Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Someday, somehow, I hope this notebook finds the proper authorities who can
punish my husband and put him away for his crimes.  What crimes you ask? 
ALL of them!  My husband laughed when he saw what I was writing, even
mocking me by giving me more pens, pencils, and notebooks to write in.  But
someday, somehow, he will get what he deserves.  I suppose I should start
from the beginning, to let you know how I got in this situation.  My name
is Amy, and at the time I'm beginning to write this, I'm 28.  I'm married,
of course, no kids...  I hope it stays that way.  I cannot possibly imagine
my husband around children.  Trying not to boast, I'd say I'm pretty good
looking.  That's what my husband always told me, and I try to look my best
every day.  I'm 5'8", and weigh about 130 pounds, last time I checked. 
That may have gone down a bit.  I take pride in my figure, which is not an
hourglass, thank god, but a rather straight up and down figure, with a
little bit of flare at my hips.  And, of course, the well placed 36Cs on my
chest.  My butt is well rounded, definitely not big in any way, and I keep
myself clean-shaven where it counts.  Just out of high school, I was a lost
girl in the college world.  I found a guy who helped me through it all,
John, who was a year older than me.  He would be the man who is legally my
husband, though I don't care to call him that anymore.  He led me through
college in a relaxed, committed relationship.  Everything we did took time,
and he was okay with that.  We took it slow, which eventually led to us
being married a year out of college.  But I'll get to that shortly.  Our
relationship in college was average, except for the lack of intimate
contact.  John was patient, at least that's how I saw it back then.  He
never pressured me to do anything, and did everything with a tender touch
so soft it was as though he was trying to pleasure a dead leaf in the fall
without breaking it.  I knew little about sex upon entering college, and
had only rubbed myself a few times in high school, always fearful to go the
extra length to orgasm.  I'd never let a man see the bare skin of my chest
or pussy, and that took time with John as well.  He gave me my first orgasm
late in my sophomore year, as we'd progressed to seeing one another with
only our underwear on.  Rubbing me through my panties, I begged him to
stop, frightened of what was building up through my body.  He stopped, but
told me to trust him the next round.  I was scared, but after minutes of
pleasing me, I was brought to tears by my first orgasm.  It took much
longer for John to ever enter me.  By the beginning of my senior year, we'd
done some oral, and I'd gotten good at it.  John called me a natural, and
somehow I always managed to avoid a gag reflex when going down on him.  He,
on the other hand, could move his tongue around me in such ways I thought I
was being rubbed by a damp cloud.  After a few months of that, John
introduced me to dildos, small at first, to show me the feeling of
something inside me.  It was difficult for me, but I graduated from dildo
to dildo, eventually working my way up to something of realistic size. 
That isn't to say it was comparable to John.  He has a full 7 inches to
work with, and that's not balls deep.  I've taken all of him a few times,
and it is a feeling of fullness nothing else can create.  The first time we
had sex, it hurt as I'd been told, but John's lovemaking skills quickly
made up for it and after a few weeks, I was "the screamer" in the dorm. 
Though I was somewhat embarrassed of my uncontrollable orgasmic cries, let
me tell you, it was damn good!  After graduating from college, we moved
into an apartment together and became more adventurous.  We used every
piece of furniture in every room of that apartment at least twice, and the
Kama Sutra became a "turn to a random page" game for us.  With me having
been a gymnast in high school, my flexibility came in handy.  All in all,
our year at the apartment was great for lovemaking, and we even had sex in
public twice.  After John landed a job that was well worth the pay, he
surprised me by buying an old horse farm in the hills that hadn't been
functional for quite some time.  When he showed me the house, he was
"surprised" to find an engagement ring in one of the rooms, and of course I
said yes.  With that, I quit my job since John's supported us so easily.  I
was free to do what I wanted, spend money as I liked, and go places on my
own while John worked from the office and home.  He was never worried about
me cheating on him, and I never would have with his lovemaking skills. 
Night after night he pleasured me; sometimes making me scream so loud I was
sure the neighbors a half mile away could hear my cries of "John, John!" We
decided not to have kids, but I went on birth control instead of risking
the loss of John or my perfected reproductive systems.  I didn't want
anyone tying my tubes up, and I would never risk John's loss of libido,
rhythm, or power.  Life was good for us, we loved each other dearly, and
without kids, our relationship was loving, relaxed, and pleasurable.  Of
course...  things change...