Keith and I have been in a sexless marriage for over 10 years. I've had offers at work, of course (one was from my line manager, who's a woman), but I've always turned them down. I've been perfectly happy getting relief from my little vibrator. I was pretty sure Keith was watching porn on his computer, because whenever I took a tea or a coffee to his office (the door of which was always shut), he would quickly change the screen to something bland like the weather forecast or news headlines. I once saw a close-up of a cream pie being performed by a young woman who'd clearly just had a spanking. I determined to get into his computer when he was at work. The 'key', of course, was the pesky machine's password. And I'm certainly no amateur hacker. I sat at his desk for over an hour, tapping in the names of every one of our nephews and nieces, and every cat or dog we'd ever owned. Zilch. Then, as I was about to throw in the towel, I happened to glance up at his noticeboard. It included a picture of the screen godess he'd always idolised: Marilyn Monroe. Could that be it? I tapped in the seven letter word MARILYN. Bingo! Jackpot! Lights flashed and everything suddenly sprang into life! I felt like one of the Hatton Garden jewel thieves. And what a haul! His list of over 100 favourite sites included every branch of pornography, from trannies wanking to girlie piss action. There were several adult chat sites, as well as a stunning collection of upskirt photos, with some mouth-watering shaven pussies I'd have happily given a good tongue-fucking! Next I visited his email box and messages sent. There were ultra-horny conversations with both sexes (my Keith obviously swung both ways), but pride of place seemed to be reserved for a slapper named Gloria, whose last email was surmounted by a selfie of her huge knockers popping out of a scarlet and black bra. It read:- "Hi Keith babes. Just back from Majorca with Les Girls. We all got laid every night (mostly Spanish barmen and waiters) and Sharon even managed a threesome with a couple of swingers from Chester. Some of us were so sore we could hardly climb the steps onto the plane! Thought you'd like to see this pic of how lovely and brown my boobs are. Hope you've been good while I've been away - not playing with that pecker of yours too often, and certainly not shagging little wifey!" I was sorely tempted to send the bitch a snotty reply, but, decided instead to use all the information I'd collected to my advantage. If Keith was so turned on by all this filth, I wondered, why wasn't he interested in me? On the rare occasions that we did it, it was always textbook missionary stuff and usually over in 5 minutes. Then he'd roll over and go to sleep. Kinky sex was never of the agenda. So I paid a visit to our high street sex shop and bought myself a bra just like Gloria's, plus a matching corset and some fishnet stockings. After imbibing a couple of large g&t's just before my hubby was due home from work, I stretched out on the sofa in the lounge. I heard the car pull into the driveway and Keith's key go in the front doot. "I'm in the lounge," I called out in a sultry voice, opening my legs and stroking my snatch. He stood in the doorway looking aghast at his heavily-made-up, half-pissed slutty wife frigging herself. "Blimey!" was the most romantic thing he could say, though I noticed he was furiously stroking his crotch. "Just get those fucking slacks off and give me a good seeing-to, if you know what's good for you, you little worm! Otherwise I'll go upstairs to your office and send that slut Gloria a 'get lost' email." He did as he was told, rapidly removing his trousers and underpants. He had a nice boner. "On your knees, wimp, and start licking my pussy! Get me sopping wet! Then stand between my legs, wank yourself off and shoot spunk all over my cunt lips. Drench me, you creep!" Meekly my husband did as he was told. As I massaged his jizz into my slit, bringing myself off with a lovely orgasm, I thought to myself: "I think we're going to do a lot more of this, Keith!"