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The story I want to tell is the one that, about ten years ago, transformed my life and that of my husband.
My name is Camilla and, at the time of the events, I was just over fifty years old.
My husband Gennaro, who is five years older than me, I met him when I was twenty-two, at a party at a friend's house.
I was coming out of a stormy relationship that had disappointed me as a woman and, even though I had sworn to myself that I would never fall in love again, I became involved with this self-confident man who appeared to have great charisma.
It was instant passion, and I gave myself to him completely.
We married when I was pregnant and for almost thirty years things went on in a calm daily routine. His son, now grown up, moved to another city and we were left alone.
And we remained alone...and yes, and it was one evening that, sunk on the couch watching a movie on TV, Gennaro, caressing my hand:
"Can I ask you something?" he said to me.
I looked at him puzzled, he didn't usually ask my permission.
"No, nothing serious, nothing, sorry" and resumed watching the movie.
"No, now you have to tell me, you know I wouldn't be able to sleep" like most women I am curious to no end.
And what did he do? First he smiled at me and then he gets up and leaves for the bathroom, to pee.
I followed him and in a really angry tone,
"So? You know you've upset me and my revenge might be...."
"Ok, wait for me in the living room, I'll finish up and join you."
He came back and sat next to me as I hung on his every word:
"You really want to?"
"Would you tell me what you did with the one you were dating before you met me?"
I gasped; there and then I thought he was drunk, then, looking him in the eyes.
"Are you crazy...what's going through your mind?"
"Think about it and then, if you really love me and you feel like it, you can tell me," and he got up and went to his study.
My husband, I know him very well, then he would leave me alone, when I would do what he wished.
But what was driving him to ask me those things? Perhaps he too was suffering from the routine, the habit, the monotony that was taking hold between us?
I stayed there on the couch for about ten minutes, racking my brains, then, determined, I got up and joined him in the study.
"Okay, fine, but first tell me what prompted this request of yours," I said in one breath to my man.
He moved slightly away from the table and from a drawer he pulled out a binder of photographs, the kind that photographers used to give as a gift along with the prints they had made, and handed it to me.
I recognized them immediately, from the first pose; I thought I had lost them and as I continued to flip through them:
"Where did you find them?" I asked.
"They had fallen behind a drawer of the piece of furniture we sent to restore yesterday; they are yours, look at them calmly, I have already viewed them several times."
"Did you retrieve them?" I asked restlessly.
"Don't worry! I've only seen them, if that's what's bothering you. They were in this envelope" and he handed me a yellow paper envelope.
I silently took the envelope and the small album and went back to the living room.

It was a plunge in time of about thirty years.
Corrado, that was the name of my first boyfriend, I met in August at the sea. It was the year of my high school graduation, which I had passed with top marks; I was finally a chartered accountant and in September I would have been able to start my apprenticeship at the office of a distant relative of ours.
As a reward, my mother allowed me to spend ten days with Silvia, my schoolmate and lifelong friend.
Corrado was her cousin, a big dark-haired boy with black eyes that made you melt with one look.
He was older than us, close to graduation, and I immediately fell in love with him.
But the thing that amazed me the most was that he was immediately involved by my personality.
And so, one evening, by the sea, he asked me to become his girlfriend and, without waiting for my answer, he kissed me. I became his girlfriend and they were ten days of perfect happiness for both of us.
He had so many interests: he loved sailing and practiced it almost at a competitive level, with him you were never still. Then he was an expert photographer, with all the necessary equipment to develop the shots and what I had in my hands were about fifteen portraits, in which the model was yours truly.
Except for a couple in bikinis, the rest were in adamitic costume and in rather daring poses.
I was dazed, I had removed those photos from my mind, as well as that period, but now, slowly, many events occurred in those two years resurfaced.
"What should I tell him? - I repeated to myself mentally - I really hope he doesn't want the details! However, knowing him, he would not have been satisfied with a generic story. Then, strange fact, I felt strangely aroused by all that was going on.
"What are you doing not coming to bed?" asked Genny from the doorway of the living room, jolting me.
I didn't answer right away, but before he repeated the question:
"Start up, I'll brush my teeth and join you."
I walked into the bathroom, undressed, and sitting on the toilet spread my legs and noticed that I was all wet. I peed and then sat on the bidet. I ran the warm water between my thighs feeling a great relief.
I reached his room and found him lying in bed, waiting for me. I was wearing a light nightgown with no panties and no bra.
I lay down by his side when he:
"Come here" and put an arm around my shoulders. I curled up on his chest and remained silent, waiting for some decision from him.
He turned to me and kissed me on the lips with a passion I no longer remembered.
I responded to his kiss by opening my mouth and joining my tongue to his.
"I desire you, I crave you, please let's make love" my man sighed and in an instant I lowered his briefs and took his majestically erect cock in my hand.
I pulled away from his lips and went down with my face on his pubes and, first kissing and licking his head, then sliding a good half of it into my mouth, I began a slow and deep blowjob. With one hand on my head, he gave me the rhythm, while with the other he caressed my ass. I felt a finger along the buttocks furrow, lingering for a moment on the little rose, then resumed the straight path.
He reached the vulva and after caressing it along its entire length he pushed his middle finger on the clitoris, thus starting the fireworks in my brain.
He knew well how to drive me crazy and he stopped only when my movements became too messy and dangerous for his member.
I pulled away from him and in one stroke sat, looking him in the face, on his cock.
He entered me all of a sudden, I could feel him in my belly, I was full of him.
Too good to move, I wanted to enjoy him a little longer like this.
He was the one who gave the first thrust from underneath and drawing me to himself, first he nibbled my nipples, then he wanted my mouth to kiss.
I began to fuck him with a slow, but deep rhythm. I would almost let it out completely, then fall back on it.
I could feel the entirety of the cock completely inside, and as I stopped, I enjoyed it to the fullest, then did the reverse route again.
I was in heaven, I felt light, evanescent and, in this state, I felt something inside me that was melting: I had the sensation that I was pissing myself, but it was a thick piss that gushed out of my vagina and with each jet it gave me a delicious spasm inside it.
I slumped down on my husband, while he, almost screaming, spurted warm streams of cum into me.
It had been years since I had enjoyed myself like that! The effect of those photos, the memories and my husband's request? Who knows and, while I was reflecting on these things, Gennaro, looking into my eyes, said:
"You were extraordinary; we enjoyed like it hadn't happened in years; can you tell me what you're thinking about?"
"You're right, every now and then a pinch of transgression is needed, now I'm sleepy, tomorrow I'll rearrange my ideas and tell you all about it" and kissing him I held myself closer to him.

In fact between me and Corrado had created a great understanding and in addition to the photos, which he loved so much, I had given him much more.
I distinctly remembered the first intimate kiss he gave me and my first intimate kiss given to him.
For real, his cock in my mouth was the first time for me, but I had already tried the tongue on his pussy.
It happened just before leaving for vacation. Silvia, my friend, invited me to her house to show me some swimwear.
She, a little chubby, preferred one-piece swimsuits, which highlighted less the belly and wanted to make me try two bikinis, which surely could not have worn.
It was not the first time I stripped in front of her and, even that time, I slipped off the light dress I was wearing and remained in a bra and panties.
"Come on try this on!" she said handing me the costume.
I removed the bra and, as I approached the mirror, I saw my breasts take in the top piece of the costume.
"Let me help you" and, from behind, he tied a knot in the webbing of the garment.
I pulled down my briefs and, first one leg, then the other, entered the bottom piece.
I looked at myself again. It looked really good on me, and turning around, I asked:
"What do you think?"
"You're a knockout," Silvia said to me admiringly, "now, though, lie down on the bed and let's get rid of those horrible little hairs, sticking out sideways.
She left the room and went to the bathroom.
He returned after a couple of minutes with a basin full of hot water, a disposable razor and depilatory strips.
I lay down on her bed, took off my bikini bottom and, as she asked, spread my legs to get shaved.

It took a lot of effort and, feeling her fingers fiddling in that part of my body, already sensitive enough, I closed my eyes, while emitting a deep sigh.
Silvia raised her eyes and, without asking anything else, slipped her finger between the lips of my pussy.
I tried to stop her, but an intense pleasure, was growing in me and I let go, while her hand continued to caress.
It was just a moment, her fingers were now spreading my vagina, when I saw her lower her head and I felt, first her mouth resting on my vulva, and then her tongue darting over my little button.
I don't know how long it lasted, but the pleasure was very intense; I almost felt a pleasant physical pain, I would have made it last forever, but I had to get back to the world, so I turned my head away, slipping from my friend's lips.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," she said with her eyes downcast, and resumed her work, interrupted in that sweet moment of madness.
But was it really madness?
No, not at all, and in the interval between the end with Corrado and the beginning with my husband, she was the only one who really consoled me.
However, with my ex, in those ten days spent at the beach nothing or almost nothing happened: kisses, on the seashore, caresses also quite intimate and only the last evening we pushed ourselves to practice a petting, which he concluded masturbating and coming on my bare little tits.
So far nothing wrong to tell it to Gennaro, but surely he will not be satisfied, so I should tell him about my first blowjob and then I should reveal that the ass had not been the first to violate it.
But perhaps it's best to go in order.
He returned to town a few days after me and we saw each other again almost immediately.
Unfortunately, it was not like the sea, very little freedom and only on Saturday night a minimum of availability, but worse than Cinderella, I had to be home by ten o'clock at night.
Usually, we went dancing at a friend's house and always, before retiring, we apparated in a clearing not far from my house and there we made love.
He wanted to make me his, but I didn't feel ready yet, so we always started with more and more intense kisses and then one Saturday night, in the car. I decided and I took him in my mouth.
It wasn't gross at all, as I had thought until then, and surprising first me and then him too. I started to get pretty good at it.
As I sucked and licked he gently caressed my vagina and waited for me to cum, before pulling out of my mouth and, jerking off, cumming on me.
I took a pleasant pleasure in feeling his warm cream on my tummy, especially when he smeared it with the head of his cock.
But one Saturday night I wanted to take the plunge, and when he was about to pull out I held him back and the squirt came straight down my throat.
A slightly salty, but quite pleasant, taste accompanied me for the rest of the evening. Perhaps what bothered me a little was the consistency of that rather thick cream, which I could hardly spit out completely.
However, it was done and, since that evening, most of the time I remained attached to his cock, until the end.
I had started my apprenticeship at our accountant relative's office and every evening Corrado was waiting for me on the street corner.
"Try to free yourself for a whole afternoon - he asked me one morning - I could have the house free for us."
"When?" I replied back.
"The day after tomorrow my parents are going to Rome, to my sister's."
"Today I'll try to ask the coordinator and tonight I'll tell you, now let me run; it's getting late" and brushing her lips, I ran away.
It was possible and, at four o'clock, instead of going to the office, we escaped to his house.
We crossed the threshold and he held me close to him and, kissing me, began to undress me.
He took me by the hand and half naked, both of us, we lay down on the bed.
The warmth of his body on mine, his hands touching and squeezing and his mouth lapping at my breasts were beginning to have their effect.
He wanted my virgin flower, so he tried to bring me to maximum arousal, but I managed to wriggle out of that embrace and sat down on the bed.
"No, please, I don't want to," and I made the move to get off and run away.
"Wait, don't run away if you don't want to..."
And I lay back down next to him and hugged him tightly thanking him for understanding.
Anyway, after a brief sixty-nine, he turned me over on my stomach and from behind began to play with my little ass.
First his tongue lapped at my anus, then a finger caressed it and finally I put my ass up and offered it to him.
He was very good, from the bedside table he took out a tube of Vaseline and, wetting first the little hole and then his cock, he pointed it at the sphincter and pushed.
I screamed, but I did not stop him: I opened my buttocks with both hands and, facilitated by my gesture, I found him all inside me.
The pain passed almost immediately, now I felt open and full, but I liked it, so I was the one to start that slow undulating movement that he knew how to follow with great passion.
He spurted a very long stream of cum into my belly and withdrew only when his cock began to lose consistency.
We stayed on the bed hand in hand, he lying on his back, I was still on my stomach.
Suddenly I felt a slight movement in my tummy and then a slight pain, which made me get up and run to the bathroom.
I managed, however, to sit on the toilet just in time and with great relief I first threw out all the air that Corrado had pumped into me and then his cream. I wiped myself with the toilet paper, my asshole was really dilated, so much so that a finger easily slipped in. I sat on the bidet and rinsed myself off with cold water. The beneficial effect was immediate, and I returned to the bed where my boyfriend was waiting for me.
"You didn't like that, did you? - he asked looking at my face - why did you give it to me?"
I didn't answer, but held on even tighter to my boyfriend.
We had been together almost two years, during which time that kind of relationship had repeated a couple more times.
But then, one evening, I discovered something that, besides disappointing me greatly, convinced me that I had to end it with Corrado and not see him anymore: I discovered that he was "assiduously and intimately" dating a distant relative of his.

Gennaro, my husband, was waiting and in the evening sitting on the couch in the living room, in front of a glass of a good red wine, recommending him not to interrupt me, I made a detailed report of everything that came back to my mind and that I had chronologically reconstructed.

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