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This story is preceded by two chapters. I didn’t set out to write my autobiography, so if you’ve read them and there are discrepancies, too bad! The basics are the same. I’m Anne Marmos, 35, widowed, and living on my own across the country from where I lived while married. My husband and I were swingers and I probably had more sex in a month than some folks have in a year. All sorts, by the way. But once Ian died, I folded like a cheap sheet and essentially ran from all of that. After a long time without sex (as in years), I came across some thoughts I put down that seemed to be a defense of the old “it ain’t the meat, it’s the motion” sort of thinking we women would offer to our less than well-hung guys. From there I found my sexuality re-emerging, but in a very surprising way. I began craving bigger and bigger things to insert in my newly awakened pussy, so much so that I was alternating between fisting myself and buying larger and larger dildos. The problem was, however, that what I really wanted was to take my attention off doing anything and solely receive.
The “online scene” was new to me after my husband’s death. It didn’t even exist when we were dating; when we were swinging all introductions were personal. So now, having moved across the country and away from my old circle of friends and lovers, I dipped my toe into that new electronic world hoping to find some very specific companionship. I took a chance and posted to a site that seemed to be oriented towards sex — versus “falling in love and finding the perfect other” – and waited. One thing I discovered was that even though I mentioned my location (Fresno, CA) I received responses from all over the world. Did you know that even Canadians are into sex? Who’d have thunk it? At any rate, I sort of pointed to what I was looking for: someone interested in filling my holes with large things, be they organic or otherwise.
Here’s what I posted: “35 year old widow, lives alone in the Fresno area, very experienced with men and women, looking to explore extreme personal satisfaction” was how it came out. I called myself Fistually (and was surprised when no one else had claimed it), took a bunch of selfies and selected a nude for the profile that hid my nipples, hinted at my neatly styled pubic hair and cropped it so my face wasn’t visible. I had some explicit photos that I labeled as private; I figured that that would be the next step if I got something of interest.
A lot of email came from men — or at least, they presented themselves as men. I mean, I would get invited to respond and given permission to their “private” pictures, which primarily consisted of dick pix. And, as it turned out, I recognized more than a few! Not because I’d personally encountered them, but because they were either screen captures or just blatant rip-offs from porn stars! The first giveaway was the image quality — home-made snapshots might show enormous cocks but were inevitably lousy pictures. A really good picture of a big cock couldn’t be done as a selfie. So, most of those posers got ignored or told off. I had a couple of stock responses I could paste into replies — if they took it a step further and replied to those, I gave them access to my private photos. With at least two men, that evolved into a long string of very hot emails. And they have an open invitation, should they ever travel to the US, to look me up and do with me as they please because how they described those things pleased me. I still review those emails from time to time and still masturbate to them.
One woman from my area (Sally) and I are now officially “friends with benefits.” As in, our friendship benefits me because she wants is to stretch my holes to new extremes, and I want her orgasms to be better than ever before.” What gets her off the most is working newer and larger items up into my pussy. She, in turn, gets an audience — me — and an “assistant ” as she takes even bigger things into her amazingly resilient pussy. I’ve now managed a few inches of her monster-like dong — the one that looks like it could actually have been attached to a huge cartoon monster. She, on the other hand, can take the whole thing! It’s amazing to watch, and she loves to show it off to me. The fact that I am happy to provide additional stimulation to her tits and clit might have something to do with that, I suppose. In any case, we now get together regularly and it’s always been both exhausting and amazingly satisfying.
I also found a married couple — Jimmy and Penny — where he is enormously hung and she’s become a size queen looking to convert other women. Like myself. I already wrote about some of my encounters with those folks. Time to move on to some of the other emails and adventures.
As I said, I mostly got dick pics from guys, and most of those didn’t even get me interested in getting wet, let alone lead to moisture in my pussy. Eventually, however, there was one from a woman. Her profile picture took the same approach mobilbahis güvenilir mi as I did — sexy without being x-rated — and it was her writing that drew me in. “Hello, Fistually. First off, I had to write because your profile picture strongly reminds me of a good friend I haven’t seen in years. We used to swing together, then she lost her husband — like you apparently did — and she moved away. In any case, I’m writing because since then I’ve become a fan of solo endeavors. Extreme endeavors, actually. None of the guys I’ve ever met can fill me up as deeply as my toys. I’ve done some fisting and have been looking to do more with the right person. I’m not near you, but I travel to California at least once a month on business and thought we might want to meet. If pictures are important to you, then see if mine are interesting. Love, Diane.”
I was stunned. I knew a Dianne before I moved to Fresno. She was part of the swing clubs we played in. It couldn’t be, could it? When I clicked on the pictures, however, it was very clear that it could and it was! Dianne Nonce, there, naked, her big nipples clamped with alligator clips, her pussy stuffed with a large dildo, and a look of absolute bliss on her face! She and I had not only been part of the same groups, but we had done gang bangs together; we had also “done” each other more than a few times. We were both primarily hetero, but at the same time we dabbled with the bi life. Amazing! Memories that I had suppressed for a few years came back, and I found myself in tears as I remembered life before the move.
I had to write back. “Hello, Dianne. It was no accident that my profile picture brought back memories. Because it’s of a body you had gotten to know fairly intimately at one point. Yes, it’s me, Anne. And yes, things have changed for me. Probably for everyone, I guess. I’ve been living here for three years now, alone. I’m still not ready for men in my life, but I’ve recently rediscovered a sex drive, and now have begun to pursue it. Very recently, as a matter of fact! So yes, we ought to meet the next time you come to California. We can catch up. Compare notes. Fill each other in. Whatever comes of two old friends (and lovers) getting together. I have a guest bedroom; come stay here and save on hotels! Oh yes, I’ve given you permission to view my private pictures. Perhaps when you are here we can expand that library. Let me know if you’re interested. Love, Anne.”
Since it was close to midnight and she was back east, I hit reply, turned off the computer and the lights and went to sleep. If I recall correctly, I had my first sex dream
“Anne, it IS you! We all have been wondering what happened — you left without saying anything to anyone. I’m definitely going to want to hear more about that. Until then, I won’t say a word to anyone. Now, as for what you are into, well, I completely understand. I think it’s kinda funny how you used to be a champion of the average guy, and now you’ve apparently discovered the exquisite sensations of extreme insertion. I got into it a few years ago — after you left — and I’ve been through all kinds of changes about it. I even saw a therapist about it, and that’s where I finally realized that I was worried what others might think — and how ridiculous that was. The only way someone would find out had to involve sex, and if they took it badly that’s their issue. Not mine! I belong to a small group of women and a few men who practice extremes. We have videos — they just aren’t public. I’ll ask and see if anyone has a problem with my sharing them with you. In the meantime, I’ll be out there in three weeks; I have a Tuesday morning meeting, and could come as early as Friday night if that works for you. We have lots to catch up on and explore. Here’s my cell phone number — feel free to call! I’m so happy to find you again! Love, Dianne.”
Wow. One of the things that came from her response was that my pussy had gone from moist to swampy — I was essentially dripping! I immediately got out my Magic Wand and applied it to my clit, coming almost immediately! Then, at least partially satisfied, I went to my toy shelf and grabbed my largest dildo. Pressing the suction cup to the floor to secure it, I was quickly kneeling above it and — without lube, for crying out loud — sinking down on it and loving the way it was spreading me apart. My eyes closed, I remembered how Dianne and I had often sixty-nined in front of our friends. I pressed the bulb of the vibrator back on my clit and starting coming again. Each jerk of my hips drove that dildo deeper and deeper until I had all ten fat inches up inside me. I kept going until I simply couldn’t take any more. I turned off the wand, broke the suction to the dildo and lay back, reveling in the sensations.
When I came to and could stand up, I took a quick shower and figured it was time to call her. I sat in bed, propped up, my phone arranged to show all of my face and mobilbahis as far down as the tops of my boobs. If we went to Face Time, I would be able to show more. If not, well, too bad. She picked up on the third ring. “Anne? Is it really you?”
I was so tempted to reply with one of my snappy comebacks (reading Mad magazine, I was addicted to the late Al Jaffee’s “snappy answers to stupid questions”) but caught myself in time. “Hi, Dianne, it’s so amazing to talk with you again. And even more amazing to find out that we’ve both begun to find a common ground of sorts. How are you?”
“Naked” she replied. “Oh, you mean something like how am I doing, right? I mean, I am naked, but you’ll just have to use your imagination — or your memory.”
“Are you on an iPhone?” I asked.
“You are in for a treat.” I hung up, and then dialed back with the Face Time app.
“Oh, I completely forgot about Face Time. Silly me! Well, now you can see I’m naked. Are you?”
“What you see is what you are going to get” I said, adjusting the camera to show everything from the knees up. “A couple of more pounds than you might remember, and definitely an expanded capacity pussy, but it should be a bit familiar, right?”
“As should all this! I’ve not added weight, but I spent some money on implants, so instead of those tiny tits I used to have, these now have more than earned back the cost in the attention they win me. What do you think?”
“Well, first, off, I think anything I say should be taken with a grain of salt. Nothing replaces a hands-on evaluation. Having said that, however, they look enormous! Does your back hurt? Any negatives to them? Beyond that, though, I bet you have to bat away admirers when you display them. Am I right?”
“Oh yes you are. But after years of losing out to other women who have bigger tits and can show them, I really do love the attention. I haven’t paid for more than one drink a night ever since I’ve had them. Funny, it’s often the women who are at least more verbal about their interests in them than men.”
“Come on, you of all my friends should now that most men are really little boys in big bodies and like Raj on early episodes of “Big Bang Theory” — unable to talk around any woman! Anyway, what I can say about them is good for you, and I can’t wait to meet them in person!” We both laughed. “Anything else I should pay special attention to?” I asked.
“Without turning this call into a porn video, no, I don’t think so. I noticed you’ve gone hairless — don’t you love it?”
“Not the initial balding — that hurt like a mother fucker!! But now I love it! Anyway, we want to get set for your visit. I have an extremely naughty question for you — what’s the biggest dildo you have in your collection? I want to make sure I’ve got enough to make you happy!”
She proceeded to take me on a video tour to another room — it was one I remembered from back east, but it had changed some over time. It was her “special” bedroom — big enough to host four couples. There was a big bed. A couch. A swing — that was new.
“Hey, Dianne, give me a tour of the room, would you? You’ve added things since I was last there.”
“Yeah, I guess I have. Okay, I’ll flip the camera. What you see on this wall is some bondage stuff. Manacles and shackles. Don’t use them much anymore, but they do occasionally add some fun. Then there’s the padded bench — I upgraded it a bit. This one has cutouts for boobs, rather than flattening them. It still the best spot to pull a train. Over here, on the floor, is my Sybian. Do you have one?”
“No, I’ve heard about them — is it worth buying one?”
“Hell yes! Someone designed it for a woman’s ultimate pleasure. With the right attachments I can DP myself AND get my clit vibrating as good as anything. And you know what? It’s even more amazing to watch someone try that for the first time! I have some videos. I’ll bring them along.”
“I’d like that — anyone I know?” I asked.
“Perhaps, but you’ll have to tell me when you see. I do remember you had an exhibitionist side — maybe I can bring the whole thing and film your first time! Anyway, over in this area are the things that have been my most recent acquisitions.” The camera panned over a wide range of butt plugs, vibrators and dildos. I now had more than a few of the same ones — but not all — and said so.
“Where do you get them?” she asked. When I told her that I used the vendors on Literotica, she nodded. “Not bad, but the problem I had was that their pictures didn’t always accurately portray the items. I changed from online to in-person and I’m much happier.”
“Where do you go? That adult bookstore in Paramus?” I asked.
“Oh hell no. First off, that closed a while ago. But more importantly, sex toys aren’t relegated to the sleazy side of town any more. Women’s rights, and all that. So there’s a very nice store in town, for women and run by women. And they mobilbahis giriş have a staff that spans the gamut of interests and experience. It’s how I met at least one of my fisting friends, and, now that I think of it, most of the other ones are connected to that store in one way or another. Don’t you have one like that?”
“You know, I’m not sure. Never gave it a thought. If there isn’t one in Fresno, I’m pretty sure I can find one in Sacramento — if not, I’d be willing to bet anything I could find one in San Francisco. I’ve been looking for an excuse to go there! How do you think I can find it?”
“Heck, that’s easy if you are going there. Did you ever hear of “Good Vibrations?” Not the Beach Boys song — the store. A woman started it in the 70’s. When I come to visit, we could go together — I’ve always wanted to! But if you want to go sooner, by all means! Or just Google adult sex toys. Better yet, Google “adult sex toy stores near me.” When I decided that nothing replaced in-person shopping for things I wanted to put in my body, that’s how I did it. Ruled out the first two that were listed, liked the third one and loved the fourth one. That’s now my go-to location. Reminds me, I better pay them a visit before I come out there. Gotta have a housewarming gift for you, right?”
“No, you don’t need to do that! You being here will be more than enough! Anyway, what else do you have in your collection?” I took a good look at what she had, and figured I could improve mine and make her comfortable. We arranged to meet at the airport when she flew in, and while I was beginning to think about turning it into a sex call, but she had to get ready for a meeting. So we hung up, and I moved to my laptop. A quick search showed five or six places, so printed out a list, threw on a t-shirt and shorts and left to shop.
When I located the first listing, I paused in the parking lot and wasn’t impressed. But I parked and went in. It was like stepping into a very dark room and it took my eyes time to adjust. As they did, I knew I wasn’t staying. There were no women there, it smelled like something I couldn’t define, and had more videos that toys. As the kid behind the counter was asking if he could help me, I turned on my heel and left. I wonder if I disappointed anyone.
My next stop, however, was a significant improvement. In a bigger mall, it appeared to be relatively well-lit from outside. When I entered, it was neat, clean and airy. And there were women there, both behind the counters and browsing the aisles. One of the women said she’d be right with me, and told me to look around. There were glass enclosed cases ringing the room, as well as a central shopping island. Books and magazines were on display, as were lots of DVD videos. As I moved to one of the glass cases I saw a wide variety of things — some of which I couldn’t fathom!
“Hi, I’m Hillary. How can I help you?” Hilary appeared to be in her thirties, short brown hair, pierced ears some tattoos on her arms. She had on a sleeveless blouse, mostly unbuttoned and displaying significant cleavage. “Is this your first time here?” she asked.
“Yes” I replied. “I’m Anne. At a friend’s recommendation I decided to stop shopping online and adopt a more hands on approach to purchasing new toys. Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely! That’s how I came here the first time. Too many toys sounded great in their descriptions but didn’t measure up when the brown box was opened. Eventually I decided that working here made even more sense. So, what is it you are looking for? And by the way, in case you’re nervous, or embarrassed, I understand. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell other people about your sexual preferences. We are raised to think that’s all secret stuff, and if you do anything your parents never taught you it must be dirty and weird. Well, Anne, if you’re able, tell me what you are looking for. If you want the conversation to be a little more private, we have consultation rooms in the back.”
“I think I can manage to let you know what I’m looking for, although I’m not sure. I’m looking for size. Big sized toys. Toys that will really stretch me. And I’ve seen some that look like they were cut off from dragons and beasts. Does that communicate?”
“Oh, yes it does. But I tell you what — Joanne is really our expert in that area, and I think you would be better off dealing with her. Is that all right?”
“Won’t that hurt your commission?” I asked.
“We don’t work on commission. We are all owners here and work out money from sales as a group. I won’t suffer, and she won’t necessarily gain. Let me get her” she said as she walked away, returning in a minute with an older woman who she introduced as Joanne.
“Okay, Anne, let’s see what we can do. I’ve experienced every item I’m going to show you. I’ll be honest with you — they are all more satisfying than most of the men I’ve ever fucked! Some more than others, I might add. Question for you: have you fisted?”
I looked her in the eye and nodded. I think I also blushed red as a beet, but so what?
“Good for you! Are you at all interested in meeting up with like-minded folks? I have a fairly large circle of friends who are also so-inclined, and we like having new members.”
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