Strap on Surprise!

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Athletic

The story of my life so far has been as unremarkable and commonplace as my married name – Smith. I’m the eldest of two daughters born to very happily married parents and had an idyllic childhood in Hampshire. I really wanted for nothing — my sister and I could not have been more loved. After going to a so-called good school and completing my A-Levels, I trained as a legal secretary and began working for a firm of solicitors.

Having had two relationships which lasted for a year each, I met my husband Brian while out with some friends on a hen night. After three years of dating and some arguments when I said I didn’t want to change my name to his, I married him. Forced to relinquish the unusual surname I loved, I became boring, dull Julie Smith. Predictably we married in church and the first of our children arrived two years later; with the second being born within a year of his older sister.

My husband’s job dictated where we lived, and I don’t think it ever occurred to him that this should be any different. From having a good, well paid job with the prospect of promotion, I went on to have a series of short lived, dead-end shifts in shops and offices to fit in with childcare. Finally when the children started education, I stood up to Brian and said I’d accommodated his career enough. I insisted we settle in one place and stay there so the kids would not have to keep moving schools, and I could also have a stable job that gave me some sense of self worth.

After starting work part-time in a local gift shop, I soon got promoted to managing the place. I was happy. The early rows I had with my husband stopped, and I thought he was contented too. The kids had lots of friends, and did well at school. We had a nice house, and two cars. We had foreign holidays each year.

At first, things were always good in the bedroom. Even if we’d had the most almighty bust up, once we went to bed everything was alright. True there was THAT sex act which my husband kept asking me to try — but I found the idea of anything going into my back passage abhorrent. After I repeatedly told him that begging and pleading just isn’t sexy, he seemed to accept that my butthole was out of bounds and stopped pestering me on a nightly basis for anal sex.

So we rubbed along together. The first fire and sexual frisson we had had when we got married, slowly aged from a youthful three times a day, into a twice a week habit. Our variation was mundane. Missionary, reverse cowgirl or good old fashioned doggy style was the extent of our sexual repertoire, interspersed with lots of blow jobs and pussy licking. From doing it anywhere we could, we matured into liking it in comfort in our big double bed.

There are hundreds of thousands of marriages that are the same I guess. Many people don’t know anything different and are blissfully happy for fifty or sixty years. I suppose our union might have been the same if I hadn’t had an unscheduled day off one Monday, when one of my staff asked me to swop shifts so she could go to a wedding at the weekend.

Brian also had a day off and we’d planned to go out for lunch, but he got a call from his boss about a last minute emergency so off he went. I didn’t really mind and enjoyed having the house to myself for once, and pottered around reading and watching daytime TV. As I watched a rerun of “The Golden Girls”, it occurred to me that I hadn’t checked my email for a few days. So I went upstairs and found my husband hadn’t turned the computer off before he left. As I went into Facebook, I realised that he’d also forgotten to log out of his account in his haste to get to the office. We don’t snoop or check on each other so I hastily pointed my mouse to the right of the screen to switch into my own page.

As I did so a message popped up at the bottom of the screen.

It said, “Hello sexy.”

From then on my life was never the same again. At first I wasn’t particularly worried and thought it was probably a friend or colleague of Brian’s just being flirtatious. But then something made me check his private messages. I felt ashamed and guilty as I clicked on the exchange with the author of “Hello sexy,” but was unable to stop myself from reading on.

I was transfixed by the text on the screen. After fifteen years of marriage I felt like I was spying on my husband. But I couldn’t stop reading as it slowly dawned on me that a woman called Anne and her whispered filth had been subtly undermining my marriage for a few months. A feeling of dread spread over me as I realised my security and that of my children was at threat.

As I read their discussions of that sex act I could never quite bring myself to try, I realised my husband was really quite obsessed with it as I read on and saw his complaints about my reluctance to try anal sex. Feeling my stomach roll over I went on to read their cybersex chats …”bending you over the sink I slide down your panties to spread your cheeks and lube you up, then I slide my big hard cock up your nice tight little erotik film izle dirtbox and start pumping, twisting your nipples roughly as you squeal and moan” and in reply, …”god I’ve started playing at the thought of your big, hard cock plundering my arse — we have to meet you know.”

As I kept going I realised they’d been also sending each other naked pictures, getting off together using webcams and having phone sex on Thursday nights when I do my life drawing class. Tears poured down my face as I saw my husband’s comments and compliments to Anne — the foul language they had been using shocked me even though I don’t consider myself to be a prude. She obviously did not have my inhibitions about walking around naked, and from what I could gather had been spreading it on cam so my husband could see inside her pussy and watch her masturbate with a dildo.

The emotional infidelity was worse and I continued to cry as I saw how Brian had been confiding in Anne about me and our marriage. His disloyalty was even more of a betrayal than the secret friendship he’d had with her. At various times when they’d been chatting, he’d said “I’d be better off single” and “She holds me back” and “She never bothers with her appearance anymore.” I went on to read about his frustration when I’d dug my heels in and refused to move house for the third time in five years, meaning that he couldn’t accept a lucrative contract and realised I’d married a very ambitious but extremely selfish man.

Finally I couldn’t take any more of it in, and just made it to the bathroom where I was violently sick. Then as I sat in the kitchen with a much needed coffee, my tears subsided to fury. I knew that unless I took quick action, Brian probably would try anal sex and a lot of other things besides with the very liberal minded woman who had been sexually ensnaring him with her fantasies. And that she would be only too happy to let him. I pictured my husband tearing off Anne’s panties and smearing Vaseline on her willing anus, before bending her over a table to slip his dick into her tight little pucker to bugger her long and hard.

When I went back to the computer to switch it off I found some more messages from the sleazy bitch. She’d thought he was logging on at work — and as I thought of how Brian had been risking his job I became even angrier. Sitting down I went back to the first messages they’d exchanged just under four months ago, and read them all the way through.

As I read I learned that Anne’s other half suffers from Multiple Sclerosis and began to see why she was putting herself out online, although I couldn’t establish how she’d first made contact with Brian. Claiming she still “loved” her husband of thirty years, she’d found an outlet online talking dirty with my man. As I continued to read I found out that she had no intention of ever leaving her marriage, but guessed she simply wanted a fuck buddy to get the sex her partner could no longer give her.

“Not with my guy!” I thought as I rang the mobile number Anne had thoughtfully provided him with. Using a mixture of threats and bluff, I warned her that I knew where she lived and worked, then said I’d print her messages to Brian off and send them to her husband if their correspondence and phone chats didn’t stop. I then went on to say if she told Brian I’d contacted her, I’d also print their exchange off and send it to her boss. There was a short silence then she hung up without another word.

Finally I deleted the messages she’d just sent to Brian on Facebook so he wouldn’t know I’d seen them, and turned off the desktop. Then I had to run to the bathroom to be sick again, but as I retched I made a vow to myself that I would get through this one way or another.

That night I was in physical and mental pain as I ate dinner with my family and wondered how I could ever trust Brian in the future. From what I’d learned, I knew he hadn’t met Anne yet due to the distance between them. I also knew that they had been planning to hook up in a hotel and had been trying to figure out the logistics of this and what excuses they’d make to me and Anne’s husband. I still felt as if he had already cheated me, even though he’d never touched the dirty slut.

I’ve never opened up sexually about my marriage to anyone, but the next day I did. My friend and colleague could see something was wrong while we were at work and asked what it was. At first I claimed it was nothing and that we’d had a row the night before. Then I caved in and collapsed on the floor in a sobbing heap. Sally went to the door and locked it before putting the closed sign up. As I drank the tea she’d made me, I told her the whole sordid story. Her eyes widened but she let me finish.

“Well” she said, “I think Brian is a selfish bastard and I’ve always wondered what you saw in him. I wish you wouldn’t, but if you must stay with him, I don’t know what the big deal is. Having your arse shagged isn’t that bad — Pete often slides up mine when the mood takes him. He says film izle it’s just somewhere different to stick it!”

Genuinely shocked, I said “But the thought of backdoor rumpy makes me feel sick — it’s dirty. I’d be worried about er you know… shitting on the bed sheets if things really got going.”

Sally responded with “I’ve heard tell from Pete’s friends that it’s not a good idea to try anal sex with a vegetarian” which did crack us both up laughing, before she went on to tell me that she simply empties her bowls and gives her anus a good wash out before they do the deed, and they put a towel down on the bed as a precaution before proceeding.

“But doesn’t it hurt? What does it feel like to have him cum in your arsehole?” I weakly asked.

“Not if your partner goes very slowly and you use lube. It is fun and I like it to be honest. It is also naughty and that’s the attraction and why we keep doing it. It’s not dangerous as long as it’s not done too roughly and you use plenty of lubrication. If you are worried about cum in your bum, then make him use a condom. Lots of people do that.”

Faintly I said that I had heard enough for one day, and that enough was enough. Thanks to Sally I was able to finish work early, and drove home pondering about anal sex and how I’d ever bring myself to try it. I continued to think about it as I noticed Brian seemed a little quiet and distant that evening. I thought I knew why. He was wondering why he hadn’t heard from Anne that day.

As a couple of weeks went by he seemed a bit sad, but slowly appeared to return to his normal self, but I guessed this wouldn’t last. I also knew I’d not solved the problem that had started this in the first place. Brian wanted anal sex and it would only be a matter of time before he’d be knocking on a willing backdoor with an owner who’d be only too happy for him to open it up and cum inside!

I had a choice. Either I would have to be secretly checking up on my husband’s online activities or I could tell him what I knew what he’d been doing. Or I could try and overcome my aversion to anal sex and at least try it.

Day after day I dwelled on what it would be like to have something big and hard ramming up my virginal little pucker, but couldn’t get my head round allowing my husband to go up there and do this foul thing to me. I failed to see why many people enjoy it so much — the very thought of it made me want to vomit! No way was I letting Brian have that much power over me!

One day when I was home alone I decided to google the topic of anal sex and as thousands of links to websites appeared, thought I’d click on a video or two. The sight of young models with perfect firm butt cheeks and muscular men ramming their cocks between them made me feel sick and inadequate. Then I clicked on one of the many sites that allow their members to post home videos. Realising I would have to pay to see anything I was about to leave when I saw a selection of free videos that site members had voted the best.

Clicking on one, I was taken to a bedroom with a messed up bed. On it was a middle aged woman lying on her front, with some pillows under her pelvis. She had her orange peel textured, wobbling backside pointing up at the camera and her enormous thighs were spread. Her equally overweight male partner had his hand between her butt cheeks. As the camera zoomed in, I could see him rubbing lube on to her anus. My own sphincter twitched as I saw him slowly slip his finger inside her and rotate it.

As I watched he pulled the woman up on to her knees and spanked her hard a few times before bending her body back over so her arse was pointed even higher. He mounted her slowly and entered her tight, but ready and willing bud. Starting off gently he started to pump into her, gradually picking up momentum as her lubed up backdoor slowly opened to accommodate his throbbing cock. As he thrust into her harder and harder, he shouted at her telling to play with her clit. She did so and her roars of pleasure gradually started to turn me on.

As the man relentlessly sodomized his partner I wondered how any anus could take such a shafting and not split. My concern for the woman’s well being was forgotten as I heard her bellows of joy reached a crescendo of orgasm, followed by her partner’s noisy climax.

They collapsed on the bed together into a sweaty heap and that’s where the film finished. Repelled but fascinated I restarted it and couldn’t stop my hand from straying into my panties as I watched the whole thing again and again, as I wondered who had filmed the events. A while later I came as noisily as the couple I had been watching.

In the days that followed I watched some other anal sex clips and masturbated – carefully deleting the evidence on the computer in case Brian or the kids found it. I was wondering where all this was going to go next until one day the following week as we were shutting up shop, Sally asked me how things were at home.

“OK,” I said “But I am still worried seks filmi izle about Brian. She’s not been in contact with him again, I can tell. He’s different somehow. But it’s only a matter of time before he starts putting himself out online again — and sooner or later he’s going to find another ready and waiting butthole to stick it in. I probably won’t find out until the deed is done, if at all! The thought of him having vaginal sex with someone else is bad enough, but I can’t hack the thought that he’ll stick it up someone else’s arse!”

Then I went on to tell her about the sites I had been looking at, and what I’d been doing while I’d watched some of the videos. Sally gave me an astonished look and laughed saying, “I’d like to see some of these films, so why don’t you drop round tonight — my other half is out.”

Later when I turned up with a bottle of wine she had her laptop on and I could tell that she had already been watching the videos. As we began viewing some of them together I told her how afraid and revolted I was by the idea of having anything go into my anus, but how I couldn’t help masturbating when watching other women getting their arses fucked.

“You just need to take it slow,” replied Sally. “Just let Brian put his lubed finger in a little way and build up from there. Once you have trust between you it’ll all come naturally. That’s what Pete and I did when we first tried it. But of course I insist he takes it up his own arse occasionally just so he knows what it’s like — that’s the deal.”

Nothing could have prepared me for this last statement and I looked at my friend with amazement. I was too shocked to feel sick or disgusted — I know very well what people get up in private but I couldn’t imagine butch Pete allowing any sort of anal intrusion.

The conversation was about to go to rock bottom.

“You know what a strap on is don’t you?”

I did but I just couldn’t take in what Sally had told me about her bedroom activities with Pete.

“You do that to your husband — and he lets you?” I whispered.

Sally smirked and winked to answer my question.

Then she asked the million dollar question.

“If you want to get accustomed to having your arse fucked, then maybe you could get used to me doing it with a strap on to break you in gently. I can go as slowly as you want and we can do it a bit at a time at your pace. There’s no rush.”

As I got up to get my coat, she said “Oh don’t be so stupid, there’s nothing wrong with my suggestion. You’ve got a problem. I’m helping you solve it, just mates helping each other out. I’m won’t be getting off on this — honest. I just want to offer a bit of constructive advice and help because I’m your friend. A bit of marital therapy… now sit yourself back down and have another drink and let’s see if we can find a strap on you like on one of the website that specialises in such things.”

Reluctantly I sat down and looked at the results of Sally’s google search.

“So how about we get this one?” She said as she pointed at what appeared to be black leather briefs with a pink cock and balls attached to them.

“Behave yourself,” I whispered. My head reeled as she clicked on dildos of all sizes asking which one I’d like – saying she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Finally she picked a shiny, purple dildo attached to tight leopard skin briefs. Saying that she was buying me an early birthday present Sally put in her credit card details to pay for it.

I drove home and could feel my rectal passage trembling with fear as images of strap ons and dildos haunted me. But as the week progressed began to think Sally had been winding me up and that I was off the hook. She certainly said nothing at work.

The following weekend when I was out with Brian, I noticed him looking with longing at the receding pert, backside of a young woman as she walked past. I knew then this desire of his wouldn’t go away and sooner or later he would find an anus with an owner who didn’t share my inhibitions. So when I next saw Sally at work, I asked if the strap on she had ordered had arrived.

“Sure,” she replied. “I just didn’t want to put you under pressure. “You’re just in time ‘cos Pete’s seen it and I think he was hoping it was meant for him. So when do you want to come over? How about at the weekend when the guys are away on that stag weekend? Can you sort the kids out to sleep over somewhere so you can spend the night?”

I assured her this would be no problem. Then I waited for the weekend with a mixture of dread, and something else which I couldn’t put my finger on — I must confess that I was a little bit excited at what we had planned.

The much anticipated Saturday evening arrived. Now that I knew what my husband was capable of, I was worried as I kissed him goodbye before he left for his stag weekend. But I had more immediate concerns and as I showered and got ready, I wondered what on earth I had got myself into. But I trusted Sally and knew she was just trying to help. Of course she wouldn’t be getting off when she thrust her hips forward and slid that strap on dildo between my butt cheeks and started pumping. Would she? She was just a very good friend who would do anything for me.

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