My Coming Out - My Story

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A Southern girl and her hubby in a memorable evening.
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Hi, my name is Lisa (yes, it's my real name) and I'm a school teacher living in the Atlanta, Georgia metropolitan area. As to whether I'm a "Southern Belle" or even a "Georgia Peach", I suppose you'd have to make that judgment. All that I'd say for now is that I've always considered myself to be a very typical southern girl. And yes, both my husband and I follow NASCAR and I still have "big hair"!

A little of my background; I'm from a small town in middle Georgia. I was brought up in an extremely strict (you guessed it) Baptist environment. I was not allowed to even date until I was 17 and both of my parents watched over me like a pair of hawks. The only time I was ever away from home was during summer church camp where, even there, my parents saw to it that my contacts, especially with guys, were closely monitored.

Thankfully, after graduation from high school, I was able to get away to the college campus (University of Georgia, thank you very much!) and finally start living my life. Although I didn't go wild (at least I don't think I did) my social life finally received a kick-start. I lost my virginity halfway through my freshman year and I think I can be described as being pretty sexually active for the next four years. I can honestly say that I never pulled any one night stands but, at the same time, if I dated a guy more than two times he could be pretty well assured that we would end up in bed.

Midway through my senior year at UGA I met my husband-to-be, Gary. I fell in love with him almost immediately and after we graduated we were married in a huge Baptist Church ceremony. We have since settled down into what I consider to be a typical middleclass life with the same interests as other people our age (late 20s-early 30s). Our lives have, for the most part, centered around our careers and our Church (don't laugh; I'm a Sunday School teacher at one of the largest Baptist Churches in the entire Atlanta area!)

But now, my story really begins. I've been happily married to this great guy for over nine years and have been very satisfied with our marriage. He's in great shape, well-endowed (a rock solid seven inches), and a fantastic lover. However, for the last few months, I had hoped for something different in our bedroom routine. Don't get me wrong; as I said, Gary's a great lover. It's just that Gary has always been extremely mindful of my orgasm; always holding back and delaying until I was completely satisfied. This was all well and good but, at times, I wanted him to simply throw me down on the bed, pull my panties down and take what he wanted; the way he used to do when we were dating. The problem was (and this may have had to do with my Baptist upbringing) I just couldn't tell him that in so many words.

And so, I stupidly kept my mouth shut. To this day, I don't know why I did. I've always been extremely honest with my husband. Even before we became engaged, I was upfront with Gary and told him that he (Gary) was exactly the 17th guy that had been between my legs and that if he had wanted a virgin then I was the wrong girl. I had never lied to my husband and never would. Still, I couldn't (or wouldn't) tell him what I wanted.

For the past few months, Gary had been bringing home some porno tapes and I eagerly joined him in viewing them. To tell you the truth, good porno (if it's not too gross) really turns me on. And, it was not too unusual for us to head for the bedroom (if we made it that far) after watching some especially good stuff. On this particular Friday night, we had watched a really great porn movie (featuring several two guys/one girl scenes) and we hit the bedroom for some really great sex.

After we had finished, I was snuggling up next to my husband when he asked, "How did you like the movie tonight?"

"I loved it." was my reply.

My husband didn't say anything for a few seconds but finally turned to me and said, "You know, I've really been fantasizing about something like that."

"Like what?" came my response.

"Oh, you know, watching while another guy screwed you."

I sat up in bed as if my pillow was on fire, "YOU WHAT?"

My sweet husband was thoroughly taken aback by my response, "Oh....Well...You know...It was just a fantasy...I didn't really mean anything by it."

I looked over at him in the darkness and laid my head back down. "Geez," I thought, "Where did THAT come from?" But that was not all I was thinking. I was also thinking about how I could find out if he was really serious.

Needless to say, the mood in the bedroom had become a bit tense (OK, REAL tense!) After a couple of minutes, I sat up again, "Gary, uh, just how would something like this happen; I mean, did you actually have someone in mind that you fantasized screwing me?" Now, it was Gary's turn to sit up in bed since he could now see that I had not slammed the door shut on his fantasy and that I might possibly be interested.

"No." was Gary's reply. "You know that we could never do something like this with anyone that we know. It would have to be with a total stranger; someone that we don't know and who doesn't know us."

"So, how would we ever meet someone like this?" I asked.

"I'll show you tomorrow." was all that he would say. We both lay back down. I don't know about Gary but it took me more than a few minutes to get to sleep.

The next morning, Gary and I went into the room where we kept our computer. With only a few keystrokes (obviously, he had been there before) he brought up the website that he wanted me to look at. It was clearly a "Swingers" website; one in which all kinds of individuals were advertising to meet other people. Gary made a few changes to the search criteria and narrowed down the selections to single guys in their 30s looking to meet women and other couples in the state of Georgia. It didn't take long to complete the search. There were several guys who fit the search criteria and Gary motioned me to take over the keyboard and look at the "candidates". I gave him my most exasperated look and did as he asked.

I won't lie. This was completely new territory to me. The search that Gary had done had pulled up nearly 200 guys. I began looking at the "profiles" of the guys on the first page. No doubt about it, this was a virtual smorgasbord of men. Although all of them had posted their pictures with their profiles some of them were too blurred to look at any further. And, while most of them had at least one facial shot, there were many that included pictures of their full bodies, their NUDE bodies! Many of them had full erections.

I suddenly noticed that Gary was looking intently at me while I was looking at the photos. I had pretty much figured out what I was going to say and now was the time to say it.

"Look, I don't know if I want to do this but I want to get something straight. If I do decide to pick someone out of here, it will be the guy that I decide on. And, if we decide to meet someone, it will be ME who decides whether or not the guy screws me."

You could see the relief in Gary's eyes. At least now, I had given him the chance to realize his fantasy.

But I didn't tell Gary the entire truth. That truth was that I was starting to get excited about the prospect of going to bed with another guy and that I was every bit as excited about the prospect of Gary watching me. I told Gary that I needed some time to look at the pictures and to come back in an hour. He readily agreed.

I turned my attention back to the men on the web site. To tell you the truth, the majority of them struck me as somewhat gross. Many were overweight and I got the feeling that several of them had lied about their ages. I did see a number of guys who looked promising but, when I would dig further into their profiles, I would generally find something that would put me off about them.

I was about 75% finished with the profiles of the men that Gary had selected when I clicked on a profile entitled "Love Married Women". When the photo came up, I wasn't very impressed. He was definitely not your "pretty boy" type. He had a crooked smile, a somewhat ominous drooping mustache, and looked to be somewhat on the skinny side. (I like my men to have some meat on their bones) I moved the computer mouse to click on the next guy when the words caught my eye: "Absolutely love married women, very well endowed, and can cum four times in a night."

"HUH?" I thought to myself, "What kind of an ad is THAT?"

I stared at the picture a few seconds longer. He had only his facial picture in the ad; no pictures of his body or anything else. I took a closer look at his "likes" and "dislikes" in his profile. There was little there that gave me a better clue as to what he would be like. I sat there for a few minutes; I really didn't know what to do.

At that point, Gary came back into the room and casually asked, "How's it going?"

I motioned to the picture on the monitor and replied, "What about this one?" Gary sat next to me and silently read the same information that I had spent so much time on.

Finally, Gary spoke up, "Sounds OK to me. Do you want to contact him?" The ball was now firmly in my court. It was totally up to me whether this was going to go any further.

I hesitated but the words stumbled out, "Yeah, I mean, what would be the harm?"

Gary took another look at the ad, "Are you OK with this part?" I looked at the ad more closely. At the end of it were the words, "No picture, No reply". The guy clearly expected a photo of me.

I drew the line here. I was not about to send a photo of myself, ANY kind of photo, to a website where it could be further published to the world. I reminded Gary (as if he needed reminding) that if something, like what we were thinking about were to get out, we would have to leave town and that we could both lose our jobs (Gary is a high school coach). Gary agreed but said that we could still reply to that guy's ad, explain our situation, and see what he said. I agreed to this.

So, Gary sent our reply to the guy through the website's mail system. Less than two hours later, the guy's response came back. He understood our situation but still wanted to see a picture of me, preferably nude, but that I didn't have to show my face. In addition, he said that we could send him a print of the picture at his residence and that way we could be reasonably assured that it could not go out on the Net.

I thought about it, weighed the possible risks, and decided that I could go through with it. Gary promptly got his camera and we went to the bedroom where I completely disrobed. Again, I didn't tell Gary the entire truth. Although Gary had taken many, many pictures of me in the buff, I was getting really excited about the prospect of a total stranger looking at my naked body. Gary took about five pictures of me, full frontal nudes, with my face either concealed or looking away from the camera. After looking at all of them, we decided on the one that showed the least of my face and printed it.

"Are you sure about this?" Gary asked. I nodded; I was sure. Gary slipped the picture into a brown envelope, addressed it, and took it to the Post Office.

During the next week we heard nothing from the guy, either from the website or the mail. Although I thought about it from time to time, I certainly didn't dwell on it; I had other things to think about. On Saturday morning, my husband had a school sports event to attend so I went to the health club for my normal workout. I returned to our house around noon and saw that the mail had arrived. There was a fairly sizable amount of it; mostly junk mail, so I flipped it onto the kitchen counter and went to take a shower. Returning to the kitchen I began going through the mail and came across a somewhat thick envelope addressed by hand.

Uh-Oh, I thought to myself. What do we have here? The return address merely had "Mike" on it with a post office box number and zip code. I held the envelope in my hand for a few seconds wondering what to do. Should I open it? Wait on Gary to get home? Finally I thought, what the heck; I'm part of this too. I carefully tore open the envelope and yet another envelope fell out; tightly sealed and taped shut, just like the outer envelope. I tore it open, took out the contents and then tried to put my eyes back in their sockets over what I saw.

The guy who I had seen in the web site had sent us pictures of himself (with his telephone number). But let me tell you, these were no ordinary pictures. In the first picture, he was seated in an oversized living room chair STARK NAKED holding his fully erect cock in his right hand (I could not see his left hand; he was probably using it to take the picture). My jaw dropped so low, it almost hit my chest. He was looking away from the camera at something laid across the arm of the chair. I squinted and looked closer at the object of his attention. OH...MY...GOD, IT WAS MY PICTURE! THE GUY WAS OBVIOUSLY MASTURBATING TO MY PICTURE!!!

I was totally stunned. Numbly, I looked at the second picture. It was in the same setting except that now his right hand had moved down to the base of his cock and there appeared to be a grimace forming on his face. I squinted again and saw that it appeared that something white was forming at the end of his cock. WAS HE BEGINNING TO ...? OH...GOOD...LORD!

I flipped to the 3d and final picture. My worst fears were realized. The guy had reached his orgasm (still looking at MY photo). The semen was dripping not only out of the end of his cock but down the shaft, over his fingers, down to his balls and finally down to a towel that he had thoughtfully placed under him.

I dropped the pictures down on the counter as if they were on fire. Instantly, in what I can only say was a reaction brought about by my Baptist upbringing, I became furious!

HOW DARE MY HUSBAND SEND A PHOTO OF ME NAKED TO A PERVERT LIKE THIS? AND, HOW DARE THIS PERVERT MASTURBATE TO MY PHOTO?

Suddenly, my common sense and logic returned and I regained my perspective on the whole situation. It was me who had given my husband permission to take the photo and to send the photo to "Mike". And, more importantly, it was me who had become excited at the prospect of a total stranger looking at my naked body. Then, another thought struck me. Wait a minute; here was this guy, obviously excited (obviously!) over a photo not over a naked Playmate or movie star, but, instead over MY photo!

This put the entire situation in a new light. I picked up the photos from the counter, took them over to the table and spread them out in front of me. I studied the first picture. No doubt about it; this guy wasn't just big, he was really, REALLY big. OK, I may as well make an admission before I go any further and that admission is that I have ALWAYS been fascinated with guys' cocks. During my dating days in college, I always preferred to make love with the lights on or during daylight because I really got turned on when I saw a guy getting excited and how it affected his member.

I thought about other guys that I had been to bed with. As I said, I've been with enough guys to know the differences in cock size and while it has never been a huge issue with me I'd be a liar if I said it was totally unimportant. As I said, Gary is a full seven inches (yes, I've measured him) and though I had been to bed with two guys who had been a bit bigger (maybe an inch or so) Gary was still a far superior lover and more than enough for me. Still, the cock in the photo fascinated me. From the angle of the photo I could see that the head of the cock extended well above his navel. I estimated that he was a full two or three inches longer than Gary. As for the circumference, there was simply no contest between this guy and Gary; his cock was much thicker. I also thought about some of the guys that I had seen in the porno movies. This guy didn't have any apologies to make; he was as big as any of the porn "stars".

I moved my attention to the second picture. The guy's hand was now at the base of his cock which emphasized its length even more. In addition, the position of his hand had the effect of pushing his balls more into view. They were a perfect match for his cock; big and totally impressive.

However, it was the last picture that really caused me to sit up and take notice. In searching for a word (or words) to describe the amount of semen that came out this guy, the best that I can come up with is "totally prodigious"! It looked like someone had poured a pitcher of cream (thick cream, at that) on the head of the cock. As I said, it extended from the head, down the long thick shaft, across his fingers, down to his balls. I simply shook my head in disbelief; I couldn't believe that much fluid could come out of one man. As I said, I'm fairly knowledgeable about the subject; of all the 17 guys that I've been to bed with, I've sucked off and given hand jobs to all of them. I know that some guys naturally cum more than others and that when they haven't had sex for awhile, they generally put out much more semen and, from my experience is generally thicker. I have always noticed that when I have my period and that when Gary is "cut off", his first output is thicker and more prolific.

But, this was totally mind-blowing. I truly believe that Gary (and about all the guys that I had gotten off) would have had to come four or five times to even match the amount that this guy had put out. I sat back and folded my arms. No doubt about it; all men were certainly NOT created equal!

I now had a decision to make. WHAT HAPPENS NOW? I thought about it for awhile. It would have been relatively easy for me to throw the pictures away; my husband would have never been the wiser. But I had never lied to my husband and I wasn't going to start now. Besides, I was beginning to admit to myself; I was beginning to want this to happen as much as my husband did. I took the photos and put them back in their envelopes and put the envelope back in the middle of the stack of mail.

My husband returned about two hours later from the sporting event. As was his habit, he walked over to the fridge and retrieved a can of beer. "Any mail?" he asked.

In my best, disinterested, casual voice, I replied, "Over on the counter." I hesitated a bit and then added in the same tone of voice, "By the way, that guy you sent my photo to sent us some pictures." I went over to the sink and pretended to be cleaning some produce but I was looking at my husband out of the corner of my eye as he flipped through the mail.

When he reached the brown envelope containing the pictures, I looked away and listened for his response. He looked at all three pictures; the kitchen became suddenly quiet. I heard him softly say, "Damn." He looked up at me, "I guess the guy wasn't lying about being endowed, was he?"

I looked back at him, trying to keep the disinterested look on my face and replied, "I suppose not." Gary looked back at the photos for a few seconds and asked, "Well, what do you want to do?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Well, I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to talk to him on the phone." I was hoping that Gary wouldn't see how interested I really was. Gary picked the receiver up from the wall unit; dialed the number and motioned for me to pick up the mobile phone. Maybe it was just my imagination, but my heart started to pound. After a couple of rings, the phone was answered. I was very happily surprised. The guy (Mike) turned out to have a very deep, pleasant voice. It may sound stupid but it just didn't match the face in the picture. Gary introduced Mike to me and for the next few minutes we just went back and forth learning more about each other.

Mike was a construction worker, here in Atlanta for a few months working on a large project south of Atlanta. His regular home was in Texas (I thought I had recognized some sort of cowboy twang!) He was very easy to talk to; not loud, boisterous or pushy. In other words, he seemed like a very nice person; one that I would not be uncomfortable around.