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Subject: {ASSM} The Journal 1/3
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Date: Fri, 12 Nov 1999 01:10:01 -0500
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The following story has sexually explicit content. If you are
too young, offended by such material, or in a location where such
material is illegal, you should not read this.
This story has three parts and will make sense only if the parts
are read in order.
--------------------------------------------------------------
THE JOURNAL
PART 1/3
Something happened last night.
I have not written a journal since my college days, when I was
discovering sex and was using my journal as a way of examining my
feelings, but something happened last night that caused me to revert to
a journal.
I'd better try to set the context first.
Until last night, I had always thought that I had a fairly wide
variety of sexual experience. But last night I came to realize that in
all my life my experience had been fairly limited. I had slept with,
let's not be coy, fucked two men, one of whom became my husband, and I
had given a hand job to one other. True, while I was discovering sex in
college, I'd have fucked anyone if the occasion arose. I tried to fuck
the hand job but he was too large to fit. And my activities with those
three men kept me pretty busy, so it seemed like I was fucking as much
as I possibly could. Dating two men at same time and fucking them both
seemed a particularly wild lifestyle to me at the time. Additionally,
there was the added thrill, since I never knew for sure when one of them
would show up, of never knowing who I would be fucking the next night.
But when my future husband finally made the commitment to me, I
became monogamous. He's been the only one ever since. We experimented a
bit in the early days, but after a while we settled down to "our
favorite": a bit of oral foreplay followed by either the missionary
position or, more commonly, me on top. It's like having filet mignon
every night for dinner. It may be your favorite, but sometimes you want
veal cordon bleu or Peking duck or even pizza. So, all in all, in
thinking about it last night I realized, somewhat to my surprise, that
my experience has been rather restricted.
This realization came to me suddenly when Tom put his hand on my
breast at Jessica's. Tom and Jessica have been going together for ages,
but since both of them work at home (she does copy editing, he consults)
they've kept separate houses. Actually, it's probably because both of
them have been divorced and they're each afraid to make the necessary
commitment to move in together. Anyway, they're old friends of ours and
last night they had my husband and me over for dinner and Tom put his
hand on my breast.
It was after dinner. Jessica was doing something in the kitchen
and wouldn't let me help, my husband was in the bathroom, and Tom and I
were out on the deck watching the sunset, standing close to each other
to get the same unobstructed view, when gently, but without any prelude,
Tom put his hand on my breast.
I should have moved away or pushed his hand off, but I didn't.
Rather it gave me a feeling that I had not known since college when I'd
be out on a date and my date would dare, for the first time, to feel me
up. Last night, there was that thrill of excitement and youthfulness, a
nostalgic throwback to those early times, a remembrance that sex didn't
have to be routine, it could be new and adventurous.
That was all there was to it. We stood there watching the view
and he fondled my breast. My nipple got hard and he rubbed it and then
we went back inside to join the others. I think it was then that the
realization about my limited experience hit me, but it may have been a
bit latter, after we had talked about Jessica's idea for a fun weekend.
She said she had found what looked like a great place to go in
Jamaica, private, right on the beach, not too expensive, with good food
available, and various activities offered should we want to try them.
Because there were two-bedroom cabins, she and Tom thought it would be
just great for the four of us - swimming, sunning ourselves, walking on
the beach, and eating, just the quiet kind of relaxation we preferred.
It wasn't until we had all evinced enthusiasm for the idea, had
determined when we could all go, and had pretty much committed ourselves
to it that she casually mentioned that it was one of those "clothing
optional" (i.e., nude) places.
My husband had some hesitation about that, but Jessica argued
that most beaches were topless anyway, and this just meant much less to
pack and none of that getting sand in your swimsuit. I just sat there
recalling Tom's hand while, after a bit more hesitancy, my husband
eventually yielded to Jessica's and Tom's enthusiasms. We agreed to go.
I didn't sleep much after that. I kept thinking about Tom's
hand and the idea of us all being naked together. So after my husband
left for work this morning, I decided to restart my journal and to write
this, hoping it would help me sort it out. I realize now that I'm
probably making a big fuss about a little flirting and some nude
bathing, that it's probably due to my limited sexual experience. But
still I feel that something special has happened. I don't know what.
******************************************************************
It's late. Jessica and Tom have gone to their bedroom. My
husband is in our bedroom, reading in bed (if he hasn't dozed off
already), and I'm sitting in the living room writing in my journal.
This is our first day in Jamaica.
We flew down this morning, checked into our cabin, and then had
lunch at the common dining room. I was comforted to see that everyone
wore at least some kind of cover-up in the dining room. When we went
down to the beach, however, it was a different story. We passed a
number of completely nude people, in and out of the water. I tried both
to avert my eyes and to peek at the same time (which was a little hard
to do). By the time we got to our own beach, in front of our cabin, I
was pretty much resigned to the nudity, but excited that I was about to
participate. We all slipped out of our clothes somewhat coyly at first,
and lay down on a big blanket. Then Jessica read the timetable and
discovered that there was a wind surfing lesson just about to start. I
said that, after the flight down, I was in no mood to do anything
energetic, I just wanted to relax on the beach. But Jessica and my
husband were all set to learn to wind surf. The two of them are the
athletes, both of them run almost every day, while I'm the inactive
type. So when Tom offered to stay and keep me company, off the two of
them went.
I lay back on the blanket with my eyes closed and started
soaking up the sun. Tom and I chatted casually and intermittently about
nothing special, and I started to doze off. All of a sudden, I got that
feeling you get when someone is staring at you. I opened my eyes and
sure enough Tom's eyes were riveted on my naked body and his penis was
getting rigid. We looked at each other for a few moments more and I
finally said that we had better go for a swim.
The water was not at all cold, but it did the trick. After we
swam a bit and splashed a bit and Tom had become flaccid, I felt it was
safe to come out. When we were back on the blanket, Tom pointed out
that the sun-block we had all put on before lunch had probably washed
off and should be replenished. He took out the bottle and, without
asking, began to rub it on my shoulders and back. It felt good so I lay
down on my stomach and let him do it. He did my arms, and my back down
to my waist, and then started on my legs. He worked his way up my
thighs and then, in a smooth, continuous motion, continued on to my
buttocks. It all seemed innocent and appropriate and nice to feel his
hands massaging my ass, even when he slipped a finger between my cheeks
and rubbed my asshole a bit.
He rolled me over and got the front of my legs and then started
on my chest. I just closed my eyes and let him rub the lotion onto my
breasts. I stayed still even when he toyed with my nipples. Why didn't
I stop him? I had the same thrill running through me that I did when he
first put his hand on my breast. Somehow, there didn't seem any
alternative. I really didn't give it any thought, I just let him
explore my body.
He finished by massaging the lotion onto my belly and then down
between my legs, gently covering my labia, rubbing the lotion in with
his finger tips. "We don't want you to get burnt there, do we?"
And then he handed me the bottle and lay on his stomach. So it
seemed natural for me to put it on his arms and legs and back and
buttocks, even a little on his asshole. Then he turned over. I tried
to ignore his erection as I got his chest, his stomach, and his thighs.
But then I told myself that I didn't want him to burn there either, so
I put some more lotion on my hand and began rubbing it onto his
testicles. Finally I began stroking his hard penis and my mind kind of
went blank. I don't know how for long I had my hand wrapped his prick,
dreamily stroking it up and down, when I became conscious of the change
in his breathing. Embarrassed when I realized what was happening, I
quickly let go of him and turned away. Without a word, he turned over
on his belly.
It was a good thing I had stopped then, because a few minutes
later my husband and Jessica came bouncing over the dunes up to our
blanket with tales of how disastrous had been their attempts at wind
surfing. They joked about their ill-conceived attempts and eventually
took my mind off what Tom and I had been doing.
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking, laughing, sunning,
and, eventually, going in for a final swim. Then we put on cover-ups,
had a lovely dinner, and went for a walk on the beach as the sun went
down. My husband had brought his guitar and Tom his recorder. We sat
there in the quiet of the evening listening to them playing, accompanied
by the sound of the gently rolling surf, with nobody saying anything.
My mind seemed to drift away from my body and all I was left with was
feeling - the feel of Tom's hand, of his prick - softly wrapped in the
sound of the music.
What is happening to me?
****************************************************************
I'm home now. We flew back the next day, but not before it
happened.
I had stayed up late writing the above entry in this journal, so
I wanted to sleep late the next morning. Of course, my husband had to
get up early for his run. He and Jessica had agreed the previous night
to an early run along the beach. I accepted his good morning kiss,
rolled over, and went back to sleep.
It seemed like only a moment later when I felt him slip into bed
beside me. Had I slept? Had he changed his mind about the run? I felt
his hand on my body and lazily rolled over toward him, keeping my eyes
still closed, not really wanting to wake up. But there was something
different about the feel. I cracked one eye open the tiniest bit and
realized that it wasn't my husband at all, it was Tom.
As with everything else up to then, I just let him. I kept my
eyes closed, maintaining the pretense that I was sleeping, while he
stroked my body, fondled my breasts, rolled my nipples between his thumb
and forefinger, took them in his mouth and suckled them. He put his
hand between my legs and we both discovered how wet I was, as his finger
slipped in easily. He slid another finger in and, while he moved his
fingers in and out, he pressed his thumb on my clit.
If I had ever considered the possibility of denying him, it was
too late now. I was breathing heavily and rolling my hips from side to
side. He climbed between my legs, nestled the tip of his cock against
my vulva, and, supporting himself on his outstretched arms, stopped. He
held that position without moving until I finally opened my eyes and
found him staring into them. His look seemed to say, "This is your
chance to say ‘no'." Looking back into his eyes, I answered by pushing
my pelvis up, trying to capture more of his cock.
That was all he needed. He slid all the way into me and then
began that wonderful in and out motion. Soon he was pumping harder and
I was thrashing about beneath him. I wrapped my arms around him and
pulled his weight down on me, pressing his chest against mine. My nails
dug into his back as I felt the tingling start in my cunt and ripple
through my body. I was fully aware that I was fucking someone other
than my husband, someone new, something I had only done years and years
ago before we were married, and that gave my burgeoning orgasm a special
kind of thrill, and extra frisson, one that I dimly remembered from my
distant past. I came with a loud cry when I felt him shudder and thrust
and come within me.
By the time Jessica and my husband were back from their run, Tom
and I had showered and dressed in our cover-ups and were ready for
breakfast. We all spent the morning on the beach, had lunch, and flew
back home.
My husband has gone to work this morning, so I've spent it
writing in this journal. I still don't understand what has happened to
me.
****************************************************************
Nothing happened for a week, so I haven't written anything,
although I've certainly been playing back the experience in my mind.
The other night, my husband and I made love in our usual way and
everything seemed back to normal. But today, after my husband had his
run and left for work, while I was still lingering with the newspaper
over my morning coffee, I heard a knock at the front door. It was Tom.
"Hi, come on in. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
He came in without saying anything. He just took my hand and
led me into the bedroom and, without any hesitancy, started stripping
me. Looking back now, I cannot explain why I am so passive with him,
but I stood there unresisting as first my robe and then my nightie were
lifted from me, leaving me standing stark naked. I let him stroke my
body, squeeze my breasts, rub my clit, suck my nipples. I even spread
my legs to give his fingers better access into my pussy, which by that
time was oozing fluids. Then I let him position me so I was kneeling on
the bed with my legs spread and my cunt pointing back at him, and I held
that position while he took off his clothes.
But it wasn't my cunt that he was after. His finger, wet with
the juices of that cunt, poked at my asshole. First the tip slid in,
and then the entire finger. That is not something that I would normally
like, but I offered him no opposition. Nor did I object when he forced
a second finger in and began spreading the two fingers apart, stretching
my tight little ring. His other hand slid around and stroked my clit
causing me to give an involuntary shiver. I began pushing back, trying
to take his fingers farther into me.
Then his fingers were gone and the head of his cock pressed
against my asshole. I don't know when he put it on but, as he pushed
the tip of his cock against my hole, I could feel that his cock was
covered with some cool lubricant. I had only had a cock in my ass once
before and I hadn't liked it, but I didn't object to this treatment now.
To the contrary, I pushed back against him, straining to open my tiny
hole as much as I could in order to let him in. I could feel him
finally break the tension of my sphincter and begin to enter me. With a
little more continued pressure, he suddenly slid all the way in.
We paused a moment. Then he grasped my hips and began fucking,
sliding his prick in and out of my ass. I reveled in the new sensation.
I was being fucked up the ass, and not by my husband. It was
different, much more enjoyable, than that earlier time. I felt the
confidence of Tom's strokes and I felt elated and free and, although he
had long since ceased stroking my clit, I began to come. It wasn't the
physical sensation so much as the idea of it all. A new man, a new
cock, a new position, and a new kind of life! "Yes!," I cried, and I
could feel him coming in my ass, pumping his semen into my bowels.
When he was finished and had pulled out, he rolled me on my back
and placed the fingers of my right hand on my cunt. Although I had
never masturbated in front of anyone before, it seemed the most natural
thing in the world now. My fingers began to strum my clit, rubbing it,
gently and slowly at first and then gradually harder and faster. I
looked at him as he stood there watching me, his prick sticking up hard
again. And then I forgot about him and lost myself in the motion of my
hand and then in my throbbing orgasm.
When he left, I realized that he hadn't said a word.
I know now that I have entered into a new life, but I don't
understand where it is going.
END OF PART 1/3
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
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