Dianna’s Awakening

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.”

In the body, he continued with that thought, “Could you be the first?”

“Oh boy,” Paul said as I clicked the photo to open it.

I instantly understood what he said, his large hand was wrapped around the shaft at the base and what extended from his fist had to be another eleven inches of very black cock. The shaft was covered with a matrix of blood-engorged veins that made him look even harder. Of the three men who had shared their cock pictures, Chocolate Thunder had the fullest cock head, and the corona, which was a slightly lighter color, made the top of his cock look like a mushroom. This photo was taken as he climaxed, a long strand of thick white cum dangled down from the tip.

“That’s one huge fuckin cock,” I said.

Paul looked away from the massive cock and said: “I can’t remember you ever talking like that before, but I have to admit I liked it.”

I saved his photo to the CT file that I had created and sat back in my chair. “What do you think, Paul?” I asked.

“I think you need to be careful about this whole thing,” he said, kind of breaking the excitement I was feeling.

“Should I reply to them?” I asked.

He stood up and moved the chair back to the sewing table, turned toward me, and said, “I think you should at least acknowledge that you got and read their messages, but I won’t tell you which one, if any you should arrange to meet.”

He left me alone with my thoughts and headed downstairs to have some homemade stew. I followed him into the kitchen as he ladled some in a bowl I asked, “Can you get me some please?”

Paul placed our meal on the table and grabbed a two-liter of diet soda from the frig. “Do you need ice?” he asked as he poured us some soda.

“I’m good,” I replied.

We didn’t talk much during dinner; he had nothing to say, and I was distracted by the decisions I was about to make. When we finished the delicious stew I’d made, I cleared the table and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. “Will you excuse me for a while,” I asked.

“No problem, I’m gonna watch the news,” he answered.

I dashed off to the office to re-read the inquiries and decide which one I’d reply to first. I opened The Big 1’s message first not to read it since he’d only typed a few words, but to use the link to view his profile page again. When the page opened, I noticed a couple of things; now that my page was active, the site calculates the distance between zip codes and displays that on the page. Big 1 is 35 miles from my location, his profile photo, which for some reason, he hadn’t included with his inquiry opened when I clicked on the small thumbnail. He is a burly looking man with robust facial features and dark eyes. He sported a horseshoe mustache that curved around the corners of his mouth and down to his jawline. He reminded me of that guy on television that builds custom motorcycles. I saved his picture in his folder. Scrolling down on the page, I read what he is looking for again. A hot momma who can handle a big one and enjoys having a rumbling machine between her legs. In the description section, he wrote; Six three tall, muscular, darkly tanned, usually wear jeans and sleeveless shirts. Enjoy Country music, Western movies, and road trips on my Fatboy. His fantasies included only one: Live to Ride / Ride to Live I didn’t understand what that meant. When I opened his photo album page, there were three albums. The one marked profile contained the face shot I’d viewed and saved earlier, the second album titled private, and a third titled locked. Any paid member can view the private album, but access to the locked album had to be granted by Big 1. I opened the private album. It contained eight photos, the thumbnails were clear, but I still opened each photo. I got some understanding when I viewed him straddling a shiny black motorcycle, which I assumed was his Fatboy. There was a picture of a tattoo on his upper arm it depicted a bald eagle with two banners mingled among its feathers, one said Live to Ride and the other Ride to Live. The only picture I saved was one of him standing beside his motorcycle bare-chested in tight jeans. He was tall, muscular, tanned, and very hairy.

I sat back in my chair and thought about Big 1, He was clearly a biker, and from his description, he wanted a woman who enjoys big cock but also likes to have a rumbling machine, aka his motorcycle between her legs. I could see myself straddling Big 1 to ride his incredible cock, but straddling his bike to go on a road trip didn’t seem like my cup of tea.

I went back to my inquiry inbox and opened Big 1’s message then clicked on reply typing “Big 1, thank you for contacting me. I’ve read your profile, and unfortunately, I don’t believe we are a match. I’m just not the biker chick type. I hope you find exactly what you’re seeking. Good Luck, Lady Di.

I thought about telling him that if he wanted, I’d be happy to meet just to enjoy his big cock but decided there would be others. I sent my reply and deleted his inquiry from my message inbox.

I clicked next on Chocolate Thunder’s message, mostly because I’d already decided that my first meeting would be with Making U Happy.

In my reply, I told him that I am a newbie to swinging, and I need to get my feet wet before I took on the challenge of throating his massive cock. I suggested that perhaps I’d contact him in a few weeks or months to see if he was still interested. I kept his inquiry and opened the photo of his humongous cock again. I wondered if his cum tasted as good as it looked dangling off the tip of that big beautiful black cock.

That left Make U Happy to reply to. I opened his inquiry message and re-read it several times than his profile to review the information he offered there.

In his looking for description, he typed; A sophisticated woman who is educated and wise to the skillful art of seduction. Someone who enjoys conversation, fine dining, and believes in foreplay. A woman wants to be happy and make her lover happy, someone that wants to advance herself in the lifestyle by attending mixers or swinging parties at one of the many clubs in the area. He described himself: I’m a forty-nine; soon to turn the big 5-0, divorced male five feet ten inches tall. I enjoy the sun and have an almost all over tan, enjoy going to the gym to keep myself in reasonably decent shape. I have what I would describe as average-sized genitals with above-average staying power. I’m typically seen wearing casual clothing, but when called for can sport a tuxedo. I enjoy swimming all year round, water and snow skiing, occasionally getting in a round of golf. In his fantasies section, he typed; I have more fantasies than room here permits, but I suppose my biggest fantasy is to MAKE U HAPPY!!!!

I read his words again. What struck me as most interesting is that he believes his cock is average, but then if you consider Chocolate Thunder’s massive black cock as above average and Paul’s tiny three inches as below, he might fall into the average category. I knew that if I ever got the chance to experience his beautiful cock, it would fill my pussy and throat.

I clicked on his inquiry message than instantly on reply. I typed, “J, thank you so much for contacting me. I’m a newbie here, so; please forgive me if I seem a little unsure about the swinging lifestyle. Like you, I believe we should meet in a public setting to explore each other’s thoughts and see if something more may develop. Since I’m new to the lifestyle, I can’t say that I’m ready to jump into the club scene, but I do fantasize about have multiple lovers at the same time.”

I paused for a moment, realizing that J had indicated in his message and profile that he is a divorced man. I need to be open and totally honest, so I decided to give him a little information as to why I’m on this swinging web site. I continued, “I am forty-five years old, married and have had two children, both grown now. I love my husband dearly but have never felt completely satisfied with our sex life. I’ve asked, and he has permitted me to explore ways to give me a feeling of satisfaction and happiness. Having carried, given birth, and breastfeed both my children, I have to admit that my body isn’t what I’d love for it to be, but everything still works. LOL… I have shoulder length auburn hair, light green eyes, and thin sexy lips. My breasts are a “C” cup, and my waist and hips compliment my form. I am five feet four inches tall in bare feet. Like you, I usually wear casual clothing, but I also enjoy the feel of lace silk and satin. I’ve been told, by my husband, that I have excellent oral talents and look forward to perhaps demonstrating those talents for you. I’d like to thank you for the photos you shared with me; I enjoyed them immensely. Unfortunately, I currently don’t have any I can share with you; perhaps you could help me with that. If I haven’t scared you off J, I’d appreciate it if you could reply and let me know how where and when of our first possible meeting.

Lady Di”

I proofread my message several times, making sure my words conveyed my excitement about meeting him and what he could expect once we met and decided to move to the next level. I smiled as I clicked on send. It was nearly midnight when I sent my reply, so I figured that I’d have to wait until tomorrow for J to reply if he was going to respond.

Paul was already asleep when I entered the bedroom; I was accustomed to having him sleep on his side, facing away from me. I grabbed my pajamas and went to the bathroom to change. As I removed my blouse and slacks, I watched the reflection in the mirror. In my bra and panties, I looked reasonably sexy except for the wisps of pubic hair that curled around the fringes of my panties. I’d have to take care of that tomorrow morning. Once I removed my bra and panties, my sexy look drooped a little, damn I should have bottle feed the kids, I thought as I cupped my breasts and lifted them a little. Now that I had exposed it completely, I knew that tomorrow morning, I’d need more than a fringe trim of my thick pubic hair. I slipped on my PJ top and buttoned it to the top, but decided to forgo the bottoms since I was feeling very horny.

Paul didn’t stir as I slipped into bed and pulled the covers up; as I lay there waiting for sleep to capture me, my thoughts were of J. At first, they were the words he’d typed to me and used in his profile. Still, as the minutes passed and my hands slowly moved down toward my loins, my thoughts became concentrated on the last photo he’d shared. I started by lightly fingering my clitoris as I imagined his beautiful curved cock sheathed in the thin flesh of his foreskin rising to touch his abdomen. I moved my other hand down past the first and slipped two fingers through my labia into the moist tissue of my pussy. I imagined J’s cock slowly joining my fingers as he lowered his loins toward me. I climaxed almost immediately, then brought the hand that was pleasuring my clitoris and slid it along my neck as I imagined his rock-hard throbbing cock slipping through my lips, over my tongue, and into my throat. My fingers moved faster inside my pussy, and the digits on my neck slid up and down the smooth flesh as I imagined that flesh being stretched by his beautiful cock. I feared that my whimpering would wake my sleeping husband as I brought myself to another self-induced orgasm. I withdrew my fingers from my quivering pussy and brought them to my lips to taste my orgasmic flow. I wondered if J would find the taste of my pussy appealing.

My last thought before sleep captured me: if I dreamed tonight, it would be of a new and exciting lover.

I woke up filled with anticipation and excitement about getting a reply from J. Even though I had replied to him late last night; I hoped that he’d checked his messages in the morning. Rather than letting the anticipation build, I went to my computer and logged on to SU. My inbox had two new inquiries but nothing from J. Somewhat disappointed, I left the latest messages for later and went downstairs to have some coffee.

I sat at the kitchen table, sipping my coffee, nibbling on a few oatmeal cookies, and thinking about him. J had said he’s been in the lifestyle for nearly three years, and I was confident with his handsome looks and that beautiful curved cock he been with more than a few women and that many of those members would have had bodies more voluptuous and sexier than mine. I’d have to count on my oral talents to overcome what I saw as flaws with my body. There was one small problem with that plan, his name is Paul, and his cock is the only one I’ve ever sucked. I recently started practicing with my biggest sex toy, an eight-inch rubber cock that reaches my throat but doesn’t go as deep as any of the three I’ve seen in the last two days. It is long enough to show me how to avoid gagging, which I had to assume is the biggest hurdle when you want to become a deep throat cock sucker. I giggled to myself as I thought I wonder if Amazon sells bigger dildos.

After refilling my coffee mug, I headed back upstairs. I had two new inquiries to read, and I had decided to search for women on the site to compare bodies. I settled into my desk chair and decided to check the two new inquiries I’d received. The first was from “Dark Knight,” and while he had more to offer than Chocolate Thunder, he was looking for women who could not only throat his cock; but also wanted to be as he called it “ass fucked.” I pretty much gave him a copy of my reply to Chocolate Thunder. It was clear to me that if I developed a liking for big black cock, the site could provide me with a never-ending assortment of black lovers.

The second inquiry was from “We Play Together” I opened the message and began to read; “Lady Di, we’d like to welcome you to SU and offer an invitation to attend a meet and greet at our home this coming weekend. We host monthly parties for others in the lifestyle. Newbies like yourself are often the centerpiece of our parties. Get back to us if you’re interested. WPT.”

From the words in their message, I couldn’t tell if the man or the woman was extending the invitation. I figured that being the centerpiece meant every man there would take turns playing with the newbie. If I wanted a gang bang, I could accept their invitation later in the week.

There were eight photos attached to the message. I opened the first, which showed a couple standing in front of a fireplace completely naked, which I assumed was WPT. He was somewhat paunchy bald and had a dick that didn’t impress, she was about the same height as him, but in a little better shape, I believe the term is curvy, which she had lots. I assumed the photo had been taken during one of their parties. The next picture showed him standing profile, and she was kneeling before him looking at the camera with a huge smile on her face. Where her legs met her belly, one of her curves was doubled over. The next photo was a little closer, her hand was holding his limp dick, and she had extended her tongue toward the tip. I kind of knew what the other five photos would show. His cock resting on her tongue a little harder, his cock inside her mouth with her lips closed around the shaft, his cock now completely erect resting on her face next to her nose, his cock held tightly in his fist aimed at her mouth and extended tongue her eyes wide open. The final photo was a close up of her face, thick strands of white cum covered her completely; one stretched up on her forehead and into her dark hair, puddles of cum rested in each eye, and her lips tongue and chin were coated with smeared cum. The words “I love facials, do you?” had been added to the photo at the bottom.

I sat back in my chair and stared at the photo; it was highly erotic, and I asked myself the question, “Do I?” I’d never had a facial like this one, occasionally when I sucked Paul off, a little of his jizz would escape my mouth and dribble down my chin, but to have a man empty his balls all over my face was something that I’d never experienced. It had to feel completely awesome the thick cum shooting from a cock; its searing heat scalding your flesh as it splatters onto your face. I wondered if I could keep my eyes open as a man shot a wad of cum to form the kind of puddles in WPT’s final photo. I suppose I could add that to my list of fantasies because I was sure as hell wanted to experience getting my first massive cum facial. I saved all eight pictures to a subfolder WPT in my SU file.

The female half of WPT was probably my age or just a tad younger, and I decided to take a look at some other female members. I set my search parameters to an age range of 40 to 60, single female or couples, with pictures, and a distance of 500 miles.

A couple of hundred pages came up in my search. I started clicking on profiles but didn’t bother to read any; after all, I was interested in the photos, not their fantasies. Most were average in looks, some were photographed in lingerie some in street clothes, many were overweight, and a lot showed off their cleavage. I looked at the private albums where some had posted photos of them performing all kinds of sexual acts. I was viewing the sixth page of profiles when the tiny icon “new message” popped up on my screen.

I instantly clicked on the icon to open my message box. A huge smile came to my lips when I saw the message was from J. I clicked on the message apprehensively and moved my hand off the mouse. J had typed in the subject line “Thank you” In the body, he wrote; “Lady Di; Thank you for replying to my inquiry when I saw your message in my inbox it brought a smile to my lips. That smile continued as I read your words, but changed to a frown as you described yourself. I can see that when we meet, I’ll have to work on your self-esteem. I won’t be long-winded here, but I hope you can call me so we can plan our first meeting. My cell number is 484-635-2214. I look forward to hearing your sexy voice for the first time, Jerry.”

I read his message several times; with the few words he’d typed Jerry had me, I knew he would be my first; the man who would introduce me to an exciting lifestyle, the man I’d remember forever as my first extramarital affair. I knew that Jerry was sitting at his computer as I read his message, and before I got cold feet, I picked up my cell phone and dialed his number.

I couldn’t wait to hear his voice, and on the fourth ring, my wait ended as he connected us for the first time.

“Hello.” He said.

I replied tentatively, “Is this, Jerry.”

“Yes, is this Lady Di?” He asked.

“It’s Dianna,” I answered.

“What a beautiful name,” Jerry replied.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I’m so glad the Di isn’t short for Diane, Dianna is sexier, and it rolls off my tongue very well,” Jerry said.

Wow, Paul was right within the first fifteen seconds of our call Jerry had already shown what a smooth talker he is, and I loved it.

“Is this a good time to talk?” I asked.

“Absolutely, I don’t have to be at work until 1:00,” He said.

“Oh, so if we meet, it would be in the morning?” I asked.

“You should have said when we meet, and no, I go back to regular hours starting tomorrow,” He answered, relieving my fears that I’d have to get up with Paul to prepare to meet him.

“What kind of work do you do?” I asked.

“I’m a producer for a local television station, for the last two weeks I’ve been filling in for the guy who produces the evening news while he’s on vacation.” He explained.

“Producing a television show must be exciting work,” I mentioned.

“Some time it can be rather mundane,” Jerry offered wanting to talk about us instead of his work.

I decided to cut to the chase and asked, “So when do you think we should meet?”

“I was thinking tomorrow evening,” He answered.

“I’d like that,” I replied.

“Do you know the Irish pub O’Neil’s on Main Street,” Jerry asked.