Rural Encounter

I tried to turn the conversation by asking a mundane question about home but my wife refused to be distracted, rushing on to say, "I had a couple of big cocks up me before I met you but they weren't within three inches of John's monster and neither had that kind of effect on me."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted, "I thought I was your first."

Anne burst into laughter. "Wherever did you get that idea?"

"When I confessed my past, you didn't say anything about yours. You said you were saving yourself and it was over three months before we first did it, so naturally I assumed," I said lamely.

"Darling, all girls do it. You let fun guys into your pants quickly but I only ever did it once on a first night and generally waited until the third date before opening my legs. The more steady guys, the potential husband material, have to wait a month to six weeks to check dedication. I knew very quickly that you were the one for me so I made you wait twice as long."

"How many were there?" I asked with a tremor in my voice.

"My love, don't get upset. It wasn't many more than twelve and that's only twice as many as you. It's much easier for females to get laid. I do know that the girls I hung around with put out a hell of a lot more than I did."

I think I must have always had a big H imprinted on my forehead because all girls (except that one and Anne) made me wait for so long that I gave up. I came to the conclusion that all the talk of 'easy girls' was nothing but guys exaggerating for ego purposes. Only now was I realising quite how naïve I had been.

In a strange way, the discovery that Anne had been screwed by many men before we met made it easier to accept her having been fucked by John. I had believed that she was exclusively mine and it was the loss of that exclusivity that I regretted most about her seduction. With that element removed I could see that it was just sex with no impact on the love we shared and, I had to admit that that while watching them copulating, I had never felt so alive in my life. All that I wanted to do was get home and into bed at the first opportunity to ease the painful ache in my balls.

At home I had the afternoon and evening to get through with my frequent suggestions that we should have an early night being consistently resisted. In bed eventually I was understandably eager to finally have my turn but Anne quickly stated that her pussy was out of bounds, explaining that she was not only terribly sore but badly bruised inside. I couldn't hide my disappointment so she said "You can have a little lick if you want". Now I wasn't going to turn down the offer even though this seemed to be 'back in the old routine' but the way she winced from just the touch of my tongue showed that her claimed tenderness was not an exaggeration.

For the first week, at night I spent the time waiting for sleep reliving the hours spent at the farm but after that it became only an occasional torment and my wife eventually stopped reminding me of how much she had enjoyed herself. Real life reasserted itself; we ate out, visited friends, carried on with hobbies and did the myriad everyday things that comprise the fabric of existence. The only change was Anne suggesting that as neither of us were preoccupied with having children we could afford to delay for a year or two more. I was happy to agree.

Despite the pretence of a return to normal, on the internet I developed a compulsion to surf the porn sites in search of extra large cocks. Eventually I found what I was looking for. It was a twenty minute clip of a black guy with a voluptuous Latina girl. His endowment was very close to that of the farmer and I watched the video over and over again. My PC room was upstairs so I watched after dark because when Anne put the light on for the stairs I had adequate warning to safely switch screens. One night when the clip was half way through, Anne's voice at my shoulder said," Now that is another very gorgeous cock."

With a reflex twitch I killed the screen but my wife insisted firmly that I put it back saying, "I want to see it from the start."

I did as told and we sat side by side watching with me feeling both self conscious and embarrassed. "Do you imagine that I am that girl?" she asked and the suddenness of the question caught me unprepared to lie. Anne's hand sought out my stiff cock through my pants. "Do you wish he was here fucking me?"

"Yes," I admitted and I know she felt my penis twitch.

"Would you like it if he was here now and that beautiful black cock was inside me and not her? Again I didn't need to speak for Anne to know my answer. "And would you like to lick his cum out of my cunt just like you did with John's?" I couldn't answer but even had my penis stayed flaccid my heightened breathing would have given me away.

With a small laugh, Anne eased down my zip, slid her hand inside and we spent several minutes silently watching the video with her massaging and squeezing my dick. Then she asked, "And how would you like us to go down to the farm next weekend to see John -- his wife should be away again." I'm not sure if it was spontaneous or due to my wife's manual urging but I ejaculated suddenly and with some force. "That's settled then," she said smugly.

A minute or two later my overheated brain cooled sufficiently to allow sensible thoughts in and I asked, "Are back on the pill?"

"No but it doesn't matter," she said. "I never took the 'morning after' pill last time and I didn't get pregnant so that proves I was safe. I'm at exactly the same point in my cycle so I'm bound to be OK again."

Postscript.

This memory didn't resurface until some weeks after the above.

When we were on our honeymoon, walking along the seafront, Anne suddenly said, "Let's get our fortunes told so we know what the future will bring."

Now I have always been a total sceptic but I was pleased to go along just to keep my new wife happy, however I did insist that we had our readings at least an hour apart so that the woman couldn't easily connect us.

Excitedly pointing to a stand in the distance, Anne said we should go there as she had heard that that particular palmist was very, very good. I remained where I was and watched my wife walk away to disappear behind the door flap, only to return twenty minutes later with her face wreathed in smiles.

"We're going to have a very long and happy marriage," she told me happily. Other information the woman had given was surprisingly accurate but nothing that couldn't be explained by acute observation and finely tuned intuition. "I asked about children," Anne went on, "But she said that wasn't clear. The only certain thing is that my first child is going to be a son."

Later in the afternoon I went for my turn. Right from the start the old crone seemed to hit the nail on the head to a statistically significant degree and I was beginning to waver until she announced, "You will only father one child and it will be a girl."

I returned to Anne laughing and shaking my head. "It's all total mumbo jumbo," I declared, "- She can't even get our kids sex the same." With that I pushed the experience from my mind.