This story is inspired by a reader's comment on one of my stories.
All the characters in this story are over eighteen.
My name is Dawn and I'm forty-two. My husband Jack is forty-six and we've been married, for the most part happily, for close to eighteen years. I say for the most part because as any married couple know life together is a journey that has its bumps and bends. Our present bump began almost two years ago and of course it involves sex.
When we met, I was fresh out of university and had got a job that required me to move to London. I'd grown up in the North and although I'd visited London, I didn't really know anybody there. I was invited to stay with Lynn, a friend of my sister's, who was living in Baron's Court, one tube station beyond Earl's Court on the District and Piccadilly lines. Lynn, like my sister, was several years older than me and she had found a nice conversion flat on the second floor of an old townhouse.
She was kind enough to take me looking for a place of my own as I had no idea where to begin. After several failed attempts I was able to find a bedsit that was on near a station that would get me to my work without a need to change so that was good. I would have to wait a week for the current tenant to vacate, but Lynn assured me that I was welcome to stay with her in the meantime.
I forget which night it was, but she was invited to a party and said there would be no problem if I came too. I was always up for a party as things had been very quiet at home in the weeks since I graduated. We did not leave until close to ten and things were jumping when we got there. I was introduced to the host and a couple of other people and the Lynn said, "See you later."
I was on my own when some creep came up and offered me a funny cigarette. I declined as I don't do drugs and had no idea what might be in it. He persisted and this rather good-looking guy came to my rescue and told him to scarper. I thought 'scarper' sounded a bit old-fashioned, but it did the trick.
He introduced himself as Jack and offered to refill my drink and that's how I met my husband. I won't bore you with the details but on the third date by which time I had my bedsit he walked me home and I invited him in for a nightcap. He left in the morning.
While she might not have approved of that, my mother would have loved him. He was "brought up proper," as she would have said. Well-mannered but manly with it. He was six foot three, not chunky but not skinny. He played rugby on weekends, and I enjoyed going to watch his games though for the life of me I can't think why.
When he did meet my parents, they did love him and fourteen months later we were married. We had our honeymoon in the south of France. My first time out of England and I mean England. At that time, I had not even been to Wales, let alone Scotland. I'm not sure anyone in my family had. That trip to France was so exotic for me and I loved every minute of it. We both have very active sex-drives so between the nights and our desire to see and visit everything we came home exhausted.
Although Jack wasn't a virgin when we met, I found out he had been until he was almost twenty -two. He had only had about two short-lived relationships and four or five one-night stands. He had never given or received oral sex and was not really aware of the importance of foreplay. In our conversations where he would be deeply interested in me and also tell me of where he had travelled in various parts of Europe in his late teens. In contrast, in bed he displayed almost no knowledge other than knowing in which hole to stick it.
By the time of our honeymoon, I had helped him develop significantly and the honeymoon itself was a breakthrough seminar. I had to be careful not to appear too knowledgeable myself but rather to say, "I've heard this can be fun," as I went down on him, or "Why don't you try this on me?"
I don't want to give the impression I was totally experienced but I did date a lot of guys in my time at university and it was generally understood that if I guy took you to a movie or dinner on a date you would give him something to remember you by even if you paid your share. By contrast with Jack, I willingly gave up my virginity to the love of my life shortly after my eighteenth birthday and we shagged pretty much every night and morning until three weeks later, when I met the true love of my life.
He was older and taught me a lot and that romance lasted nearly a year. Of course, I knew when he went on trips that he was shagging other girls, so I didn't feel I was cheating if I sometimes found consolation with someone else. All in all, by the time I met Jack I think I had probably given casual dates forty or fifty hand jobs and sucked off at least half that number. As for sex I had fucked at least fifteen different guys and counting my two relationships must have done it close to three hundred times.
You can't be in a relationship like that without trying a lot of things and learning what you like and don't like. If any of you think having fifteen different guys by the time that I was turning twenty-three is a lot, you have a very limited awareness. I know girls who in trying to find some lasting romance, have had two or three times that number of one-night stands or aborted relationships. I consider myself both lucky and comparatively chaste by comparison.
Unlike guys we tend not to brag about it. It's not a source of pride. Unless your partner is your high-school sweetheart. She's likely had more partners than you had at her age. At least that's my experience.
Let's face it I enjoy sex, even mediocre sex. It's the feeling of closeness and intimacy and the possibility that it will be great. Plus, like everything else it's a learning experience. What is it they say? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again and expecting a different result. Well, if it isn't getting you off and the only sex you are having is letting the same guy put it in the same hole and go through the same routing, you are insane.
When I met Jack, I quickly realized that while we both loved sex, I must be careful not to frighten him. When we married, I took a solemn vow to be faithfully monogamous and I have stuck by it. Let's be clear, while for me regular sex is healthy and fundamental to my relationship, it is not its core.
When I met Jack, I found someone I could truly love at a level I had not experienced before. I was happy to rediscover simple sex and enjoy his discovery of the ways it might be varied. Together we found an illustrated copy of the positions of the Kama Sutra, and I pretended they were all new to me, quite a few of them were. Jack came home two days later with a version that had photos of real people doing them, including close ups, not just diagrams and that was definitely a turn-on.
Over time we discarded many but found the ones we really liked including the most everyday ones like the missionary position but with my spread knees held tight to my tits or extended into the air above his shoulders. That's one that let's him go as deep as he can go. All the cocks I'd had, remember it was only about fifteen, had not varied in length by more than an inch when fully erect.
I think that's common for the great mass of the male population. The longest I'd had brushed against my cervix in a way that could be exciting, but he was one of the brief encounters. A ship that passed in the night. I did know the difference between 'growers' and 'showers. Jack was a 'grower.' His flaccid three inches looked small against his six-three naked body. Even his full six inches looked small, whereas on a guy of say five-eight, it would have looked bigger in either state.
"Orgasms?" you ask. Yes, I have had some great ones but rarely without the help of fingers, tongues, and above all toys. It can happen but just with a penis but only when your mind has been stimulated to the point that it is inevitable. Of course, supposedly there was always the promise of what a really large one could do, but I had relegated that to the fantasyland of porn.
Quite early on Jack and I began to bring fantasies into the bedroom. He wanted to know about my past affairs seeking sexual details, but I said those were history and greatly underplayed the number of them, just admitting that, as a woman, I had possibly had more than him. After all, most guys are more than ready to see if you are willing. As we lay in bed, he liked me to tell him which actors I liked and what I would do with them, and he asked me to imagine I was with one of them as we fucked.
Several years ago, we returned to the south of France and found ourselves on a nude beach. It was not clothing-optional, you were expected to be nude. That cuts down on the gawkers. It was all very wholesome with couples and a family or two and absolutely no sexuality. However, after we returned Jack was inspired with more fantasies where he would describe how we were lying on a deserted beach nude. It began with him describing the things that he, or one of my movie crushes, would do with me on that beach and slowly over the months of retelling the beach became populated with curious strangers, or outright voyeurs, and eventually a ring of enthusiastic admirers shooting photos and videos of us as we fucked.
I confess I found his fantasy tales very stimulating even if some got a little over the top. He wanted me to tell stories too, but it was his thing not mine. Four years ago, he was pottering around online when he found Literotica. He became enslaved by the stories and led me to them. I confess I was more turned on by the best of those stories than his now well-worn beach fantasy. We would find ones we liked and read them together as a prelude to sex.
Curious, I started to look up members' bios and found that while many people gave little information, most of the readers were male, but there were also couples like us, and women too. Now I found that I too had stories to tell and began contributing. I didn't tell Jack I figured it would be a surprise when he came across them.
To this day he hasn't, but he stopped reading them to me and maybe at all. Instead, he started telling me his new fantasies. They all involve me either as an exhibitionist or more frequently getting into situations where I have sex with other men. At first, I did not mind these tall tales as they turned us both on, especially if there was something dangerously public about the location.
