it almost always required multiple orgasms, a real treat for me.
But this particular entry in my diary, to say the least, could be interpreted as a direct insult to my husband's manhood. I can only imagine the agony this entry must have caused him. When he finally gathered the courage to confront me I could see the pain and hurt in his eyes.
My immediate reaction was anger. But only briefly did I entertain the thought of attacking him for invading my privacy. And I do mean briefly. Instead, my heart ached for him as he stood before me like a beaten man.
John is a gentle man, a man with a big heart, a devoted husband and father. His love for me is unquestionable as is mine for him. But now I felt I was put in a position to prove that love for him all over again. Not because I had done anything wrong but because, or so I thought, I had a character flaw.
We put the children in bed that night and met back in the kitchen. I knew we were going to have a long, drawn out discussion.
I should interject here that our sex life had always been adequate for me. John has what most men and women consider a normal cock, about six inches in length. I rarely had an orgasm when we had intercourse but, being the considerate man John was, we always had a lot of foreplay. He also loved servicing me orally and I almost always had an orgasm from his superb tongue, He rarely failed to hug and caress me after intercourse which usually ended with me falling asleep, totally content.
It took most of the night to finally convince John of my love for him and my happiness in the marriage. He wanted to know if all women had thoughts like the one in my diary. I didn't know and told him so. It just wasn't something my female friends would consider talking about. He pointed out that men talk about sex a lot, usually lying about the conquest they've made.
I asked him, point blank, do men ever talk about their wives amongst themselves. He said they mostly talk about the wives of other men. I didn't understand. He tried to explain the "grass is greener" syndrome that husbands go thru. For instance, almost everyday someone at the office would joke with him about his sexy wife, (me) and how the hell did he ever manage to get her....and hold onto her!
I jokingly told him to please let his friends know I appreciated their complimentary remarks.
I thought that was the end of our problem, that our all night discussion laid it to rest. We even made love that morning before John went to work. He appeared to have his manhood back, intact, and a spring in his step when he left for work.
One month later John came home from work with a big surprise. Two airline tickets, first class, and reservations at the biggest hotel in Vegas. I was totally thrilled. He knew how I loved Vegas. We hadn't been there since our daughter turned three because we didn't feel that was a place to take children on vacation.
But this was to be just the two of us. He had made arrangements with his mother to keep the kids and we were going alone too dance, dine and gamble. He knew how I loved playing the slot machines.
The day arrived, we landed in Vegas, a limo waiting to take us to the hotel. And the two room suite was fabulous. Everything was perfect.
Our first night we took in a show, dined till we were absolutely stuffed, and I pulled on slot machines till my arms ached. It was great.
The next day we slept, lounged around the pool and just did nothing. Very lazy.
About 8pm that night John decided we should go dancing. He loved to dance. I put on my most alluring dress, something to show all my assets and off to the dance floors we went. During a band break John said he spotted someone he met earlier in the day. He excused himself and went to the bar to talk to him. In a few minutes he was back with the young man in tow. He introduced him to me as Peter, a sometime dealer at several of the hotels.
When the band began playing again John insisted I dance with Peter. Peter was taller than John, like six foot two, broad shoulders, small waist and a butt to die for. Extremely handsome man.
As we danced he complimented me on my dress and the way I danced, in general everything a woman wants to hear. But I wasn't born yesterday and I could feel his eyes and hands all over my body. As we danced it seemed like he deliberately pressed his manhood against my leg. The touch wasn't lost on me. I could feel that he was not normal, huge might be the word to describe it. And I actually felt it grow!! I felt a rush of excitement, and embarrassment, as we ground against each other disgustedly.
When we arrived back at the table John said he had a headache and was going back to the room. As I stood to leave with him John insisted I stay with Peter and a have good time dancing.
This was so uncharacteristic of John I asked Peter to excuse us for a minute and took John aside. I wanted to know what he was doing, leaving me with a total stranger.
He explained to me he had met Peter on the Internet and this was his gift of love. I didn't immediately understand. He reminded me of my diary and this was his way of letting me live out my fantasy.
Needless to say I was at a loss for words for a moment. I was totally stunned!
Doing my best to regain my composure I tried to explain to him that I couldn't do something like this. I couldn't go off with a complete stranger and have sex. He was insistent. He pushed me back towards the table and walked away. I couldn't believe it. What man would do this for his wife, or for that matter, too his wife?
I was extremely uncomfortable as I sat back down next to Peter. It was awkward to say the least.
After a few drinks and several dances later I had loosened up considerably. I could feel a knot developing in my stomach in anticipation of what might happen before the night was over.
The time of reckoning arrived... he asked me to his room for a nightcap. My voice was barely audible as I accepted.
He had a small room, a single with a queen size bed and the only comfortable place to sit was on its edge.
As we sipped our drink he began nibbling my ear, licking inside, quickly turning me into jelly. He stood in front of me, his belt buckle staring me in the eye. I quickly undone it, zipped down his pants and let them fall to the floor.
