A Matter of Size
by Dutchguy51

           My wife, Karen, and I tell each other everything.
Thursday, we were on our way to a club for a few drinks and perhaps
some dancing, when the subject of my new friend from England came
up.  I was telling her that he, like myself, enjoyed sharing his
wife's adventures with other like-minded men.  I told her I'd read
several of his stories, and that I noticed a particular fetish of
his that I found rather interesting.  It seems he enjoyed the
humiliation aspect of his wife's antics.

        "It's a rather subtle thing," I said, "he seems to enjoy his
wife telling him how much bigger other men's cocks are, and how much
she enjoys being fucked by a larger cock."

      "Would that excite you?"  She asked.

      "Well, I don't know.  I've never really thought about it."

      She was quiet for the next few miles.  I was enjoying stealing
glances at her as I drove.  Her short black skirt settled about half
way down her thighs, and each time she crossed or uncrossed her
legs, I would get a quick glimpse of her stocking tops.  She's long
abandoned garter belts, preferring instead the look and feel of
thigh high stockings.  I knew that under that skirt she was wearing
her black satin T-back panties.  On top she had on a very sheer
white blouse, and under her blouse were her bare breasts.  I hadn't
seen them because she was wearing a black jacket over the blouse,
but I knew they'd be bare.she seldom wears a bra!

      I should mention her breasts in more than just passing.  They
are a work of art!  She supports a double D cup, size 36.  They are
creamy white.have a few freckles on them.and end with the most
exquisite nipples ever plopped inside a mouth!  Her nipples are
pinkish to brown.and when aroused resemble a .38 caliber bullet.
Our pet name for this part of her anatomy is bullet nips.and with
excellent reasons.  They can become hard as bullets, and I often
joke.twice as deadly!  Many a man has risked all to suckle her
nips.to feel the firmness of her breasts.to know  the exquisite
taste and feel of her pussy.  It's only fitting that we describe her
breasts in such vernacular as to make Smith and Wesson proud!

      When she did speak again, she simply uttered one sentence.
"You know, Phillip, most of the men I've fucked since we've been
married have had larger cocks than yours."

      Let me say right here, that while some may have been a tad
bigger, I've never made much of an issue about the size of the guy
fucking my wife.  The fact that she was fucking someone was more
than enough for me! But her statement was made to excite me.and to
tell the truth.something about it did just that.  I was a bit
excited at the prospect of her fucking a man better endowed than
myself.a man who would stretch her pussy to conform to his cock, not
mine.  I continued what she'd obviously started.

      "No, I wasn't aware of that."

      "It's quite true.I can't think of very many men whose
equipment would be as small as yours.  Don't misunderstand me,
Phillip, I love you a lot.and I love your cock.but sweetie.it's not
the biggest one around.not by a long shot!"

      "Why haven't you mentioned this before?"

      "Why would I?  It's not like you could make yours grow bigger
now, is it?  It's not like there's anything you could do to make me
want it more.plus, sweetie, you are pretty nice to let me fuck
anyone else I want.  So when I need a bigger cock.a man-sized one.I
simply go elsewhere.  That's okay, isn't it, sweetie?"

      This was kind of exciting.  I continued the probe.

      "Are you looking for a big cock, tonight?  Is that why you're
dressed like you are?"

      "Dressed how?"

      "You know.in stockings.and your T-back."

      "Oh, you know what, sweetie?  I forgot all about that old
T-back."  With that statement she lifted herself off the seat a few
inches, slid her hands under her skirt and withdrew them, along with
her panties.  "I won't be needing these tonight, after all, I'm only
dancing."

      My cock was rock hard instantly.  All the talk about guys
fucking her with better cocks than mine had already gotten me in a
turned-on state, but when I realized my wife was about to get on a
dance floor with men she didn't yet know, and allow them to hold her
body close to theirs, and she would have her totally naked pussy
against them.well, I could have cut glass with my diamond hard cock!
But she wasn't through with her new toy of husband humiliation yet.
There was still more to come.

      "Tell me, Phillip.  When a man fucks me and you're in the same
room, and you see he's fucking me with a bigger cock than yours,
would you mind if I mentioned it to him?  Would you mind if I
mention to my new lovers that your cock is sooooo small?  It
wouldn't embarrass you, would it?  I mean.the truth  is the truth!"

      "I'd rather you not do that, Karen."

      "Why?  Are you overly sensitive about your small cock?"

      "Well, up to right now, I never considered it to be below
average.  I thought it was fine, up to now."

      "Such an interesting choice of words, sweetie.  Average.
That's like, 'ordinary' or 'common' isn't it?  I mean, an average
anything is unremarkable, isn't it?  Unremarkable.and.and I guess
one might say 'boring.'" She turned her legs toward me.  We were
pulling into the parking lot of the club as she ran her hands along
the inside of my legs, allowing me to feel her fingernails rake
across the tender inner thighs under my trousers.  She was less than
an 1/8 of an inch away from the head of my cock.  Her hands stopped
as I put the car in park and turned off the keys.  Her legs were not
close together.in fact.I was certain I could see her pussy hair from
the position she was in.  I reached over for her, to pull her closer
to me.to put my hands where my eyes were, to feel her heat.

      But she moved back too quickly.  In one motion, she was out of
my reach, than out of my car. She stood on the parking lot and
waited for me to lock the car.  As I came around to her side she
didn't wait for me.  Instead, she started into the club.  "Try not
to get in my way, tonight, sweetie.  I think I may be in the mood
for a quickie before we get home."

      And just to make sure I understood what she meant, she added,
"And who knows.I may even give you a little, too!"  With that she
walked into the club.  I could hear the music blaring through the
loud speakers.  And my entire body was on fire.waiting with sure
anticipation for what I knew would be a memorable night!


II

            Once inside the club, Karen found a booth on the very
edge of the dance floor.  It would easily seat four, and usually, we
would have taken a smaller table.  But she sat down and I sat with
her.  She opened her purse and took out her cigarettes and lighter
and sat back, crossing her legs, allowing her skirt to ride high
over the right leg.  I enjoyed the show.  Before she even had her
first drag of her cigarette, a man approached our table.  He smiled
easily as he asked her for a dance.  She smiled back.that smile that
tells a stranger she could be had.  I knew that smile.  She'd
practiced it on me for years.  Cigarette in the ashtray, she slid
out of the booth and was on her way to the dance floor with her
first conquest.  She stopped, turned back to me and said, "Whiskey."
I knew what that meant.  The last time she'd ordered whiskey in a
club, she ended up fucking four of the five men in the band.  She
later told me that whiskey made her "crazy."  And now, here she
was.ordering the one drink that would make her even more
uncontrollable than usual.  I couldn't wait to place the order.

      I watched her dance.  The floor wasn't crowded, it still being
early.  And I must say, the man she'd accepted as her first dance
partner didn't seem to be overly aggressive.  The band was playing a
rather fast number, not allowing for a great deal of physical
contact.  It didn't matter.  When Karen dances, everyone notices.
Her skirt seemed to have a will of its own.  As she danced, it rose
up on her legs, and when she'd reach up over her head with her arms,
it would pull even higher, exposing the tops of her
stockings.exciting not only me.but anyone else who realized how hot
she was, how hot she was becoming.

      The number was over, and her "escort" brought her back to the
table.  As he turned to go back to his own table, Karen leaned over
and whispered something in his ear.  I couldn't make out exactly
what she said, but he smiled and replied, "Sure.  Glad to."  With
that he left us alone at our table..

      "Did you enjoy that?"  She asked.

      "What?  Watching you dance?"

      "Yes.  I know how much you like to watch."

      "Yes, I suppose I did.  Did you?"

      "What, did I enjoy dancing.or enjoy you watching?"

      "Either.  Both.  Was he a good dancer?    

      She leaned across the table.  Ignoring my question, she had
another one of her own.  "Did it make your little dick hard?  Did
your penie-winnie get hard watching my skirt rise up my legs?"

      I felt embarrassed.  I don't know why.  No one could hear what
she'd said except me.still, her now sudden interest in demeaning my
manhood seemed to arouse me even more, and as I became aroused.I
became more self-conscious about the size of what I'd considered to
be a respectable cock until less than an hour ago. Little did I know
that what I was feeling was nothing compared to what she had in
store for me.  Just than, her dance partner showed back up at our
booth, this time with his drink in hand.  She moved toward me.making
room for him to sit  with us.with her really.and as he slid in next
to her, she let out an almost inaudible sigh.a sigh that I
understood all to well.

      "Phillip.this is my friend Kurt.  Kurt.my husband, Phillip."
Karen introduced us as if she'd known both of us forever.  I
extended my hand to him, but oddly enough, he ignored it.  I assumed
he hadn't seen it.  The lighting wasn't real good in there, or
maybe.or maybe he was just a rude bastard.  I didn't much care
which.  But I did feel stupid with my hand extended and him ignoring
me.  I put my hand down.  He wasn't paying any attention to me,
anyhow.  Karen was the star of his show.  Mine, too.   My wife
turned to him and said, "Oh, listen. A slow song.  Feel like another
dance, Kurt?"

      A stupid question.  He slid out of the booth, and she followed
him.  This time, before going to the floor, she reached back to the
table and picked up her drink.  She kicked it back in one motion.  A
shot of whiskey.straight.and now down her throat.  She followed Kurt
to the dance floor.  She was right, it was a much slower song, and
this time they did touch.  Karen's 5'7" frame just folded into
Kurt's 6'3" body.  Even with her heels on, she only came half way up
his shoulders.  Damn, I had to admit.she'd picked a fine specimen
this time. He probably weighed around two hundred, two-ten, and even
with his coat on, I could tell he was well built.  He looked like an
athlete, and moved like one as well.  Several times during the
dance, he'd say something to her, whisper it actually into her ear,
and she'd look up at him with those big green eyes that separates a
real red-head from the bottle variety.  I thought she was going to
kiss him once or twice, but nothing like that happened.  It was a
really uneventful dance and when it was over, they returned to our
booth.  This time, as she slid in, I was sure I'd seen a flash of
her pubic hair.but I couldn't be certain.  But I knew if I had.so
too had Kurt.

      Karen turned her body to face her new partner, placing her
back to me.  She began a conversation with him, and I really
couldn't hear a word she said.  With a combination of her back being
toward me, and the music from the band, plus the buzz  from the
other patrons, I really felt left out.  I wondered if Karen knew how
rude she was being.  I wasn't even sure she remembered I was there.
I was wrong.  She turned back to me and said in a rather sharp
voice, "Didn't you order me another drink?  If you're worried about
the expense.I've got money."

      Damn!  She'd never said anything like that to me before.  She
knew damn well I didn't care about the cost of anything.  She'd
simply said that to belittle me.to make me look small.  Like my
cock.  I put my hand up to summon a waitress.Karen didn't like that.
"Shit, Phillip.  Don't wait for a waitress.  Go get me a drink, now.
And bring Kurt a." turning to him she asked him what he was
drinking.  He answered her and she turned back to me.  "Bring him a
whiskey sour.  And get one of those drinks with an umbrella for
yourself.  You do so much like those weak little drinks."  With that
she turned back to her friend and said something that must have
amused him. He laughed and so did she.  And as she laughed, she
allowed her hand to rest on his thigh.  And as I watched, her hand
went from resting to stroking.to stroking his thigh, then to
fondling.to placing her hand too high up for it to be touching
anything other than his cock!  I hurried off for the drinks.

      When I returned, they had changed positions.  He was sitting
in the middle of the booth.  She was at the end where he had been.
Perhaps the most obvious thing was that I couldn't see her left hand
at all.  She was turned facing him, her right arm resting on the
table, but her left hand was down under the cloth, down under the
surface of the table.  In my gut, I knew what she'd done.  I started
to get in next to her, but she looked at me and simply said, "You
need to get in on the other side."  No explanation, no anything.
Just "get in on the other side." This of course placed Kurt in the
middle flanked by Karen on his right, and me on his left.  I placed
Karen's drink in front of her, and Kurt's in front of him.  I hadn't
ordered one for myself.  Karen noticed that immediately. "Where's
your drink?"

      "I didn't want one."

      "Well, of course you do!"  She looked out across the area
until she spotted a waitress.  "Miss.Oh, Miss." Karen isn't usually
that obvious when summoning a wait person.  I couldn't understand
why she was now.  The waitress made her way to our table.  Before
she was actually there, my wife called out a drink order for me.
"Could you bring my husband a drink, please.  Maybe a Pink Lady or
something like that.  Not a real strong drink.  He's not used to
manly things."

      I could have died!  I know it's not likely, but I swear that
everyone in the place heard what Karen said. Now I'll admit I'm not
much of a drinker, but when I do, I usually order something along
the line of gin and tonic or maybe a vodka martini, but I'd never
order a drink like a Pink Lady.  My, God!  I was mortified.  And of
course, Kurt was having a field day at my expense.  I realized he'd
still not spoken a word to me.  He was ignoring me like I wasn't
even there.  Here I was, providing his entertainment and his liquor
and he still hadn't spoken to me.  I was really getting pissed off,
and was just about to say something when Karen leaned over toward me
and spoke.

      "Phillip.  Do you know what I'm doing?"

      "Other than pissing me off?"

      "No,  I mean, what I'm doing with my left hand.  Do you know
what I'm doing?"

      I didn't have to ask.  I looked down at the space between the
table and us and I can honestly say I was shocked!   My wife had
taken Kurt's cock out of his pants and was stroking it, jerking him
off right there between us.  And I must say, other than the shock of
seeing what she was doing, I was even more surprised at the size of
his dick.  It was the largest cock I'd ever seen her hold.  Now, by
now you know Karen and I aren't what one would call a conventional
couple.but this really was outlandish, even by her standards.  But
this was nothing compared with what was to follow.

      "Phillip, I want you to feel this cock."  She said that as
normally as she'd have said, "Feel this material," or  "Feel this
grape."  I know she said it in a whisper, but in my ears, the words
thundered!  She might as well as had a neon sign with a flashing
arrow pointing to Kurt's lap and a loud speaker blaring, "Karen's
holding another man's cock and wants Phillip to feel it, too!"  I
looked away, toward the dance floor.  Oh, how I wished they would
stop this and go dance instead.

      "Phillip.  Did you hear me?  I want you to feel Kurt's cock.
He said you could.  I told him I wished my husband's cock was like
this.so big.so hard.   Go ahead, now.  Put your hand down here and
feel his cock for me.  Be a good boy, Phillip, or I swear, I'll go
down on him right here in front of everyone."

      I knew she'd do it, too.  Trying not to be obvious.I placed my
right hand under the table and tentatively reached over,  running
the back of my hand over the man's hot, hard cock.  The instant my
hand bumped against it, I jerked back.as if I'd been burned by a hot
piece of steel.  This didn't make Karen happy.

      "I told you to touch it.  Put it in your hand.  Close your
hand around it.or as much of it as you can.and tell me what it feels
like.  Do it, Phillip.  Do it now."

      I did as she'd instructed.   My right hand closed around this
cock.this huge hunk of cock meat.and I must say.I was impressed.  It
was huge!   I had a random thought.thank God I didn't have to buy
this for her by the pound.  I just held it in my hand, and I felt a
movement below my hand.  It was my wife's.  I realized that this
cock was so big, that we both had our hands on it.and neither of us
touched the other's hand.

      "What do you think, Phillip.  Isn't it gigantic?"

      I didn't respond.  What the hell did she expect me to say.
But I didn't take my hand away, either.  I could feel it pulsing in
my hand.  I could feel it growing!

      "I said, 'What do you think.'"  Karen repeated, a little
louder this time.  "What do you think about his cock, Phillip?"

      "It's very nice, Karen."

      "Very nice?  Nice is a spring shower.  Phillip.how does it
compare to yours?  How does Kurt's man- sized dick compare to yours?
Which one do you think will give me the most pleasure?  Which one do
you think I should fuck, tonight?"

      "I said it's very nice."

      "Why don't we compare, Phillip.  Take yours out now.  Let's
see yours.  Show Kurt what I usually get when you fuck me.  Come
on.take it out."

      "Karen, please!"

      "I'm not pleased, Phillip.  I want Kurt to see your cock.
He's shown you his.  Now take yours out for him to see.  He won't
laugh.  I promise."

      "Please.  Karen.  Don't do this."

      :"Why not, sweetie.  You were the one who brought the whole
thing up.  You and your friend in England who liked his women to
talk about other men's cocks.  Now, we're talking.  Now, we'll see
if your cock is as little as I seem to remember it.  Show it to us
now, or I promise you, I'll never look at it again, much less fuck
it."

      I did as she commanded.  Without taking my right hand off of
Kurt's growing cock, I unzipped my pants and reached in to withdraw
mine.  It was not easy to do.  It was hard as the table top, and I
only had one free hand to work with.  Besides, with both hands under
the table, I was aware of how I must appear to observers.  It looked
like I was diddling myself, like I was playing with my cock.  But
then, I guess I was.  I freed my hard dick and covered it with my
hand.  Karen wasn't through with me yet.

      "Phillip, jerk on it to make it hard.  I want to see it hard!"

      I mumbled my answer.  The waitress was back with my drink.
The band had stopped playing.  The room was much quieter.  Much
hotter.  The waitress was standing there.  She was waiting for me to
pay for the drink.  I couldn't!  My left hand had my cock in it.  My
right had another man's.  And Karen kept repeating herself.  "Make
it hard.  I want to see it hard.  Make it hard like Kurt's is hard!
Now.  I want to see it hard, NOW!"

      "IT IS HARD, DAMN, YOU.  THIS IS AS BIG AS IT GETS!  YOU KNOW
THAT!  IT'S NOT AS BIG AS HIS.  It's not as big as his.   It's not."

      Karen reached into her purse.  She gave the waitress ten bucks
and told her to keep the change.  I just looked down at the table
top.  The worse thing, however, hadn't happened yet.  I was still a
few seconds away from the worse part of this story.  Karen asked me
again, "Who should I fuck, tonight?  Who deserves this pussy? Should
I give it to a man like Kurt, or to someone like you?"

      I didn't answer.  She asked me again, but this time in a lower
voice.

      "Phillip.  Listen to me.  I want you to tell me what to do.
Should I give it to Kurt?  Should I let him fuck me.or do you want
me to diddle that little thing of yours?  Just tell me, baby.  I'll
do whatever you say."

      Then the worst thing happened.  I came.  I came all over my
hand, all over my zipper, all over my pants. I shot a load of cum
that didn't seem to end.  And the more I shot, the more I felt like
I couldn't stop.  I didn't want it to stop.  I wanted to cum all
night, until I flooded the bar with my jism.until I floated out of
the damn place on a sea of white, sticky cum.  And as I shot my
final spurt, I heard Karen say to Kurt."I think he wants me to fuck
you.  Are you ready to go?"

Any comments?  Reply to dutchguy51@yahoo.com



