I started on my journey to happiness a few years ago when I turned 49 and realized that my life was probably more than half over. My husband and I had become empty nesters after our son and daughter went off and graduated from college and found jobs so they finally moved out of the house. My husband made a six figure salary, so I did not need to work, though I did spend a few days a week down at the shelter cooking meals.
One day, one of those reality TV talk shows did one about women with an obsession, the desire to find men that were very, very endowed. At first, I giggled at the remarks and explanations that I heard from the women. How could they cheat on their husbands or boyfriends to get someone like that? Anyway, I enjoyed the show and went off to do the laundry or something.
I guess it hit me while I was out shopping later that week, when every man I came across I was looking discretely for evidence at what they were packing. I had done this for a least a dozen men before I realized self-consciously what I had been doing. Yes, several of the women on the show had described their hunts for the perfect cock, and even mentioned going to the grocery store or the Wal-Mart cruising the aisle. Was I becoming such a woman?
For the next week, these thoughts kept creeping into my head. Really. Now I had had my fun while a college coed and the five years after graduation living the single life in Boston. I had slept with about two dozen men over the period, having the normal range of experiences of a young woman growing up in the 1980s.
I met my future husband when his team came in to do a management audit to the firm I worked with, and after about a month, he asked me out for a drink. We dated on and off for about three months, in-between his visits to Boston. One romantic night, after making love for about two hours, we both realized that we were serious with each other. Since his job was on the road and he could live anywhere, he and I agreed to find a larger apartment in Boston and we moved in together. A year later, we got married, and I became pregnant that winter. In three years, we had two kids and I decided to stop working.
We have had a very good love life, when hubby is in town we have sex about three to four times during the work week and four or five times each weekend. We enjoy a normal fantasy life, occasional soft porn videos and dressing up in some role playing, but nothing really kinky. He is five inches long and 2 ½ inches wide, and he really knows how to rub against my clit or drive against my g-spot.
We have never talked about having sex with others, though both of us have voyeur tendencies that we hype at each other when watching a cable movie. Porn is sometimes OK, for the few things you find with some kind of plot.
I figure hubby has probably cheated a few times over our 24 years of marriage, he certainly would have had some opportunities to do so with the business travel that he does. No evidence of any of that, he certainly is careful and discrete if he does. I would be tolerating if I were to find out, since I hate to be a hypocrite.
See, I have never been with another man since I got married. But I have been with a handful of women over the year, and for the last five years have gotten with my best friend almost every Sunday afternoon. Meg does not have the greatest sex life with her husband, probably about average, and her husband has had some problems getting it up due to the heart medications he is taking. So Meg and I get together and climax about a dozen times during our two hour sessions, while her husband or mine is out playing golf or going to see the Red Sox, Bruins or Celtics play.
I told Meg about the talk show, and she giggled so much that it was really hard to get her into the move to make love to her. Her husband was a bit larger than average, just a tad under seven inches, but about half the width of my husband. We both knew it was more about the width and the motion, rather than length. Meg asked me what the largest cock I had ever had, and thinking back to junior year, I recall one that was probably close to eight inches. Meg kept asking questions, and finally I admitted that it did give me a full feeling that night. Meg said that her hubby was the largest, unfortunately, and she spent college with mostly the 3 to 4 inch crowd. We kept laughing and did not cum that much on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
So the next week, every day I found myself thinking about big cocks quite often. Hubby was off to Seattle that week, and that did not help anything. So one evening, I went on our home computer and began surfing. I was familiar with Literotica stories, so I searched the stories for wives who lusted for big cocks. Several of them turned me on, and sitting on a towel, I pulled off my shorts and panties and fingered myself while I read.
