My name is Diana. My husband has just dropped me off outside the house of somebody we have been conversing with in a chatroom. I’m here with my husband's full permission to let this virtual stranger fuck me for the evening before my husband collects me later on. I have to admit that I’m hugely turned on. I have butterflies, and my knickers are already damp. I suppose I should tell you how I found myself in this situation.

I would not describe my earlier self as easy; that would be misleading. I would probably say that I was a sure thing, at least when I had decided I was looking for fun. I grew up in a strict home; my parents would have freaked out if they had known how promiscuous I had become. By the end of high school, I had discovered the utter joy of sex and actively pursued every opportunity to indulge myself. I was lucky that my early experiences were so positive and pleasurable. Once I started, I knew I never wanted to stop.

Living in a small coastal town that was a popular budget summer holiday spot supplied my first sexually active summer with a stream of eager guys. I would hang out in the arcades, bending over and flashing my knickers and waiting to be picked up. Some days, I would be lucky, and as soon as I was back in the arcade, another guy would pick me up.

I was also lucky not to fall pregnant. Perhaps all the partying had an effect, though I got myself on the pill as soon as I could. I was addicted to sex by the time I went to college; I did wonder if there was something wrong with me. People called me Marge because I spread so easily. I used the name in online dating and when tourists asked for it. I was equally addicted to spunk, cum, jizz, call it what you will. I loved to feel it inside me or to swallow it, or smear it across my pert tits.

At college, I realised that three guys at a time were the magic number: cum up my pussy, cum over my tits, and cum in my mouth or over my face at the same time. A couple of professors introduced me to anal sex, which was uncomfortable at first, but soon it became another thrilling joy. It also meant that I needed four guys at a time, a rare treat but so fulfilling when it happened. By the time I started college, I must have fucked at least thirty or forty guys. By the time I finished college, that number was well over two, maybe even three hundred.

Oddly, in the last six months of college, it started getting harder to hook up with guys and to be fully satisfied. My reputation had spread too far, and guys were becoming wary of the risks of hooking up with me. I was a bareback all-the-way girl, which seemed to put people off. I would visit truck stops and hang out in risky bars, chasing my kicks. I’ve been offered money for sex, but I do it for the fun of it. I did once try and work out how much money I would have made if I had charged everyone; it would have been thousands.

I realised that I had to get out of my small hometown, get away from my reputation, and see more of the world.

Bumping into Jack in the shopping mall changed my life. I’d not seen Jack for ten years; we had been at middle school together. Jack was different from the rest of us, even then. His family had a business out of town and didn’t mix with the rest of us common folk. I recognised him easily, with the same sticking-out ears and unfashionable hair. His clothes looked expensive, very expensive, and he had a confident air about him that was new.

I remember saying hello; it was obvious he did not remember me. We made small talk while he tried to remember anything about me. He told me he was leaving town soon, off to a job with a bank or something in the city. My ears pricked up, hoping Jack might be my ticket out; I hoped he did not know my reputation. I talked him into a coffee; flirting to get my own way came so easily to me. Coffee turned into a date, and before he left for the city, we were an item. I dressed more demurely to meet his family, none of whom remembered me – or knew my reputation.

The sex was pretty dull and unadventurous, but he was keen, and I knew once we got to the city, I could look discreetly for other guys. His firm arranged an apartment, which was a palace compared to anything I had lived in. On a whim, I joked we should get married, and three months later, I was Mrs Jack Power. The money, stability and kudos had reeled me in, and I settled into domestic life with gusto.

For half a year, I was faithful to Jack. If you don’t count the odd delivery man or tradesman, who counts them? Jack did worry about the plumber who came every day for a week to sort a tap in the bathroom. He worried he had forgotten to send his bill, though he had been paid handsomely, in kind, by me already. He came back with his mate, collected a cheque, and they both left a deposit inside me in return.

One night in bed, Jack brought up that old chestnut and asked, ‘How many partners have you had?’ I acted coy and deflected the question back to him. It remained unanswered for a few days, but Jack kept hinting and asking, so I decided to tell the truth. By the truth, I mean a version that would keep him happy. I had been to college; Jack had been away at university, so I took a guess at an acceptable number.

We agreed to write down our answers and exchange the slips of paper. I decided that somewhere between ten and twenty felt safe and chose sixteen, as it was the age at which I started having sex. Jack had written just two partners and admitted one of them was me. He also told me that the other was a very short, failed relationship at university. We didn’t speak about it again for a couple of weeks, though Jack was inspired when fucking me that night.

Jack started to ask what else I had done and what other guys were like, and I started to tell him little things. I was surprised how vigorous his fucking became after – and then even during – my telling him things. One day, I went to use the computer in the home office to find it still logged in as Jack. I was about to log out when curiosity led me to look at his browser history. One browser had all his work stuff, but another was all porn and chat sites. His download folder had a separate folder full of porn clips, too. I was surprised, as Jack didn’t seem to be the type.

The porn was mostly hot wife and cuckold amateur stuff. I watched a few clips and realised that this was why Jack was so enthused by me telling stories about my past. I left the computer as I found it, except for also leaving the porn browser open. I told Jack a few more explicit stories after that, and with each added level of sexual debauchery, he seemed ever more turned on. It became obvious he had fantasies about my prior sexual experiences. Over the following weeks, I would often find the home PC left open at cuckold or hot wife pages.

I finally brought up the elephant in the room and asked Jack outright if he had fantasies of me fucking someone else. He was evasive at first but admitted it was true. We watched some clips together, and then he showed me a chatroom he had been visiting. We chatted with other couples and several guys, eventually arranging a meeting. We chose someone about an hour's drive from home, as Jack was distressed about me meeting someone who knew us. The arrangement was for me to be there for three hours, during which time the guy had free rein to fuck me. The only rules were that sex had to be safe, I could stop any time I wanted, and there was to be no violence or restraint.

Jack had no idea how keen I was to go ahead with the plan. I pretended to be unsure and worried about meeting a stranger. Jack struggled in his mild-mannered way to convince me. I just played along and said I would do it for him.

The front door opened before I reached it, and a guy who matched the photo he had sent greeted me. I turned and waved Jack away and stepped inside. The house was clean and tidy. He was dressed casually and smelt amazing.

“Hello, I’m Charles,” he said awkwardly, holding out his hand. It was not the profile name he had used.

“I’m Diana.” I chose to use my real name, not the fake one we had used online. We shook hands, and he led me into the lounge. I was wearing a sexy little black dress, fitting tightly on my five-foot, six-inch frame. The dress came down to mid-thigh, while the neckline plunged to show the best cleavage my B-cup breasts could muster. He offered me a glass of wine and led me to a sofa. He asked if I was sure about meeting; he was much more nervous than me. I told him that my husband and I were both looking forward to it.

He was having trouble not staring at either my legs or cleavage. I kept shifting in my seat and could feel my skirt slowly rising up my legs. We were facing each other, and I wondered if he could see my knickers yet. I could see a bulge in his trousers. I bent down to slip my heels off, allowing my legs to splay open as I did, before closing them again as if I had not even noticed. Charles kept paying me compliments, saying how sexy I looked. I got the feeling he was treating it like a date.

“Shall we get out of these clothes?” I asked, noticing I had been there for over half an hour already. Charles almost spilt his wine, nodded enthusiastically, and guided me to the stairs. I chose to lead the way, giving him a perfect view of my toned legs and trim bum. The bed was freshly made with clean sheets. I was glad he had made an effort for me. I turned and asked him to unzip my dress, then turned to face him and shimmied it down to the floor. He stared at me, wearing just a skimpy matching knicker and bra set that Jack had bought for the occasion.

Charles seemed frozen until I reached to loosen his belt; he sprang to life and stripped fully in seconds. He had a good body, and his cock, already erect, was as good as the pictures he had sent. I led him the few steps to the bed, and he lay back while I straddled him. I shuffled back to hover my knicker-clad pussy over his face in a sixty-nine position as I took hold of his cock and began to stroke him. Pre-cum was already shining on the tip of his cock as I rolled his foreskin up and down. I licked and tasted him before taking his cock deeply into my mouth.

“Do I need a condom?” I heard him ask in a shaky voice. I felt him reaching towards a bedside table.

“Not yet,” I said before quickly swallowing his delicious cock again.

His hands gripped my pert bum cheeks, and I let him take my weight, hoping he would soon be pulling my knickers to one side. I worked his cock with my hands while bobbing my mouth up and down noisily. I could taste his pre-cum getting stronger and knew he was already close. I lifted clear of his cock and asked, “Can you cum more than once?”

“Yes, yes, I can. I have been saving up ever since we agreed to meet so I can go at least three times.”

That was all I needed to know, and I resumed sucking and wanking him, keeping my mouth closed over his cock the whole time. I could feel him trembling for a few seconds before his cock erupted in my mouth. He came so much; his cock seemed to be pulsing endlessly. I had to pull back and keep just the tip in my mouth to have space for all his cum. As soon as he finished, I swung my leg across him and squatted over his still erect cock. I held his cock up and pushed down against it, only my damp knickers stopping him from entering my soaking pussy.

I smiled down and swirled the cum around in my mouth, savouring the feel and taste. It had been a while since I had my mouth quite so filled, especially from just one guy.

“Do you need a tissue or a glass?”

He thought I wanted to spit it out. I shook my head, looked him in the eye and made an obvious and slow swallow. “No need; I love the taste of cum.”

I leaned forward and kissed him deeply; our tongues wrestled as he tasted his own cum. I could feel his cock stiffen and press harder into my knickers. I knew I had to move, as I would soon lose the self-control to stop him fucking me without a condom. I would gladly fuck him bare, but Jack had been quite insistent on safe sex only, and I did not want to spoil my chances of many more meetings like this. I slowly lifted clear, slipped off of the bed, and peeled off the bra and knickers to stand naked. Charles propped himself on his elbows and drank in the view. I knew I looked good. He started complimenting me again.

I lay on the bed next to him and urged him to enjoy himself. Moments later his face was buried in my pussy; I felt fingers probing and his tongue flickering. I grabbed my tits and squeezed my nipples into erect cones and spread my legs wide. Charles was far better than Jack at pleasuring me, and soon I felt waves of orgasmic bliss washing through me. Charles took the time to let my feelings subside and then build them again to fresh orgasms over and over. I needed to be fucked and told Charles I needed to have him inside me. I knew I would not stop him if he just mounted me without a condom.

Charles moved slowly up the bed and kissed his way up my body, nibbling my nipples as he guided his cock to the entrance of my pussy. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him close; his cock felt great sliding slowly into me. Charles began fucking quite deliberately, grinding our pubic bones together with each thrust. I could feel another orgasm rising and urged him on. I bucked my hips, clawed his back and wrapped my legs tighter around him. Charles sped up as my pussy clamped in waves of orgasm. He lifted his body on straight arms and began fucking faster and faster, staring at my tits oscillating in time with his plunging cock.

“Oh God. Oh yes, yes…yes.” Charles mumbled as he held himself deep.

I wondered how much cum he had squirted inside me, and I didn’t care. We disentangled ourselves after panting hard together while recovering. I was surprised to see Charles’ cock still fully erect as he drew it out of me. I was even more surprised to see he must have slipped a condom on while giving me all of that gorgeous oral attention. The bulb was full of creamy white cum as Charles pulled it free and knotted the end. He was about to toss it towards a bin when I took it from him and dropped it onto my underwear on the floor.

“Just to prove we used one,” I said, though I had thought of a very different use for it.

We sat on the bed for a while and chatted. Charles told me he was divorced and quite sexually frustrated. I could see I had less than an hour left before Jack would be outside to collect me. I was keen to get as much sex as I could and turned onto all fours. I arched my back and offered Charles a view of my very pert ass and pussy. Jack had never liked to fuck me this way, which is sad, as I love it. I turned my head to see Charles rolling another condom on; part of me wished he had not bothered.

I soon felt hands gripping my bum cheeks, and I wondered which target Charles would choose. The answer came as I felt his cock pressed back into my pussy; I hoped he would be more adventurous another time. I urged him on, and soon he was slamming into me as hard and fast as he could. I was rolling my clit between two fingers and had my face buried in the sheets. I was pleased at how long Charles lasted this time. It had been too long since I’d been so thoroughly fucked and satisfied.

I felt his fingers gripping my hips tighter, and his movement became more irregular and jerky before he suddenly stopped. Twisting around, I could see he was sweating and had a very red face. I moved forward, and his softening cock slipped out of me. Turning around, I could see another bubble of cum, and I...