Written by Alison

11 Jan 2013

Hi, my name is Alison and until last year I had never done anything which could be remotely described as sexually adventurous. I reached 40 years of age, had been married for almost 20 years, no kids and a reasonably well paid career. The lust and passion of the early years had long gone, the only passion my husband showed was for his beloved football team and soccer in general. Yes, we still had sex now and again, though he'd ballooned from the slim fit guy I married, to19 stone in the last 5 years, which I didn't find attractive. I'd put on a bit of weight too, mostly around my waist and thighs. My tits were fine after a boob job in 2007, having them reduced from a sagging 38ff to a more comfortable and firm 36d, not that it did much for my sex life. I'd have liked more sex but had to be satisfied masturbating, or using a vibrator, while he was away supporting his team, which was most weeks. I looked forward to him being away so I could have a few hours or even a whole evening playing with my toys, imagining some hunk was fucking me.

I'd resigned myself to the fact that the odd shag and masturbation was all I was going to get. The thought of having an affair or picking up a guy for sex was just a fantasy I had sometimes. When I met Dan about 18 months ago and we became friendly it didn't occur to me that it would go any further. For starters he was about 10 years younger than me. I found him attractive, he made me laugh, was a good listener when I moaned about my husband always being away watching football (maybe I was subconsciously sending the message I was available). He began to feature in my fantasies and I had some really good orgasms, masturbating, imaging it was him fucking me. Whatever, he didn't try anything, and I didn't do anything to suggest becoming more than friends. We'd meet for a coffee, Lunch a few times and chat, that was it. Until early in the New Year 2012.

I hadn't seen him since before Christmas, when he'd broken up with his GF which I'd noted. We'd met for coffee and afterwards were passing a shop window and I caught sight of my reflection, noticing I'd put on weight, particularly my waist. I said something about needing to diet, he said he could do with loosing some weight after Christmas suggesting we both diet, a bit of a competition.

I started walking to work, cut out high calorie food and my weight dropped steadily, once or twice a week comparing how we were doing. He told me he weighed after showering each morning and a picture of him naked flashed into my mind and I wondered, not for the first time what his body was like and how big his cock was. By April I'd lost well over a stone and reached my target of 8 and a ½. stone. Not quite the toned bikini body I'd had in my twenties, but I thought I looked pretty good, my thighs and bum quite trim, my tits firm. It made me feel more confident about my body. I'd been thinking more and more about Dan, noticed he seemed to be giving me appreciative glances, more than once complementing me on how good I looked. My husband barely noticed. I decided I wanted to have more sex and I wanted it to be Dan that fucked me, and determined to make it happen.

Over the next few days I decided on a plan of sorts. My husband was going to a mid week away match, I arranged to meet Dan after work supposedly for a drink to celebrate our successful dieting. I wore a tight shortish dress, which showed plenty of leg when I sat, with a sexy little thong, matching balcony bra and nude hold up stockings underneath. I gave him a peck on the cheek, close to his mouth, lingering longer than just a friendly greeting. I sat crossing my legs, letting the dress ride up revealing just a hint of the lace stocking tops, enjoying titillating him. I flirted with him, made several suggestive comments, indicating I was interested in being more than just friends.

In the event my plan worked better and more easily than I envisaged. I was teasing him, saying I didn't believe he'd lost the weight he claimed. He of course denied he'd cheated and I challenged him to prove it by going to his flat to weigh ourselves. He gave me a look, a gleam in his eye, guessing where things might lead, then said “OK, if you're sure” We walked to his flat. He let us in, took my coat, opened a door off the lounge to the bedroom. The scales were on the floor next to the bed.

He removed his jacket, glanced at his phone, pressed a button, switching it off I assumed (switching on the camera I found out after. A great help writing this though) and propped it on the bedside cabinet. “Me first” I said wanting to get started. I removed my shoes and stepped on the scales. I could feel him close to me watching the dial. It steadied, 8 stone 10 pounds, 3 pounds over, about what I'd expected. “Not quite what you said” he laughed. My heart was thumping as I replied, trying to sound confident and hide my nerves, “That’s because I usually weigh myself naked. Do you think I should take my clothes off?” It seemed an eternity, but really only seconds before he replied that he thought that a good idea. I asked him to unzip me, the dress slipped to the floor, his fingers touched my back as he undid my bra and it joined the dress on the floor. He kissed my neck, his hands moved, cupping my tits, his fingers brushing my nipples. My nipples stiffened, not the only thing getting stiff, I could feel his cock, pressing against my back.

One of his hands moved from my tits, caressing my abdomen, steadily moving towards my pussy. His fingers didn't stop when he reached the top of my thong, he slipped them inside, brushing them through my trimmed bush, pushing the thong down to the tops of my thighs. I parted my legs a little, his fingers touched my clitoris. I gasped then sighed contentedly as he slipped a finger into my rapidly moistening hole. He began finger fucking me, two then a third finger inside me. I started moving in time, riding his hand, pressing my pussy against the base of his thumb. I reached down, pushed my hand under his, frigging my clitty. I could feel I was going to orgasm, rode his probing fingers harder, urgently rubbing my button. I felt the first tingle, moaned I was cumming, jerking on his fingers as I climaxed. I hadn't cum like that in years, hadn't got as wet either, I’d often needed a bit of lube.

He slipped his fingers from me, I practically collapsed onto the bed. He was hurriedly undressing, looking at me as I took off my thong and lay back, leaving my stockings on, with my legs open, wanting him to see my cunt, see how wet and aroused I was. I reached down, fingering myself, uninhibitedly masturbating in front of him. Using language which I never normally used I asked huskily“I hope that's not all I'm getting. Aren't you going to fuck me?” “I've wanted to fuck you or ages” he replied as he removed his underwear, and I saw his cock for the first time. I'd never behaved in such a brazen or slutty manner. I can't begin to explain why, perhaps repressed desires to be a Slut, an unconscious decision, once I'd decided to be unfaithful, to do things I'd only fantasised about? Whatever the reason I was turned on by my behaviour, and once I was naked had felt completely relaxed and at ease.

He joined me on the bed, laid on his side watching me masturbate, lent over kissed my neck, then my breasts, sucked my nipples. My other hand found his cock, a nice hard 6 or 7 inches, heavily veined, pre cum already leaking from the tip. I held it, wanking him, all I could think of was feeling him inside me. I stroked him for only a minute or two, then pulled him on top of me. I held his hard, throbbing cock, spread my legs wide and guided his manhood to my waiting sex. He entered me, I let go of his cock and put my arms around his neck as he fully penetrated my soaking hole. I pulled his mouth to mine, kissing him, mouths open, tongues entwined. He withdrew his cock from my pussy and slowly slid it back inside me. He pulled it out again, fucking me, slow and deep. I raised my legs, wrapping them around him. He began fucking me faster, ramming his cock into me. I gripped him more tightly with my thighs, forcing him back in my cunt each time he pulled out. I wanted to be fucked hard and rough. Each time he penetrated me I moaned with pleasure, gasped “Yes. Fuck me” I was getting close, he was steadily fucking me to climax. His cock pistoning in and out of my cunt. He slammed it in “Fuck me” out and in again “Fuck me” Over and over, fucking me harder, faster, seemingly deeper. With each thrust I got louder, the gaps between each thrust shorter “Fuck Me”............... “Fuck Me”........ “FUCK ME”..... “FUCK ME” ... “YES! YES! FUUUUCK MEEE. OH FUCK! OH FUCK! I'M CUMMING” I gripped him, holding him in me as I climaxed, feeling his cock jerking inside my pussy as he ejaculated. I wanted to feel him inside me and held him until I felt his cock soften and unwrapped my legs from around him.

We lay together afterwards. I could feel his cum dribbling from my pussy, I put my hand over it to catch it. He took my hand and moved it, got between my legs, spread them wide and using his fingers stretched my cunt open. He went down on me, licking and sucking my cunt clean which I found surprisingly erotic. We showered together, soaping each others bodies, caressing and arousing each other. We went back to the bedroom. I took his cock in my mouth, something I'd rarely done before without a lot of persuasion and sucked him until he was fully erect. He manoeuvred me into the sixty nine position, pleasuring one another with our mouths, before he finally took me from behind, fucking me to another orgasm before I had to leave. By the time my husband returned from the football match I was tucked up in bed, pretending to be asleep.

Every football match I went to Dans flat and he fucked me senseless and I found he was a really dirty sod, persuading me to let him video us fucking in HD, getting me to perform sex acts with vibrators and dildos, even suggesting that he invite some of his mates round so he could video them fucking me, which I said I’d think about. The best sex I'd ever had, got even better when we fucked outdoors one warm Sunday afternoon, the risk of being caught exhilarating.

We had been meeting two or three times a week for about 3 weeks when I remembered that my husband was going away for the Euro 2012 football. I'd booked some time off for the same time, had nothing planned but realised I could spend more time with Dan. I was excited when I told him, then deflated when he told me that he was going on holiday at the same time, the first he'd mentioned it that I could recall. I could have cried. He could see I was upset. “There's nothing stopping you from coming with me. I'd have asked if I'd known” he said. The idea was more than tempting. My husband the eternal optimist had tickets to the Final. I knew I could change my holiday dates to fit in with Dan but could I get a way with it? A thought occurred. “Aren't you going with anyone?” I asked. He said he met up with some friends in the South of France. “It's June there'll be seats available on the flight, there'll be no problem with the apartment. Tell your husband you're going with a friend” he suggested. “It might work. But first I need cheering up. Fuck me then tell me more” By the time he'd satisfied me we didn't really have a chance to discuss it further so it was two or three days before I saw him again.

By then I’d decided I would go. I'd mentioned to my husband I was thinking of going on holiday with a friend while he was away supporting England. “You may as well” was all he said not even asking who the friend was. I sent Dan a text telling him I could go with him. He texted back telling me I'd need my passport details to book the flight the next night.

He checked the flight to Beziers, seats were available. He started the booking, clicked passed the hold bags section. “I'll never fit all my clothes in my cabin luggage” I said. He laughed, “You won't need many. We're going to Cap d'Agde.” I looked perplexed, I'd never heard of it. He enlightened me. “It's a naturist resort. You can be naked for the whole two weeks” I was lost for words. “It's great you'll love it. If you don't want to come I won't book the flight” he told me. Somewhat nervously I told him to book them and tell me more about where we were going. He'd been several times, nothing to worry about. Everyone would be nude. Things could get pretty wild, just about anything goes. Sun, sea and sex. Lots of sex with men or women, threesomes or group sex if you fancy that. Sex, outdoors on the beach being watched, that piqued my interest. It's entirely up to you whether you participate, but I reckon once you see what's going on you'll want to join in, he explained, giving me a very dirty grin.

I wasn't sure if I believed some of the things he told me, but an internet search seemed to confirm what he told me was true which made me both nervous and excited. I was looking forward to being more sexually adventurous, though uncertain whether I could relax enough to be watched having sex, let alone let a stranger fuck me. However, the more I thought about it, the more determined I became, to try to overcome my inhibitions. It wasn't just to please Dan, who I knew wanted to watch me being fucked, but for myself. I suppose 40 is a watershed age and I'd wasted over 20 sexually active years. If I could suppress my hang ups, ignore all the normal rules of sexual behaviour I'd conformed to until I met Dan, I intended to take the next steps towards experiencing sexual liberation.

This would seem a good place to end the first part of the story. I'll continue in a day or two if anyone wants to hear what I got up to.