I published a piece entitled “Sexual Awakening” which was the second “chapter” in the series “My Sexual Odyssey.” Within these pages I am recounting my multi-decade journey to live out, deal with, and confront my sexual fantasies, desires, and curiosities. This story is the first chapter.

I grew up with about as vanilla a public persona imaginable, but inside smoldered a very curious sexual creature. I tended to read adult-level non-fiction at an early age which led me to scholarly works which introduced me to sex (books like The Naked Ape).

Despite the dry, academic prose (penis, vagina; no cocks or pussies), these narratives aroused me sexually (children have vivid imaginations) and I began to masturbate (though I cannot remember at what age I started) thanks to the most improbable stimulants (of course, the occasional National Geographic with photos of topless natives were a welcome visual aid).

I moved on to Penthouse and Playboy magazines in my early teens, busing into New York City from the suburbs to buy them. I liked the photos in both, but Penthouse was the winner (but I still enjoyed Playboy, even reading the articles, interviews, and stories. My folks were okay with me having a Playboy subscription from my junior year in high school.).

The combination of the Penthouse “Forum” letters and the magazine’s photo spreads (it was “soft” core then, but I could see pubic hair and breasts of women posing provocatively) were my go-to masturbatory aids. I branched into nineteenth century erotic literary works like My Secret Life, The Pearl and The Romance of Lust (all by the incredibly horny and lucky Anonymous), which continued to do the trick in helping me to cum (and I discovered I loved to jerk off to the written word as often as possible, imagining experiencing the activities in the books and letters).

The stories were beyond belief, just like the “Forum” adventures, but I had a great imagination and raging hormones. Alone in my bedroom two floors away from parents and siblings, I would work my cock tirelessly every evening and morning, going through box after box of tissues (it helped to have allergies as my “cover” for using so many). I loved looking at women’s bodies, imaging getting lucky like those who wrote the Forum letters, while I wanked away.

Of course, like all red-blooded teenage males, live women and girls turned me on, drove me crazy, and none more so than my aunt Celia (and subsequently her daughter Eve, though that was a few years later).

Celia had a great body, the perfect hourglass shape (in my teen mind). I do not know what her bra size was, but I would guess somewhere in the 35-38 full C range with a narrow waist and hips on par with her chest. And she kept me guessing and wondering about those measurements for years, dressing very provocatively for a thirty-something woman (she could sure fill a bikini).

I dreamt of her body, what it would look like without those clothes; what it would taste like (already developing an interest in oral sex) and what it would feel like to fuck (my readings inspired my imagination).

Sadly, nothing ever became of these fantasies (which grew to include Eve as she developed a body just like her mother’s), though I still have them to this day.

And I kept this all to myself. I never really discussed sex with friends or family; no circle jerks, no fooling around with anyone, no sharing my “dirty” collection. I was never caught by a parent, friend, or relative masturbating (though that would change, as I describe in later chapters).

I was painfully shy and lacked self-confidence where girls were concerned when it came to dating and relationships (despite having many female friends, some close, many of whom drove me crazy with lustful thoughts). I eventually had a couple of girlfriends in high school but got no further than heavy petting (how is that for an ancient term?), though my thoughts always went much further!

Things began changing after I began dating (as a high school senior) the woman who would eventually become my wife (three years younger than me yet had more boyfriends, but not a lot more sexual experience). We dated for my last year of high school and then through college (I went to a school in the Midwest while she remained in the East).

I stayed celibate, true to my love, a no brainer at the time for me, but, in retrospect, a mistake. (The opportunities were there; I just ignored them or, when I decided it might be time to stray and sample, waited too long to act. I was still shy, lacking self confidence in this area and a bad judge of a woman’s intentions.)

The seven-year courtship (yes, we finally lost our cherries—again an old term—to each other when she was sixteen, me nineteen) resulted in marriage which has endured and, along with my family, is the most important thing in my life. Our sex life has been wonderful and, simultaneously, frustrating.

My wife suffers even greater insecurity issues than me (Italian Catholic—she is first generation—upbringing). When she can clear her mind of extraneous thoughts, she loves fucking and will get into it—and specifically uses that term, not “love making.” She wants me to fuck her and, usually, fuck her hard. When she is really relaxed and horny, her vibrator and porn, as well as my playing with her sensitive nipples, bring on incredible, intense orgasms.

She got into Penthouse letters/photos (thanks to me) when using her vibrator early in the marriage. We bought the vibrator during a shopping trip to Greenwich Village specifically to buy one. (Her openness brought her to the store, yet at other times she will not discuss sex with me; frustrating and confusing.)

We visited the Pink Pussy Cat Boutique together, the first visit to an adult toy store for either of us. We looked at the dildos, butt plugs, BDSM gear, lingerie, videos and, of course, vibrators. The one she chose was industrial looking – large and needed to be plugged into an outlet to operate. It did the trick; despite trying numerous other designs during the next four decades, she returns to this one (replaced twice after wearing the earlier ones out) for her loud, shaking orgasms.

From Penthouse we moved to VHS porn video tapes in the bedroom, then DVDs and now the computer, all a part of these vibrator sessions.

Unfortunately, sometimes the vibrator sessions took a long time, frustrating her (though when she did cum, it was amazing!). I tried doing anything to help her get over her anxiety or improve her ability to cum. She likes using a vibrator – I researched (and continue to do so) vibrators and bought her anything which seemed like it might help.

I have also bought many types of videos for her enjoyment (I enjoy them as well, of course, but these are aimed at her getting off, not me). The porn she gets off on has shifted as we have aged.

It was originally straight porn, classics like Bad Girls, Taboo, Annette Haven, Seka flicks, stuff from the seventies and eighties, and then she started finding BDSM scenes more alluring. And she wants these to be woman-on-woman movies and videos; she isn’t interested in watching a man have his cock sucked or a woman being fucked.

A quick reference to now: we fuck two to three times a week (sometimes more) and she enjoys it, cumming from my cock in her pussy -- but not as intense as with the vibrator (we are in our sixties). The vibrator sessions are a few times a month and very intense – and generally she cums quicker today than in the past (which leads to more sessions, but still not frequent). She also insists I cum at other times by masturbating, which is something I love to do (I still love a broad spectrum of sexual activities.)

After she cums with the vibrator, she immediately wants me to fuck her. She wants my cock in her pussy right away and if I am not hard enough, she wants two or three fingers frigging her to another orgasm. And she is loud with each one, especially the vibrator induced ones!

She is the most important person in my life, has been for fifty years and I would never do anything to hurt my marriage.

We’ve had our difficulties, and the marriage almost came crashing down a decade or so ago when she told me about an affair from the eighties (we were married without children at that time) which had resurfaced through emails and phone calls early this century, though without any physical contact.

I did not want to lose her, and we went through months of emotional upheaval; therapy; Zoloft (for me, which negatively impacted my sexual capabilities); major weight loss and some of the most incredible sex of our lives—part of it related to her weight loss (both of us were not eating well during this period) because she liked how she looked and felt more confident (and was the only period when she regularly let me eat her pussy, my favorite sexual activity).

The night she told me the entire story of the affair (I knew for five months or so something was up and was already on the verge of an emotional breakdown) resulted in me not sleeping for thirty-eight or so hours; several unbelievable rounds of sex and the beginning of several years of mental and emotional hell (for me).

As we worked through our relationship during the next several months, she was deciding with whom she would live – stay or go. This included a long weekend visiting him via a plane trip (first physical contact with him in almost 20 years). She slept with him throughout and recounted it when she returned.

She eventually decided her family meant more to her, and she stayed. Through many lengthy, gut-wrenching conversations, we both agreed lack of experience with the opposite sex prior to marriage was a mistake which put us in this position as well as her lover being the opposite of me, a bit of a “bad-boy” type. Raising two children while I did a lot of business traveling in the nineties and early two-thousands did not help matters (and our poor communication during this period added to this).

I agreed to her having a reunion with her lover, which meant a plane trip and weekend away (we were empty nesters at this point in our lives). The reunion went very well – for her; not so much for me.

She told me all about it, including details of their fucking (including the story of a shower curtain and rod being pulled down in the motel bathroom at one point in the activity), which did nothing for my psyche (although, like when she first revealed her infidelity, caused a massive erection for me and grunting, panting fucking for us).

She felt guilty about sleeping with the lover during their reunion and – under the impression she was the only woman I had ever fucked—urged, demanded, I get some variety in my sex life. I already had the sexual variety she was pushing, having started on my path decades earlier. But unlike her, there was no emotional aspect to it; no threat to family life and I had been careful to keep it separate from my “regular” life.

My wife was adamant that I find an escort on my next business trip to experience the variety she had already experienced. So, we did! I used TheEroticReview.com, an Internet marketplace which provides detailed escort information, including reviews. Going through this exercise with my wife was incredibly stimulating, of course leading to a mind-blowing fuck session.

The woman we chose came to my Seattle-area hotel room; we met, we fucked, but it was not great. After discussing the encounter in detail with my wife the next morning, she urged me to try again, so we chose another woman, and the results were great!

She was my height, about five feet, seven inches, thin with huge tits (actually, a bit too big for my tastes) and a wonderful personality which made all the difference in the world. She came through my hotel-room door, put down her bag and leaned in with an incredible, passionate kiss. As she broke from the lip lock, she dropped to her knees, pulled down my shorts, freeing my rigid cock, which was quickly engulfed by the lips which had just been crushing mine.

The blow job was wonderful; she drained me in no time. A few seconds to recover and my clothes came off and then hers. Onto the bed we flopped; my hands and mouth went to work exploring this incredible woman.

The rest of the two hours went quickly as we fucked in numerous positions. The highlight was eating her moist pussy and experiencing my first “squirter.” She drenched my face, my beard and much of the bed in a body-shaking orgasm. A wonderful night, one repeated on several return occasions to the Seattle area during the next few years.

What my wife did not know, this was not the second or even third woman I had fucked, nor was it my first and second escort.

As I said, I had a strong sex drive and curiosity from a young age, and since the mid-1980s had been living a dual life, exploring my sexual desires with extreme discretion (again, it was sexual answers I was looking for, not ending my marriage or changing my familial relationship), primarily through my business travel (my wife knows I jerk off and use porn whenever I travel and is fine with it).

During this sojourn, I have experienced most of my fantasies and many things I never would have considered (often suggested by the woman I was with at the time). I am willing to try anything once (but draw the line at children, major pain, or anything which will hurt others or compromise my family).

I discovered I love public sex, group sex, phone sex (not with a phone-sex operator, but other amateurs enjoying erotic conversation on chat lines), masturbation, oral sex (especially giving!!!) and sex clubs. There are some things I have not experienced yet but remain hopeful: a night with a beautiful trans shemale (a gorgeous woman with a nice cock) and a bi experience in a MFM situation.

It is this four-decade journey I am recounting in these pages. I remain in my late sixties,  horny all the time (even if my cock does not always respond the way I want it to) and still pursuing my sexual odyssey when possible. I love websites like LushStories, Xpurity, xnxx, Fetlife and iTaboo (a site not as sophisticated as Lush or Fet, but raunchier).

I am always on the lookout for more sites like these – I’m looking for interpersonal material, not simply great photos and videos (though they are a plus) and recently discovered UtopiaGuide.com. I am fascinated by the adult entertainment industry (love strip clubs and those I have experienced both alone and with others) and I cannot seem to get enough porn (for a while I was into incest-themed, though I have no personal experience and no desires at home.

As mentioned, I had lusted after my aunt [by marriage] from my teen years who had a great body, dressed to show it off [especially bikinis] and her daughter [first cousin, about eight years younger than me] with the same kind of body. Oh yeah, they provided a lot of jerk-off moments for my active imagination at the time. Lately vintage, seventies and eighties porn, generally shot on film, is helping me get off. The films of Kay Parker, Aunt Peg, Honey Wilder and Seka amongst others; the first porn I had ever experienced.