I married my high school sweetheart. Bill came from what I would call a "old-fashioned traditional" family, and by that, I mean, his mom never worked outside the home and they went to church every Sunday. She cleaned, cooked, had babies and raised kids until they were empty-nesters, the normal suburban household of the 60s and 70s.

My husband finished college when I was a freshman, and we got married right after his graduation. I didn't get much exposure to campus life. I always felt a little cheated that I married Bill so early, but I was young, naïve and in love, if I even knew what that meant at the time.

I think he asked me to marry him because several other guys had asked me out even though they knew I was with Bill. During my senior year of HS, my body metamorphosed into that of a "real" woman. I got a nice pair of boobs and an hourglass figure. I really didn't know how to act with this new me. Bill called me his butterfly. I guess I had been a caterpillar before.

Bill got a sales job with a big company in a beautiful college town in an adjoining state. We bought a three-bedroom house right off, which was too big for us, but we could grow into it when the kids started coming. At least, that was the plan. To be honest, it was more than we could afford.

Bill didn't want me to work, but I got into Mary Kay for a while to earn some extra money. Practically, the only sales I made were mine, so I could learn how to put makeup on. Bill thought I looked like a hussy all painted up.

He'd grown up with his mom looking perfect. His expectation was that I and his kids were going to be that way, too. A skirt and blouse or a dress were always the uniform of the day, absolutely no pants. He said I looked more lady-like. That meant I looked like his mom. At least, he didn't have me wear a June Cleaver pearl necklace.

In his sales job, Bill was gone a lot. In fact, he was mostly only home on weekends, then on Monday he'd fly off to another city to sell his company's products and services. Even with his commissions, we were having trouble making ends meet. I reluctantly suggested that we rent out one of our bedrooms to a college student to help with the shortfall.

We advertised in the local paper and on the campus blog. There were several people that looked like good applicants. I thought Tom was the best person and Bill wanted Laura. Laura was a beautiful, sexy looking blonde. I told Bill that she was too pretty to be our renter. It was a big argument, but Bill decided to rent our room to Tom just to keep the peace.

Tom moved in just before classes started. He was in a fraternity. We had written down some rules to make sure we didn't end up being a frat party house, having a toga party or some kind of orgy there. You know what you hear about fraternities nowadays.

Things were going great. Tom was kind of handsome, a good conversationalist and smart. He'd go off to classes most of the days around 9 AM and come back about 3 PM, sometimes much later.

I did my normal cleaning, laundry, some yard work, and marketing. All my expected duties. Friday afternoon, Bill would arrive and he'd expect to have sex with a smile when he got home. 

He grew up in a household of all men except for his mom, so he had no idea about womanly things. I suspect that his parents never talked to him about sex because it was always missionary until he finished, then it was, "What's for dinner, Hon?"

Married life wasn't at all what I thought it'd be.

One Monday, Bill was off to his next sales appointments for the week; Tom was off to classes and I was cleaning the house from the weekend. I went into Tom's room to tidy up a bit. I saw several men's magazines. You know the kind I'm talking about - the ones with naked women showing everything.

As I stacked them up on the nightstand, one flipped open to a dog-eared page. It was a story. I read it and I got a little tingle between my legs. In fact, I spent most of the morning reading all the stories in that edition. I don't masturbate, so I worked in the yard to relieve the anxiety that those stories had incited.

The next day, I noticed Tom had left another of his magazines on the bed, so I picked it up and moved it to the nightstand. I was curious and opened the magazine to another dog-eared page. I read that story, then proceeded to read all the rest of the stories, too. I felt that feeling creep over me again. I knew that I shouldn't be reading this stuff called erotica, but.... I spent the rest of the morning working in the flowerbeds.

I began to wonder if these stories had any semblance of truth. They all seemed too implausible to me. People just didn't act that way, none of the people I knew anyway.

It seemed that every day Tom would leave a magazine on his bed. I would open it, read all the stories, then put it on the nightstand. My flowerbeds were the prettiest in the neighborhood.

After about two weeks of this, Tom came home unexpectedly while I was reading. When he walked in, I must've turned the color of a firetruck.

He said, "Whatcha reading?"

I stammered, "I'm sorry. I was just tidying up and started to read this story."

He saw that it was a dog-eared one and peeked over my shoulder, saying, "That's a good one." He had this funny smirk on his face.

"These can't be real," I exclaimed.

"No, believe me, they're real alright."

Replying in a dismissive tone, "How do you know?"

"This stuff happens on campus all the time. You wouldn't believe some of the crazy shit that goes on down there. Let me read you another good one," he said as he sat on the bed next to me.

He ended up reading me all the stories from that magazine. I could feel the heat from his leg next to mine while he read those nasty stories. I couldn't help but squirm. Afterward, I went outside to work in my flowerbeds.

The next day he came home about the same time and said, "Come into my room and I'll read you some more stories."

I didn't want to, but I found myself sitting next to Tom with his leg pressed against mine while he read those dirty stories. We did this every day except for the weekend.

The next Monday, Tom was reading a story and he put the magazine across my legs and rested his hand on the crease between them as he read. It was a little thing, but it was electric. I'd never felt like that before. Just the thought of his hand resting there caused me to tingle.

As he continued to read, my legs spread just a little bit when I wiggled around and his hand dropped between my thighs. Oh my, his fingers moved and I got goosebumps. I couldn't believe what I did next. I spread my legs a little further. I don't know what had gotten into me to be so forward.

He noticed and his fingers stroked my thigh. He stammered a little as he read. It must have been some invisible force, but my legs kept spreading further and further apart while his hand moved higher and higher.

He continued to read until, finally at the climax in the story, I felt his finger slip across the fabric of my panties. I went into a trance; my eyes closed; I think I moaned. I felt Tom's lips kissing me as we fell back on to his bed. His tongue darted into my mouth and danced. I moaned louder. His hand was rubbing my lady parts. I let out a muffled moan into his mouth.

He put my hand on this big bulge in his pants. I could tell instantly that he was much bigger than my husband. He pulled my skirt up and my panties down. When he dropped his pants, I saw it for the first time - the most beautiful, big penis in the world. He was twice the size of Bill.

"Tom, your penis is so big!"

"It's not a penis. It's a cock. Say it! Go ahead... say it!"

"Your... cock... is so big."

"Let's see if it fits."

I felt its head press against my opening and began to slip in. Fuck, excuse me, shoot, it was the most wonderful feeling I'd ever experienced up to that point. I came after the first stroke and a couple more times before he flooded me with his seed. I thought he was done once he shot his load. Bill would have been.

Tom spread my legs, saying, "Now, for the best part, you'll love this," as he disappeared between my legs. I felt kisses on my thigh and tongue slurps until he got to my lady parts. Oh my god, I don't know what he was doing down there, but it felt even better than his big... cock... in my whoo-ha. I came harder than I ever had in my life. Oh my goodness, that was the best thing ever. Bill never had done anything like that for me.

Needless to say, we began "fucking every day" (Tom's words, not mine), but the best part was when he dropped between my legs. I don't know what his tongue was doing, but it was magical. I always had my best orgasms when he did that. We slept together whenever my husband was out of town until Tom asked for a favor.