My Husband's Suggestion

The third person I had sex with was my husband so you certainly wouldn't have called me promiscuous in my younger years. I actually lost my virginity aged eighteen during a drunken student party and I was not at all impressed with the whole sex thing. The second man came along two years later. He was my first long-term love -- well, a few months anyway before it fizzled out. Then came Steve. We dated for a long time, got engaged, and eventually married.

I didn't know and didn't really care if our sex life was good or not, it was good enough for me. We weren't particularly adventurous, but we did have sex. Okay, it was mostly lights off, no words spoken sex, but sex nonetheless. Oh, and I'd orgasm more often than not. In a nutshell, it was okay.

So, in the late 1990s, we celebrated ten years of marriage and my thirty-second birthday with a foreign holiday. On our return and driving back from the airport, we both needed a pee and stopped at a motorway service station. It was then, as I left the toilets, that I encountered the man who would become my lover. I don't know how it happened, but we collided, laughed as we reached to steady each other, and then apologised at the same moment. I should have turned away after that, but his look of shameless desire lifted me in a way I really needed.

Moments later, I was standing behind that same stranger in the queue for coffee and I was overwhelmed by his presence. So much so that I imagined him caressing my body, making love to me, filling me. I'd never thought about being loved by another man and the intensity of this daydream had me reeling. The confusion I felt truly knocked me for six.

I had sometimes speculated -- from an artistic viewpoint -- what this or that hunk of a man would look like naked. But I never considered sex; it just wasn't important to me then, not really important at all. Steve worked away a lot of the time and I really didn't bother about sex at all. When he returned home, it was a quick grope and he would cum inside me and that would be it. To be quite honest, it suited me.

Looking back, we couldn't possibly know that this was the day that forever changed my outlook on sex. In fact, changed both our outlooks as it turned out.

Steve guided us to a table next to that stranger and, as we drank our coffee, he started talking in a dramatic whisper about the man, revealing what he'd seen in the toilet. I was already guilt-ridden at my feelings in the queue and I just wanted Steve to change the subject. The animated way he spoke and his expression hinted at what he wanted me to do. I was frightened and began to panic. I'd always known that my husband truly loves me so I put my irrational terror down to my wicked thoughts -- and that realisation helped to change my mood and my panic subsided.

But I couldn't understand why Steve should be so interested in talking about the size of another man's penis! What had brought that on?

I glanced at the stranger. The speculations I'd had about naked men had been few and far between but this man was good-looking, tall and slender but well-muscled, and clearly looked after himself. He was well-dressed and obviously confident. He actually looked like one of those movie stars I found attractive. I realised that while I was studying him he was looking at me and smiling. He winked and I flushed with embarrassment.

This made me angry with myself and I became more and more upset with Steve. I wished he'd just drop the subject and so teased him with a little reverse psychology, telling him about the effect this man had had on me. I hoped that would shock him into dropping the subject.

It backfired.

Steve told me exactly how excited he was and what he wanted to happen -- how much he wanted me to have sex with this man. What? Absolutely not. I'd never contemplated infidelity.

Then Steve asked me, "Would you... really?"

It was more of an appeal but the excitement in his voice and the words burned through my mind. I was shocked, stunned. For some reason, my husband wanted me to be unfaithful, to have sex with another man. And not just any man but this allegedly exceptionally well-endowed stranger.

My immediate response was one of disgust followed by guilt for my earlier thoughts. I went with my heart and firmly said, "No."

I was livid when Steve's expression immediately changed from flushed excitement and anticipation to total rejection. Yet, I remembered the desire in the stranger's eyes and that flood of lust that he'd created in me. Yes, I began to feel quite naughty and I glanced again at the stranger. The words, "Would you... really," echoed in my mind. Would I? No... definitely not, how could I even think such a thing? But, he really was very good looking and he was still watching me with those lustful eyes.

I turned back to Steve and saw the disappointment on his face. He really wanted me to have sex with this man. Again, I thought, no... definitely not. But, to my utter amazement, I realised that I'd said, "Okay."

It had taken almost no time at all to switch from my venomous "no" to my soft "okay." The cafe seemed to have gone quiet and I sat a few moments in stunned silence not believing what I'd said. What sort of woman am I? What sort of woman could agree to a proposition like that? I was upset with myself and with Steve for asking me. Most of all I was astounded that I could agree. What sort of person considers having sex with a stranger? That very thought raised an illicit excitement in me and, as I told Steve to ask the stranger to join us, the man got up and walked away.

Relieved, I decided that I'd have strong words with Steve when we got home. But, being brutally honest, I was somewhat disappointed at the missed opportunity.

However, a few minutes later we saw him in the car park. What should I do? I hated myself for agreeing to a betrayal of everything I held dear, including our marriage vows. But, to please Steve, I'd agreed and he seemed so eager that I just couldn't disappoint him. So, for the second time, I asked him to approach the stranger.

I don't know to this day what was said between them but after quite some time they smiled and nodded at me -- then he turned to walk away and the bottom fell out of my world. How strange that I should feel such disappointment, rejected by someone I didn't know. But this stranger had sparked wicked feelings that angered me and made me feel terrible inside and yet so very different, so very excited. I honestly don't know what then came over me. With butterflies fluttering in my stomach and a little flood of moist warmth, I caught up with the stranger and quivered inside as I kissed him on the cheek.

Taking a step back, I blushed slightly as I introduced myself. Again that powerful feeling washed over me, that feeling of him making love to me. I'd acted with the knowledge of what Steve had told me but I was trembling with fear and desire at the thought of this man's body against mine -- of his cock, his large cock, within me.

I then found myself walking away from my husband hand-in-hand with a complete stranger. I felt so very cheap and I was scared stiff. My heart was thumping, my stomach churned, and I was very unsteady in high heel boots. My mind reeled with horrible names -- slut, whore, slag -- but I was tremendously excited.

A Travelodge hotel adjoined the services area and I was numb and embarrassed when Steve apparently settled down to wait in the reception while I departed with a stranger.

On the way to the room, it began to sink in just how much Steve had emphasised the size of this stranger's penis, his flaccid penis. Steve grows about one and a half, perhaps two inches, to almost five inches erect. How big would five or six flaccid inches grow? Bigger limp than Steve's erection, he'd be huge when aroused. What if he's too big? Abject terror began to course through me and by the time we reached the room I was feeling physically sick and on the verge of running.

Then, in seconds, we were standing in the room facing each other, I was unsure what to do but he grasped one of my hands and said, "You're apprehensive. It's not too late and I'll understand if you leave."

I was very confused, guilty as hell and full of apprehension, and I wanted to flee. But... well, I really couldn't disappoint Steve and I had amazing sensations in my stomach and pussy.

He stared deeply into my eyes as though trying to read my mind. If he could've done that, he'd have seen abject terror. I'm happy standing before a group of hard-nosed businessmen and pitching a proposal worth thousands of pounds, but this whole situation was beyond my experience.

I was alarmed at the sensations this stranger had roused in me. I was terrified of actually enjoying his apparently huge cock and I was petrified of not enjoying it. I was afraid that he'd be too big and hurt or damage me. I was scared that I might be too inexperienced and embarrass both of us. I was terrified of the damage sex with another man could do to my life. Yes, more than anything I was horror-struck at the thought of losing Steve, wrecking our marriage. It wasn't right; I needed to get out of there.

I was framing what to say, how to apologise and excuse myself when he took hold of my other hand and looked deeply into my eyes. His face was so close to mine, I could feel his breath and smell his masculinity.

I trembled with fear and my legs were like jelly. His warm, erotic aroma wafted across me and my panties became damp from another release of moist warmth. I was terrified that he was going to kiss or fondle me, make a grab for me in some intimate place. Instead, he spoke and I'll always remember his words.

"You really are a very beautiful and seriously desirable woman and I think your husband is totally off his head. You think you're being unfaithful to him, yet--"

He paused for a second or two, studying my face.

"I'll be perfectly honest and perhaps a little cruder than I should: you're as hot as they come. I'm hard as hell just looking at you and I really want to fuck you right now. I want to lick your clit and push my tongue into your pussy and taste your juice. I want to feel your slick warmth on my cock. I want you to beg me, scream for me to fuck you, and I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop. I'll fill you with so much cum that you'll gurgle when you scream for me to stop. I want to fuck you so badly."

He took a deep breath, gazing into my eyes, then continued, "I've thought of little else since we bumped into each other so I'll be disappointed if you back out. You know that your husband wants this to happen. He must be crazy but he wants me to fuck you. He wants you to feel me inside you -- so that's not cheating on him, is it? Also, you probably think you're here to please him but, deep down, I think you want me to fuck you, to please you. What do you say?"

I'd never had anyone talk to me in such base terms and I was mortified that the dirty and explicit talk excited me as much as it did. What did I want? I wanted him to make love to me -- but it wasn't right: I'm a married woman. Knowing Steve wanted it only made matters worse. Yes, I was totally confused and my last chance to escape this awful, erotic situation was slipping away fast. He was holding my hands, looking deep into my eyes, and his eyes sparkled with lust when he said, "I need you now."

I don't know if that vulgar, seductive speech or the vitality of his "I need you now" finally tipped the balance.

Whatever, he pulled me to him and gently stroked my shoulder. I shivered as he brought his lips to mine while easing the straps off my shoulders, slipping my dress down and, in one fluent movement, unclipping my bra. My breasts fell free and this total stranger cupped a breast in one hand and found the small of my back with the other, pulling me against his firm body. It was then that I felt his thick, hard manhood against my stomach. God, he was big!

We kissed passionately, exploring each other's warm sensuous mouth, tongues flicking, touching, and caressing. He slid his hand down my back to my buttocks and then pressed his bulge against me before easing his hand between us. He stroked my pussy mound through my panties and I clung tightly to him.

So, there I was in a hotel room being kissed in the most deeply passionate way by a total stranger with the certain knowledge that we'd soon be making love. To my shame, I was eager. I felt so guilty, so base, so dirty, so shocked, so naughty, so utterly immoral -- and so very, very excited as the stranger took a nipple between his lips.

He teased with lips and tongue until I felt my buds harden. With a finger and thumb he pinched and caressed my other nipple before dropping to his knees and gently kissing my stomach while easing my panties down. I trembled when he blew gently onto my fine pubic hair and circled a long slow breath round and round. I felt an urge -- no, the need -- to spread my legs, to open up the way to my most intimate parts.

I stepped out of my panties, and he instantly spread my thighs wide with both hands and blew onto my clitoris, My trembling intensified and then his tongue was there. It felt so good I thought my legs would give way but his hand on my buttocks pressing me into his face, prevented me from falling to the ground.

I must have been a sight: dress discarded, boobs free, nipples hard, and panties on the floor. I wore only a pair of Givenchy ankle boots that were impossible to kick off. My legs were spread and a total stranger, a fully dressed stranger, knelt in front of me nuzzling my most intimate place. Strangely, a thought flashed through my brain that this scene would make a wonderful photograph, back-lit and shot with his back to the camera.

I was close to orgasm, I could feel the tension rising, the pleasurable feeling in my lower stomach building, and my breathing was shallow. I began panting as his tongue probed into me harder, licking with even more intensity. He continued licking while guiding me backward onto the bed. I rested my heels on the edge of the bed and let my thighs open wider. My pussy lips now parted naturally, allowing him to thrust his tongue deep inside.

The quick, darting movements stimulated my labia and clitoris and he briefly flicked across my anus. Massaging my clitoris with his tongue, I felt a finger enter me -- no, not one maybe two. I was incredibly open to accepting his fingers while he also sucked on my clitoris.

Oh my God, how I came... a deep and intense orgasm like I'd never experienced before.

Why had Steve put me in this situation? Why had he done this to me? Am I climaxing like this because it's a stranger, not Steve? How can I face him after this? What can I say to him? How can I possibly tell him, explain the exquisite feelings, how this stranger made me orgasm so quickly and so powerfully? Why had he never made me cum like this? Oh, why hadn't Steve done this to me before?

As I lay shuddering with pleasure, my lover crawled up over my body and fiddled clumsily with his zipper. I felt pressure against my pussy, a little stretching pain, and then a wave of pleasure when his engorged head penetrated me. I felt every contour, every vein and ridge, as he entered me. He stretched me beyond where I'd been stretched in the past and, as I felt the ridge of his cock head moving up my hot wet pussy, I released a whimper of delight. As I did this, I tilted my hips upward and he straightened his arms, raising his upper body in a kind of arc -- and driving himself fully into me.

All I knew then was that I was in a world awash with pleasure, loving the sensation of being completely stretched and filled. He froze with all of his lovely long thick cock buried inside, balls resting on me. After what seemed like an age, he began to pull out but, on the edge of withdrawing completely, he thrust back in again. At first, it hurt a little as he penetrated deeper and deeper with each lunge but then I hit a whole new dimension of pleasure.

I was stretched fully when he hit something unforgiving deep inside. The more I tried to push him away, the more of his cock he forced into me, creating a mix of intense pain and pleasure in the pit of my stomach.

He's too big. He really is too big, I can't take any more. Surely, this must be like giving birth (I can tell you now that it really doesn't compare).

As I screamed for him to take it out, something happened inside me. He thrust deeper and, as the tension and pain exploded from my body, an overwhelming sensation of pleasure, pressure, release, and lust enveloped me. His huge thick cock filled me and I had the most violently explosive orgasm.

He must be so big, I thought, that he'd hit my cervix, forced it aside, and passed it. I remembered a girl at university extolling the virtues of her boyfriend's huge cock and how I'd envied that girl. Why should I recall a girl I'd not seen for over fifteen years as the waves of the most astounding orgasm spread through my body? Odd!

The stranger stopped with his cock fully inserted, his back arched, his pubic bone thrust against mine, and he uttered little groans and grunts as I shook and convulsed beneath him

When that most astounding orgasm began to diminish, he resumed moving inside me, minutely at first, slowly rocking back and forth, until I felt like begging him to fuck me.

What? I don't think like that. Surely that didn't come from my mind.

But it had and I wanted to scream at him to 'fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me as I've never been fucked before, please fuck me'. He smiled down at me and I realised I'd actually shouted those words. I'd really begged him to fuck me.

He almost withdrew then rammed back into me and soon he was fucking me full length. He'd pull back until the head of his huge member was at my pussy entrance then he'd power that magnificent length into me. At the last moment, his pubic bone rubbed my clitoris. He continually slammed into me quickly and hard but pulled out so very slowly.

"Ooh yes... fffuck meee."

He truly drove me crazy and I was very close to cumming again. I grasped his shoulders, wrapped my legs around his waist, trapping him inside me, and tried to curl up as I pulled him into me. I wanted to make myself as small as possible so that I could feel his long, thick, exquisite cock getting deeper and stretching me wider.

I never thought I was making love. No, this was definitely not making love, this was fucking, pure dirty fucking, being FUCKED. The capitals are important here. I never thought that being FUCKED could be so intense. Realisation: I'd never really been FUCKED before. The word that I thought was so crude described this act perfectly. FUCKED, I was being FUCKED, I was being filled completely. FUCKED by a stranger! A man that I'd first seen probably less than thirty minutes ago was FUCKING me like I've never been fucked before. In truth, I'd never been FUCKED before, full stop.

How long is it since we met? What time is it? What's so strange about a stranger? He'd kissed me in places Steve had never done and, at that very moment, his cock was deeper inside me than my husband's could ever be. This stranger had made me orgasm three times -- or was it four? -- far more intensely than Steve had ever managed.

I bucked my hips and squeezed tightly around his shaft. "Cum, cum now, cum in me, please." He jerked, forcing our pelvic bones to grind. Exquisite agony pulsed from deep inside, intensifying my orgasm as he pushed further into me. I felt his cock twitch, pulse, and then throb as he gushed cum into me.

Tenth anniversary... I'd been married to Steve for ten years. In fact, almost exactly ten years to the hour -- and a man I'd met less than an hour ago had just ejaculated into my depths. He'd filled me with his sperm, he'd actually had his tongue in my anus, for God's sake. How personal does a guy need to be before... hang on, does this happen as strangers? Do I need to know his name?