I’ve been trying to set out the story of my late wife’s sex life over our 50 years together, but it seems it can’t be done, at least not without a lot of chapters.

For now I thought I could share some of the highlights, starting with how we met.

In the 1950s my future in-laws bought a farm near to Dad’s and I got to know the father and son on farm business. One fall the son got a girl from their church pregnant and left town, leaving his dad in need of help. He asked if I’d be his hired man with room and board. My dad and I had our crops in and I was looking for work, so I said okay, so that January, at age 19, I moved in.

I’d never met the daughter. Wow! Ann was five feet five, 115 pounds, with reddish blonde hair and firm, pointy breasts (34B, I found out later), which I got my hands on sooner than I ever dreamed.

The family was very religious. They went to a hellfire-and-damnation Baptist church 25 miles away. It didn’t seem to have done the no-good son much good. And I was floored, one evening when I’d only been there two or three days, when I was helping with the dishes after supper and Ann asked me to slip into her room that night!

Now I was a virgin and it seems that Ann was not. Her room was at the top of the stairs, but you couldn’t see her doorway from below, so when I got to the top of the stairs I was startled to find Ann standing there naked in the doorway! I was scared, but my cock was fearless. I decided I’d worry about how to get back to my room later!

Because the bed would make noise and give us away, we had sex on the floor. Later, in bed with Ann, I got an idea of why she was so horny. She spared me the details, but I gathered that her rotten brother had gotten her involved in various activities. (Not with him, with friends from other farms.) It hadn’t been all bad — she liked having sex. But when her brother ran away, this left her without, and being a good church girl, she didn’t know how to satisfy herself.

I should add that as Ann was such a well-developed girl, and being so experienced, I assumed she must be two or three years older than me at least. Imagine my surprise when I learned she was actually 18. We had quickie sex all over the farm, but were found out after five months. I didn’t get fired, but was never alone with Ann again until we got married, when I was 20 and she was 19. We had our first boy a year later.

After we were married I wanted sex all the time, and I wanted to try out lots of kinds of sex. Not so, said she. Only missionary. I did get doggie after a while, but no blowjob — I was too big, she said. We had no porno magazines. All I got was sex after Sunday dinner.

After the baby was born there were complications with nursing him that led to Ann having to see the local doctor. Later I found out he was making house calls, and also a shoe sales-man and a young field hand. I forgave her, figuring a lot of it was my fault for neglecting her as so many writers in Penthouse Letters point out.

We had a second boy four years after the first, and when he was old enough Ann started working at a big electronics plant. Don’t know how, but at 32 she looked 25 and was in better shape than when we married.

Anyhow this plant used mostly girls. The building didn’t have air conditioning, so in summer the girls wore short shorts, and when they came out at 11 o’clock at night, a lot of them had their blouses open and you could see that many of them wore fancy bras. Nice!

Ann spent her first check on new bras and shorts. This girl had been taught to wear a slip under her dress, hiding her legs, and did till she was 50, and wore a girdle, so she couldn’t wiggle her ass, till she was 30. I had to laugh — if her mom was near when Ann left for work, she would put on a long skirt that came off before work!

Now came a fly in the ointment. One of Ann’s bosses offered her a ride. This was welcome, as we were short a car and that would help. Ann was working days now, and she was getting home later and later in the afternoon. When I asked Art, her boss, he said she had to help on the next shift.

I’d read enough letters to know better! We had an old barn at the edge of the farm, and seeing car tracks in the dust I took our video camera and went up into the loft. I didn’t have to wait long. Maybe 15 minutes after shift ended here they came!

Over the next few days I had eight or ten rolls. I wanted this in case Ann was going to leave me. While I was angry at first, there was no difference with Ann at home, maybe better. I came to see she was having the time of her life, and as I loved her above all else, the thing I started to worry about was their safety. What if nasty people were to find them?

So I hatched a plan. Next time Art brought Ann home, I stepped out and asked him in. Well, he knew the jig was up, but he didn’t know what I was going to do. As Ann passed me I asked her to take her clothes off and come back to us. When she did, I put my arm around her and asked Art if it wasn’t better to have Ann naked in the house instead of the car. He said sure. I said, “From now on I want you to love her in our bedroom. I’ll stay away, but if I could be in a threesome I’d like it.” Well, in 30 years I had two threesomes, and I don’t expect I’ll ever forget them.

This arrangement relaxed the pair, and Ann also let me have my way with her when we were alone, I guess because of me letting her have Art. Another strange thing, instead of having her tubes tied, Ann asked if we would have a vasectomy, both Art and me. I figured she would just have us two as lovers. But not so — she had many men besides us!

Art and Ann loved to fish and would take three-day weekends out of state. He often had three friends with him, and Ann sat in back with two guys undressing her within the first mile from home. She would jump up and down on them for a while; then the driver would pull over and switch.

They always had a single cabin with separate rooms. After a day fishing and then dinner, back at the cabin Ann would shower but never got dressed. She would go with whoever wanted her and finish up with Art. She came home tired but happy, sometimes with fish.

Sometimes Art and Ann would plan to get together if we took vacations near each other. He would tell his wife he was going fishing early, and while I took breakfast, he’d fuck my wife. This was before cell phones. I don’t know how it was done!

When we were in our mid-60s Ann and I moved to Arizona. At first we drove back twice a year, always spending two or three nights with Art. In April 2000 our granddaughter had a baby girl, so Ann flew up and again made out with Art. Soon afterward she died of a brain-hemorrhage. Fourteen years later, I still miss her terribly.

I’m still friends with Art. We talk on the phone, and sometimes I stop in at his home in Michigan. He’s 89 and still does odd jobs — I don’t know if he still does wives anymore! While he and Ann were having their long-time affair, I was having my own fun with Ann. As you’ve surely gathered, she lost a lot of her old inhibitions. I hope to tell you more about it in another letter.