The Real Thing
 By Dchatterly ?1999

1
It was August the twelfth, 6 days before my wedding day. I
sat with Tom, my best friend and soon to be best man. He
inquired as to what arrangements could be made for my
bachelor party. But I was unsure, telling him it wasn't
important to me. We had been sat sipping beer for the most
part of the afternoon.

"So how's your sex life with Jane then?" he asked. "You know
Alan," his eyes raised in an almost caricature manner, "she
really is very hot - really."

Jane was my fiance, and he was correct in his observation;
she was `hot'. I had known her at that point for only four
months, but from the first moment I saw her I knew I wanted
her as my wife. We were introduced to each other at a Church
fete that I was forced to attend by my community-spirited
parents.  I had spotted her before our introduction,
watching over a stall that sold clothes for some greedy
charity. Despite her choice of clothing on that day were far
from flattering - but perfect for a church event - I could
see she possessed a slender yet curved body, carefully
concealed. And her apparent shyness upon meeting furthered
my interest. Her sidelong glances bolstering my own
confidence, which is normally my downfall in these
situations. Her family had recently moved into the area and
had become friends with my parents through `churchy'
activities. Our meeting started with a simple handshake but
the day ended with me attempting clumsily to ask her out on
a date - which to my surprise she accepted.

"Well, we haven't gone all the way, " I told him with slight
hesitation brought on by how personal the conversation was
becoming. "I thought I would leave that until after the
wedding." To be truthful, this hadn't been through choice -
both of us came from very religious families and during out
short courtship had never gotten the opportunity to try out
what normal young couples take for granted. "We've done a
lot of other stuff though," I lied, trying to regain some
credibility in the `macho' stakes. He smiled, as if waiting
for all the details, but I sipped on a beer in silence.

Tom had a different perspective of things; although we had
grown up together, he'd went off to college whilst I'd opted
to go into the family business of selling lawnmowers.
Throughout our childhood we had shared about everything
there is to share and had been as close as any two boys
could be all from an early age. I was devastated when our
paths ran different courses

The times when Tom came home from college his conversation
was constantly about the girls he bedded and the wild
parties he'd graced with his precence. He'd changed; whilst
I had remained quite innocent when it came to all the
subjects he preferred broadcasting about. Still we remained
friends - good friends - I looked up to his worldly-wise
attitude and envied his countless stories of women and more
women.

"So you're going to wait until the big night then?" Tom
proceeded to ask, unperturbed by my choice to remain silent.
I wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question. "Think
you'll be up to it?" Well that was a question, but I
continued to sip my bottle of beer and refrain from a
retort. "Come on now Alan," he went on. "We both know that
the only time you've ever done it was with that tart at your
21st.  Now that was 2 years ago." Tom was correct; my first
and only time had been at my 21st Birthday party with a
well-known local girl - and she wasn't well known for her
good manners.

"Yea maybe so," I replied. "But what's that got to do with
it."

"Well don't you think that maybe your lack of practice will
be pretty obvious?"

"I don't think that matters Tom. We can't all be as well
traveled as you." I looked at him distastefully. "Don't
worry about me."

"Ah but I do Alan," he gave me a huge smile. "I have your
best interests at heart."

I gave him a look that screamed `shut up' and opened another
bottle of beer. 

"Well if you don't want to talk about it then never mind."  

"What exactly are you saying then Tom?" I said, suddenly
interested in what pearls of wisdom he may have to offer.

"Put it this way, " he replied. "Do you wank a lot?"

This wasn't a conversation I would normally wish to
continue; I put it down to the effects of the alcohol and my
own nervousness about the week ahead that I chose to humor
him.

"A few times a week I guess." I laughed to conceal
embarrassment and lighten the response.

"Come on Alan, don't get embarrassed," He had seen through
my nervous laugh. "Hey I wank all the time. I am the world's
number one wanker. What else are hands for?"

My laugh this time was more confident. "I've known that for
years Tom." 

"So how long does it normally take you to cum when you do
it?" 

"For fucks sake Tom, shut up."

"No come on, tell me, I'm trying to give you some advice
here." 

I did wonder exactly what kind of advice he was trying to
impart. "What do you mean?"

"Do you go in for a quick-finger-fumble, or do you make it a
bit more exotic than that?"

"I try not let it rule my life," I told him.

"So it's just a routine get-it-out-of-the-way kind of thing then?"

"I guess it is. A few minutes, a few tugs and hell, Bob's your uncle."

"Well there's your first problem mate."

"Please get to your point here Tom." I said. "What in hell
are you on about?"

"Right, " he sunk the remains of his latest beer bottle and
laid it down at his feet. "If you're used to a quick wank
then when it comes to having the real thing you'll be
finished in a matter of seconds." He looked at me for a
response. "You see sex is a bit more overwhelming than
wanking. As soon as you enter that velvety cushion between
her legs, it'll be too much for you to hold onto and you'll
just let go, and Bob will be a very embarrassed uncle - if
you get my drift"

I had to admit he did have a point. I had read in
problem-pages of men suffering premature ejaculation, and my
one and only encounter after turning 21 had been
exceptionally brief - I had actually cum as soon as my over
eager cock had touched that velvety area that Tom spoke of.
I had put it down to being first time nerves and had never
dwelled upon it - in fact it was one memory that was a
favorite to draw upon when going through the short lived
motion of pulling myself off behind the locked bathroom door
or beneath the crusty sheets of my single bed.

"Yea well, " I felt I should offer some kind of response.
"Let me worry about that when and if it happens." I smiled
at him, dismissing the apprehension he was throwing my way.

"It will happen Alan, I can assure you of that."

"Well I've got six days to get it right and maybe prolong
those wanks a bit." I tried to once again make light of what
was rapidly becoming a somber analysis of a sex life that
hadn't even begun yet. But admittedly, as we spoke, I was
developing a nervousness inside that I knew was a result of
a fear that I, and I'm sure many men, try to keep held in a
subconscious area.  I was always of the understanding that
the more you thought about these things then the worse they
became - anxiety breeding anxiety and all that.

"There's more to it than that Alan," he said, ignoring my
attempt to alter the mood. "You'll never change what you've
inadvertently trained your body to accept for all these
years. Maybe if you had the next six days in bed with some
understanding wench who didn't mind your ups and downs." He
grinned and shook his head. "But those babes are hard to
find, and what with your track record, I'm afraid, well." He
cast his eyes downwards.

"I think Jane will be understanding and accept things as
they are, if there is a problem. But I think I will be
alright-on-the-night." I suppose I was trying to convince
myself with this response, but the niggle was still
ominously present.

"Yea mate, I'm sure Jane will be understanding, but as she's
a bit short of experience herself, she'll never be able to
help you sort it out. I guarantee it. You need to start as
you mean to go on."

There was some sense in what he was saying, but it was
hardly a topic I thought we should have been discussing, a
bit more personal than I was used to. But the drink was
taking effect.  And yes, Jane was still a virgin - and here
was I in charge of the responsibility to ensure she had a
memorable first time. The pressure was well and truly on.
Here was a guy I had always looked up to convincing me that
I had a sexual related problem even before I had tried it
out. Was he right? The question was reeling around my head.

A silence ensued around us, but the casual sipping of beer
continued. "I want to get this right," I stated, wanting him
now to offer me some potential solutions; seeing his offer
of advice as at least a starting point in alleviating my
growing disquietude.

"I can maybe help you out mate," he told me right on cue.
"This might sound a bit weird, but keep with me." Once again
he downed his latest bottle, a sure sign he was ready for a
stream of words, hopefully helpful ones. He clasped both his
hands out front. "Right, he began. "The problem is your lack
of real sex. You have to get used to the feel of a cunt
clamped around you." I was surprised by his phrasing of the
words but continued to listen. "Once you're used to it,
you'll have no problem whatsoever." He cleared his throat.
"But we don't have any available females who would willingly
serve as your practice doll, so." He paused..letting me
wait, upping my curiosity. "Here's the solution; we get a
doll and you do it with that as many times as required."

"What?" It's not that I hadn't heard or understood what he'd
meant, but I felt it necessary to shout out `what'. What
else could I shout?

"I've seen them before, my room mate when I was at college
used to have one. It was very realistic. Seriously."

I couldn't disagree, it was a sound idea in theory, but in
that instant I dismissed it as a bit extreme. I shook my
head slowly. "I don't think so mate," I told him, "I
couldn't shag a rubber doll - no way."

"Come on Alan, lots of guys use them, I can even get one for
you; save you the embarrassment."

He gave me a serious look, which helped. I was half
expecting him to bust out laughing, so I waited him out for
a moment, tried a hysterical laugh myself then joined him
with my own serious look. The look lingered; I laughed again
then nodded very slowly. "Right then mate, you present me
with the doll and I'll give it a try."

2 The next morning, my sore head kind of dulled the memory
of my conversation with Tom. I awoke with an erection, and
it was only when I began the process of pulling it up and
down that I recalled my agreement with him to have a go with
a rubber doll. As I curled my fingers tighter around my
tool, the thought actually got me quite worked up. I had no
idea why this was, but a few rapid tugs and I felt the hot
flesh in my hand pulsate and let go a tiny torrent of fluid
onto the underside of my duvet. Oh hell, I remembered; this
was exactly why I was to use the doll - to stop this
happening so damn quickly. I felt guilty, or maybe annoyed
that, despite my conversation with Tom; I had started off so
badly with my self-control. Roll on the doll, I thought,
roll on the doll.

Tom didn't let me down either, that evening he visited me
with a plain brown cardboard box under one arm. The usual
pleasantries were swapped between us, the mysterious box,
unopened, was abandoned on my bed.

It was me who broached the subject first. "So what's in the
box?" He smiled brightly, I think glad that I had
remembered. "Is that what we were talking about last night?"

"Told you I wouldn't let you down," he crooned. "So have you
wanked today?"

"No," I lied. Truth was I had only knocked off the one, but
I couldn't admit it now. Although tempted when I came home
from work, I had curbed the craving and promised to save
myself until I found out if Tom remembered his promise. He
definitely had.

"Good man, `cause that's important." He gave me a wink. "So,
do you want to meet her?"

I laughed out loud. "Do you really think this will work?" He
never replied, just grabbed the box from the bed and opened
the folded lid.

"Well get me a foot pump then," he called out before
revealing the contents.

I busied myself under the bed, reaching to the far side
where I kept my football pump. 

"This is Mandy, apparently." Tom now said, looking at the
flesh coloured item still half concealed by the box. "Maybe
you shouldn't see her like this." He proceeded to stuff
Mandy back in her box, looking at me with a sly smile. "Give
me the pump and leave the room for a few minutes."  He
waited. "Go on then," he yelled.

I handed him the small foot-pump and exited my bedroom. The
only place to go was the bathroom. I viewed my face in the
brightly-lit mirror. The anticipation was profound; my
heartbeat was significantly raised, but the strangeness of
the situation didn't strike as I knew it should have. I knew
I wouldn't be able to pee; my cock was rock hard.

A light-knock on the door and Tom's voice whispering through
the crack; "Mandy's ready."

The bolt on the door snapped back loudly. I was face to face
with Tom in the hallway outside. "Listen man, " I told him.
"Do you think we could grab a few beers before I go back to
the bedroom?"

"Sure mate," he responded, as any friend would or should in
a situation such as.

I didn't bother telling my parents we were outward bound;
thinking that seeing them would spoil the whole scenario. We
lived in a large house, where, thankfully, I could come and
go as I pleased without noise of my departure echoing into
the midst of my mum and dads haunts.

The bar across the road was busy, even for a Saturday night.
We chose to sit in the lounge area, where the art of
conversation was being practiced by a few familiar, but
mostly unfamiliar faces.

"So are you screwing anybody right now?" was the first
question I opted to ask Tom.

"You know, he replied, "that girl Samantha."

"Wow, you still seeing her?"

"Her and about three others," he swooned. 

He began to recount tales of recent conquests - the more he
told me, the more I wanted to know - but all the time Mandy
was in the back of my mind. "So what the hell do all these
girls see in you?"

"I've got a ten inch dick." He remarked casually. Growing up
I had often seen Tom in the shower and knew he was the proud
possessor of an organ not to be ashamed of  - but ten inches
- I had to doubt it. "Have you hell, " I told him. I've seen
it - it's not that big."

"Ah but my friend," he went on, "you've never seen it hard.
I hope" We both laughed at this, but I suddenly saw my
friend in a different light.

"Well I better not divulge the length of mine then," I told
him. 

"Come on mate, we're friends. I've told you mine." I wasn't
suitably prepared to avoid answering him on this, but I
reminded myself that our newly found openness could be a
good thing to keep going - especially with his gesture of
the doll.

"About five inches on a good day." I said under my breath.

He raised both hands out front. "Ah so what" was the extent
of his response. 

Tom continued his bed time tales until we'd sunk over six
bottles of beer. The evening was good; talking this way was
new and such a refreshing change form lawn mowers.

"Tell you what, " he said. "You go over the road and see
what's under your duvet. I'll wait here until you return
after ridding Mandy of her plastic hymen." I had to laugh at
this; I laughed and nodded at the same time. Now I was eager
to begin.

I thought it best to keep the light off when I went back
through my bedroom door. Standing in the darkness, looking
over towards where my bed lay, I realised my hands were
sweating.  Maybe if it hadn't been for the alcohol recently
added to my body chemistry I would have changed my mind
about going through with whatever it was I was going to go
through with. But Mandy beckoned. In my head I dismissed the
fact I was going to discover a plastic woman in my bed - she
became real (still Mandy though - the name had grown on me).
I slowly shed my clothes and tiptoed across the room so as
not to wake her.

Under the duvet it was cold, but I discovered I was not
alone as my side touched what was there. I allowed one
finger to trace the shape of what my side was in contact
with. This gave nothing away - nothing abnormal sprung to
mind - it felt pleasant to touch - so far so good. My hands
got a bit bolder, palms down easing over the surface -
meeting the shape of a well-developed breast. It's peak
revealed a nipple, which I tweaked as any man would. Then
over this surface to a second breast - equally sized,
equally pleasing to touch.

Hair brushed my brow as I cuddled in closer, soft and
tickly. I planted a gentle kiss on the area where I felt the
hair. There was no returned kiss, but instinct allowed me to
continue with my mouth moving to where a mouth would
anatomically be located. Slightly shocked to discover the
outline of lips - abnormally open wide - but so they would
be if a deep-kiss were being reciprocated. My mouth took
this as a welcoming gesture and opened in response to kiss.
My lips were now wrapped around a cavity, my nose finding a
nose exactly where a nose should be. The cavity required a
tongue to explore the hollowness - I obliged, encircling it
around the circumference, pressing in harder and closer. I
slowly and skillfully maneuvered myself half on top of the
motionless object of my attention. The stiffness of my cock
against my mattress began to make me feel the beginnings of
a familiar arousal pattern. Whereas usually I would reach
down, grasp it and rub furiously, this time I knew my luck
was in. I had to find out where I was going - so a single
finger went on an exploratory assignment to get my bearings.
It poked between another area of soft hair, probably a bit
clumsily, but hey this was no mission of mercy. A bit of
extra force by the coming together of a few more fingers and
I had found an opening. There was a different feel to this
cavity - a waxy-like texture - allowing an ease of movement.
I upped the motion, thinking I might as well practice this
part as well - even warmer now, the friction was causing
heat and...fuck my cock was hard and straining now. I helped
myself to some more free movement, letting my knees take the
strain as I began to position the lower part of my body over
the shape that was now almost completely under me. My free
hand forced apart the legs and I dragged my cock over and
atop the opening. But just as I pulled back to gain a
position in which to plunge, my internal anal muscles
twitched and I felt the climatic surge of semen outpouring
from the tip of my raised cock. I had cum. Shit! Shit! Shit!
I had cum.

Lying very still, I waited until my breathing took on a
normal tempo. I was still on top of Mandy only I felt a
stickiness between us; from the end of my troubled penis -
appending to her very own pubic area where earlier I had
stroked the soft downy hair. Oops. I felt myself blushing
and almost blurted out an apology before remembering that
Tom would be waiting for my return. Should I lie to him?
Should I tell him that I damn well prematurely ejaculated
with a rubber doll? It seemed that I needed more help than I
imagined. I didn't want to suffer this same short-lived fate
on the night of my wedding to Jane. I would have to tell
him.

I flung my clothes back on; still keeping the light switched
off. I couldn't bear to face the female I had just let down
so badly. Mandy lay, as ever, motionless, but as my eyes
were now well adjusted to the dark, I could just make out
her outline naked on my bed. She looked every inch a fine
female form; the dark outline of her gravity defying breasts
would be the envy of many women I was sure.

Back at the bar, I found Tom entranced in conversation with
a couple of girls. He was surprised to see me, but
thankfully didn't ask for a blow-by-blow account of what had
transpired.

"Hey there Alan, this is Rachel," he said pointing to a very
tall red head. "And this is Toni." Toni was an extremely
cute blonde dressed in the tightest leather skirt I had ever
seen. Her breasts struggled to stay confined in the equally
tight top that was manually tied at her cleavage. "This is
my very good friend, Alan." All eyes were upon me, the girls
smiled warmly. "I know Rachel from college," he continued.
"And she's the tallest girl I know with the best legs in the
land."

"Oh Tommy stop it," the tall red head said coyly. 

"What are you drinking Alan?" Tom asked me.

"Eh just a beer please," 

Tom stood up. "Sit down Al. They don't bite, well, Rachel
does but that's a long story." They all laughed again; I sat
down next to the smaller of the two girls and Tom
disappeared from view.

"What do you do Alan?" I was asked. 

This always embarrassed me, but I was too honest for my own
good. "I sell lawnmowers."

The two girls looked at each other, stifling a giggle I am
sure. "Well I'm a nurse and she's still at college," Toni
said. I couldn't help watching her prominent cleavage as she
spoke. I tried to ascertain if they could be the same size
as the ones I had moments ago had in my grasp - they must be
close. The polite banter soon dried up after an explanation
of how, with the lawnmower business being seasonal, we had
to do other equally exciting things such as renting carpet
cleaners and industrial equipment. Although I tried not to
make it obvious I had breasts on the mind, when Toni yawned
I cast my eyes downwards once again and took in as much of
the shadowed area between them as I could.

Thankfully Tom returned to bolster the conversation and
protect the girls from death through boredom. They greeted
him with gratitude for the drinks that he spread about the
table. Then he was off and running: charming and outspoken,
holding the constant attention of the two young girls.

We kind of turned into a foursome for the rest of the
evening and I was nervous of being seen by anyone who knew
of my relationship with Jane. I would have packed myself off
for an early night to lessen the chance of being seen, but I
just couldn't tear myself away from opportunity of being in
the line of sight of Toni's tits.

Finally last orders were called and a decision on what to do
next was to be made. Tom made it quick: "Right, its all back
to Toni's place to continue the drinking!"

By this time I'd had enough alcohol, so attempted to request
a coffee when we arrived at her third floor flat. The place
was decorated as only a girl would decorate - but pleasant
and very cozy for this time of the evening. The coffee was
refused on the grounds that it would be too boring. Who was
I to fight off that ever-present peer pressure, so I opted
for a small measure of whiskey that once in my hand turned
out to be filled to the rim and void of dilution.

Upbeat music was chosen but lasted only two songs when
Rachel changed it for a slow softer sound. Her intention was
becoming obvious as she took residence on the same seat as
Tom. By natural selection, I tried to keep Toni entertained,
wondering if I should mention my looming marriage. I chose
not to and continued to treat her to some lawnmower selling
anecdotes. She sat on the floor by the fire, close enough
for me to keep a budding interest on her breasts, but too
far to emulate what Tom and Rachel were starting. They were
treating each other to the whispering of `sweet nothings'
and occasional stolen kisses. Rachel's legs were stretched
out to full length as she sat on Tom's knee, turned in to
face him.

I could see that Toni was taking more of a passing interest
in events on that side of the room. Even as I spoke directly
to her, she watched her friend enjoying the closeness of
Tom. I shut up and joined her in observing our respective
acquaintances.

Silent moments passed, broken only by soft murmurings and
sighs from the couple within our view. I turned to steal
another look at Toni, sat with her legs curled under her
rear; the tightness of her skirt gripping her thighs, giving
me a fresh voyeuristic fortuity. Her sex appeal stung me as
overpowering; the relaxed and warm atmosphere in the room,
along with the added incentive of alcohol induced
confidence, spelt out the next move I was to make. I made
for the floor, smiling as I lay in the proximity of Toni.
She was startled, but not enough to send me on my way.
Perhaps she too thought that this was the right thing to do
given the circumstances. She relaxed and I suppose awaited
my next brave move. When no move was forthcoming, she helped
me out by stretching out her legs and moving into a more
comfortable position. My mouth became uninvitingly dry as I
took in the sight. I'm not sure if it were her or me that
brought our bodies even closer to a point of significant
contact. Fact to face, side by side, suddenly one of my
hands was on her skirt, feeling the coolness of the
material. She sensed me tremble but helped me out again by
guiding this hand upward to come to rest on one of the
breasts I had spent the evening eyeing so blatantly. She
circled my hand for me, demonstrating the way she wanted it
touched. A wicked smile appeared and she signaled me
silently to turn and observe the goings on to the rear of
me. There was Rachel with her skirt hem now waist high,
kneeling across Tom on the chair. It was difficult to see
for sure, but it was pretty obvious that he was actually
fucking her. His trousers were still on but his fly was
undone and they were truly joined at the hips, gyrating very
slowly; grinding and swaying gently. The expression on Tom's
face was one of concentration. I could only see the back of
Rachel's head, but by the sound she emitted, we both knew
what she thought of this activity.

Whilst I continued watching my friend skillfully fucking the
lean redhead, I didn't notice Toni slip a hand through my
own now open trouser front. Then I was aware of her touch
directly on my cock. Her other hand had unclipped the back
of her skirt and she was peeling it down over her bare legs.
Tom had seen this happening and managed a smile in
acknowledgment.

As shell-shocked as I was, once Toni's semi nakedness was
finally revealed to me, I complied with the directing of my
hand to the top of her raised thighs. She then left me to me
own devices, with decisions to be made about what direction
to take. A kiss was now upon me, so my hand took the only
course of action left open to it - slipping under the
elastic of her tiny panties to the warm area inside. This
area was decidedly damper than that of the object that lay
at home in my own bed. Her thighs clamped around my hand,
drawing it upwards. She squeezed nonchalantly on my cock to
indicate approval of my interest in the inner areas of her
body. But the squeeze took me to the point of no return and
I spurted a small quantity of fluid across her wrist. This
time she was startled and showed no sign of regaining the
composure she'd shown when I'd first lain down beside her.
She quickly withdrew her hand and sat bolt upright, giving a
thunderous expression of disdain.

I quickly fumbled my bewildered penis back into my trouser
front, turning away from her as I did so. I saw Rachel
looking over from on top of Tom, her hand over her mouth to
conceal the most obvious laugh I'd ever witnessed. She
quickly concentrated back on her own situation, not before
whispering something into Tom's ear.

Toni had run out the room and I was left alone, ashamed and
emotionally exposed. I stared expressionlessly at the floor,
listening to Rachel's moaning increasing in volume and
frequency. My plight was bad; the future loomed gloomily -
instead of evoking the excitement a marriage to the woman
you love should do.

Rachel let out one final wail, and I couldn't resist looking
over. Her head was thrown back and she was biting hard on
her top lip. Tom's eyes were closed and his face contorted
as he stopped himself from joining in the sexual chorus. She
flopped forwards and they hugged stilly for a moment. When
she began to move off Tom, her long legs merely inching
backwards, I saw Tom's cock unplug itself with a pop from
her grateful body. They were both smiling contentedly,
watching each other's eyes closely for endorsement of their
mutual satisfaction. They both found what they were looking
for, and Rachel smoothed back down her skirt, her eyes still
not leaving Tom's. "I'll just go and check on Toni," she
said in a hoarse whisper like she had almost lost the
ability to speak properly.

Tom nodded and remained silent until she had left the room.
Once the door closed, he looked towards me as he made the
effort to tuck back his cock inside his trousers. I saw now
the difference he'd spoke of earlier; his cock, even now a
disappearing hard on, was immense, quite significantly
larger than the times I recalled seeing it flaccid, and much
over twice the length of my very own. Right now to think of
my cock was the worst thing to do, I was definitely not
going to speak to it for a while - after all - it had let me
down in public.

"What's with you mate?" he said, once safely tucked away.

"Well I wasn't expecting this to happen. I guess I lost it a
bit. Must be the drink."

"But if you had went through it earlier with Mandy, then you
should have been a bit desensitized, surely."

"Well I didn't exactly have much luck there either."

He looked confused, but I thought that now wasn't the right
moment to go into the details of my liaison with Mandy.

"Tom!" Rachel shouted for Tom from behind the shut door. He
walked over to open it, adjusting his crotch crudely as he
stood.

"What's up Rachel?"

"Could you help Toni out a minute?"  She asked.

I could hear Rachel's voice, but she remained outside the
room. Tom hesitated, considering something. "What do you
mean honey?"

"Well she's in a kind of bad way you see," she continued. "I
thought you might be able to do something for her."

Tom turned to look back at me. "Oops mate," he said. "It
would seem that my services are required for a female in
distress." He gave me a wink and shut the door behind him.

From the room and the crouched position in which I remained,
I could hear Toni's distress being relieved. She was
certainly nosier than Rachel had been. But perhaps the
privacy of a bedroom had allowed a more creative session to
ensue.

I wondered where Rachel had gone off to, when she opened the
door and entered the room with two steaming cups of coffee.

"Here you go Alan," she spoke to me. "They'll not be too
long I hope." She smiled on hearing a particularly loud
scream echoing down the hallway.

As we waited, conversation was scarce, eye contact was even
rarer, but I committed myself to drinking the coffee as hot
as I could to take my mind off this painful episode.

When they both came back into the room, I was glad to see
that an effort was being made to bring things back to
normality. Tom made some skillful small talk that brought
everyone back onto even terms. I even found myself sobering
up and enjoying the feeling of the attention being directed
away from any sexual goings on.

"You'll have to get this sorted out," Tom said to me as we
walked back towards my house. It was still dark, but only
just as the wee small hours turned into bigger numbers. We
hesitated outside my bedroom door, remembering the presence
that lay inside.

"What about Mandy?" I said, my hand reaching out to the door
handle.

"So what happened before?" he whispered. 

I told him about my attempt to couple with the doll. If he
was amused, he made a good job of hiding it.

"Oh shit," he remarked. "So you came before you had a chance
to penetrate?"

I nodded. "I kept the light off and I suppose my body was
fooled into believing it was the real thing, so acted
accordingly."

"Mmm, this is worse that I thought."

"But I liked the feeling of the doll."

"I thought you hadn't properly felt it."

"I hadn't, I mean its tits and pussy."

"What you mean you fingered it?" This time he failed to hide
his amusement. "Come on, let's both go and meet her now."

With that I opened the door and we entered the bedroom. The
duvet covered the doll, just a glimpse of dark hair could be
seen on the pillow.

"I'm going to help you mate, I promise you." He said. "Right
come on, take your trousers off."

"God Tom, I can't do that." I protested.

"Just do it Alan. You've seen me screwing a girl. There is
nothing to hide, it's the only way I can help you sort this
out."

I pondered momentarily; thinking that what Tom knew about me
couldn't really be any more embarrassing than going along
with whatever he was about to suggest.

"Alright," I nodded, and dimmed the light switch. I sat on
the edge of the bed and removed my trousers as instructed.
My penis hung limp and sticky against my testicles. "This
may be difficult, you know, to get it bigger."

He politely didn't look between my legs as I remained sat on
the bed. 

"Well this might do it, " he began. "Imagine Jane on your
wedding night removing her long white dress. She stands
before you, stockings and a bra that keeps a firm grasp of
her swollen breasts. She's aching to find out about the
pleasures that can be got by feeling you deep inside her,
but she's nervous and needs you to lead the way. You take
her hand and pull her into you. Her curves are against your
body. Here is the woman you love just about to offer her
virginity to you - the way she looks, you know, would drive
any man wild; any man. But you've got her and you sure as
hell want this to last as long as you can. She takes one
step back from you. She's close enough so you can still feel
her breath, warm and slightly laboured against your cheeks.
He hands crisscross over her chest. In unison, they pull
down the straps that hold her breasts from sight. Her bra
falls. She's now looking so deeply into your eyes, she's
offering you her body completely."

I looked down at my cock, stirring into some kind of life as
Tom continued to plant this image in my head. I cleared my
throat. "Right Tom, I think I am ready."

He now cast his eyes to see what all the fuss is about. His
face grimaces slightly. "Alan, he says. "It is small isn't
it?"

I look down to where his eyes have befallen. My cock,
standing in a semi erect position, lifted slightly from its
usual resting position. "Well maybe compared to yours Tom,"
I tell him, managing a smile to give me back some of the
confidence he just knocked out of me.
 
"It's not just the length Alan," he goes on. "But it's
really thin, I mean really thin." His eyes are especially
examining me from across the room, and then he suddenly
remembers what we are trying to accomplish. "Right. Come on
then slip under the duvet and let's give this a shot."

Although I felt quite tired, and my body was overwhelmed by
an early morning sobering up sensation, I concentrated in
following the instructions of my experienced friend. I lay
down next to Mandy, this time aware of the strong smell of
rubber, and pulled the duvet back over us.

"Right," Tom continued, taking on the tone of a
schoolteacher. "For now, that's Jane lying beside you and
she's nervous about what's going to happen. So you reassure
her with some soft kissing and a slow caress of her neck and
arms. Don't go straight for her tits, give he a chance to
relax." He pauses in order observe if I am listening. "Go on
then Alan, start it off."

I begin to kiss the latex material of the cheek, deviating
from his direction by running my fingers through the fine
hair on the head.  I hear him acknowledge my progress, and
both my hands disappear under the duvet to initiate the
foreplay.

"So does she feel good to you? Are you getting any harder
than you were?" he asks me in a quite whisper. I don't turn
around to him, but manage to nod my head as I work my lips
on the neck. "OK then," he continues, satisfied that I am
past the first phase. "Maybe brush very softly against her
breasts as if by mistake while you feel her side. They're
bigger then Jane's aren't they?" I can't resist stealing a
bit more than a slight touch of her breasts, but Alan
couldn't see exactly what my hands were up to. I squeeze a
palm directly across one of the unmistakably firm tits, the
feeling fooling my cock into thinking that Mandy is as real
as it gets. It works, and I feel my cock perk up in
agreement of my actions.

Suddenly I feel a draft on my back as I realised that Tom
has pulled the duvet off the bed. "I thought so, " he says,
"that hand of yours is getting you carried away, slow down
man." My hand withdraws from its attention to her breasts,
and I wonder if I can actually continue this with my friend
seeing it all.

 "Right, OK, lets not worry about that now, I don't want to
spoil the mood here," he suddenly assures me, perhaps
sensing my discomfort. "Try a finger and tease the outer
part of that pussy there, I can see your getting worked up.
Maybe we should cut back on the foreplay and see if that
helps things for now."

I'm thankful that he has decided to take this course of
action, thinking that the most embarrassing thing would be
to come before I got the chance to enter her. "Slowly, very
slowly, roll on top of her as you work a finger in to get
her ready for you." My hand is already one step ahead of him
and feeling its way through the pubic hair. I remembered the
feeling from before as a single digit presses its way
directly inward and upward, the ease of movement through the
soft waxy surface, almost inviting more fingers to join the
first one. I gently massaged the finger back and fourth.
"That's it Alan," Tom said, she's ready for you now."

I was ready too and moved my whole body across the dolls,
using my spare hand to open the legs. "This is important
Alan." Tom began speaking quietly again. "Try blocking out
what you're doing from your head. Think some un-sexy
thoughts, try saying the alphabet backwards." I knew what he
was saying made some kind of sense, so I aligned my thoughts
away from the perfect body below me. I removed my hand from
between the legs and took up the only fucking position I
knew. My cock slowly entered where my finger had been, the
latex material widening easily, the cavity receiving me as
it was designed to do.

"Now slowly Alan. Slowly!" Tom's voice was louder now, and I
realised he had to do this to be heard over the beginnings
of my own moaning. "Slowly move your hips," he shouted
again. I began the movement, my mind in turmoil to try and
ignore the wonderful feeling that was building. I was on my
third mild thrust when I could hold back no more. Conscious
that I had an audience, I tried to avoid clenching my
buttocks as the orgasm rippled through me. As my fluids
leaked out for the third time that night, embarrassment and
shame forced me to grapple for the duvet to conceal my
quivering torso. I could hear Tom voicing his
disappointment, but he tactfully attempted to offer some
encouragement at the same time. "OK Alan, it's OK, we'll get
there, you're obviously just a horny bastard." I couldn't
look up to meet his eyes, scared that I would discover his
true reaction. He continued contributing some forced
encouragement before telling me he would see me later on.
The words "Don't worry mate" rang through my head as I heard
the door close behind him.

3 I met Jane for lunch later on that day. She kept asking me
if I was feeling well, saying I looked worn out. I did feel
tired and my head throbbed constantly, but my thoughts were
locked on my impending wedding night, a nervous churning
dwelling deep in my stomach.  The more I looked at her, the
more the feeling persisted; the shape of her breasts
uncharacteristically obvious today, and her bum covered
tightly in light blue denim. I saw the challenge ahead of
me: to satisfy this beautiful woman who was soon to be my
bride.

Jane had no idea of the sexual presence she possessed. Being
a man, I regularly observed other men glancing admiringly at
her - despite her usual propensity for wearing non-
flattering clothing. She simply skipped through life
oblivious to the power she could impart on anyone of her
choosing. I was lucky in the fact that I had merely been in
the right place at the right time, when her family thought
it wise she take a husband. But I wanted things to be
perfect for us. We did talk about sex occasionally; and
given the right mood, she would tell me of her excitement of
beginning that part of married life. She admitted that,
despite her sheltered upbringing, she had touched herself in
bed and found the feeling entirely pleasurable.  Since
hearing this from her, I had used the image of her nervously
fingering herself during many of my own wanks, although I
had not shared this with her. She did however know of my one
time experience with a woman and found this acceptable,
saying that at least one of us would know what they were
doing. I sensed that once we were wed, if I managed to
introduce her to a decent sex life, then she would develop a
hearty appetite for more of the same. I longed for that
moment, but due to my recent activities, I envisaged it
being more difficult than I had always believed.

The idea came to me after the next few attempts to increase
my staying power through use of Mandy and her various holes
had failed. Each time, I allowed myself time to mentally
prepare - I concentrated intensely, trying various
modifications to my technique. I tried rear entry, tried
bouncing Mandy on top me, tried it standing, sitting,
kneeling; with condoms, rubber rings, lubricant,
desensitising cream. I spent four full days after feigning
illness to get off work - morning, noon and night - on the
floor, against the wall, on the hard chair, soft char, and
carpet - even in the bath.   Mandy never complained, but
each new erection ended with a brief session, me puffing and
irritated waiting for my next erection to arrive. After the
second day, I just needed to look at Mandy and my thoughts
would turn to screwing her - but my excitement, like my
hardons was short lived once I penetrated her plastic pussy.
I even took to dressing her up in underwear or fully
clothing her and going through the process of undressing her
before mounting - trying to catch her off guard. The
underwear actually made it worse; Mandy looked perfect in
black stockings; once or twice I had relapsed and soiled the
stocking tops whilst journeying to my very temporary home.

In all the times I went through the motion of making love to
my `practice' girlfriend, I never got beyond five light
thrusts. A few times I tried increasing the speed in order
to beat my own personal best, but got to all of three
thrusts before the inevitable happened. Admittedly, if I did
it this way I could continue the momentum for another six or
seven jabs before my cock wilted and the action became
futile. Perhaps I could fool her into believing she'd been
the recipient of ten rapid thrusts before I had
intentionally called it a day.

When Tom came round to assess my progress, I refused to give
him a demonstration. He saw the bucket load of tissues by my
bed and remarked that I'd been a busy boy. After half an
hour of avoiding answering his inquiry, I finally came clean
and blurted out dishearteningly that I wasn't improving. He
displayed genuine concern and tried to make me feel better
by saying it may be different when it came to `real'
practice. I was not convinced. He said he would dispose of
Mandy for me, theorising that if I forgot about it entirely
then it could make it easier. He was a true friend, I saw
that, but I couldn't bear to let Mandy go.

It was then I made the suggestion: Would he take her
virginity for me on our wedding night? He was speechless to
say the least, confused by my despairing proposal. I
explained that if we set it up properly then we could fool
Jane into thinking it was me.

"And how the hell would we do that?" he asked, looking at me
seriously, almost questioning my sanity.

"Well we're bound to do it with the lights off that's for
sure." I replied.

"But how?" he protested.

"You could be in the bathroom. I could say I need the toilet
and we could swap over then." It was a simple theory, one
that at that moment I believed could work. "We're of the
same build, well most of us. If you get a haircut and have a
close shave, then I'm sure we'd pull it off. Theirs no way
Jane would ever suspect foul play." We both fell silent for
an extended minute. I could see his expression was one of
deep thought and obvious consideration of my idea.

"But afterwards?"

"Well we swap back as right away."

"No I mean, the next time you do it."

"Yes but by then she will have the lasting memory of the
session with you. I'm sure she'll forgive me a few failed
sessions. And she'll be eager for some of that practice that
we have been talking so much about."

"God Alan, it will never work," he said. "Or would it? Oh
hell I don't know." I could sense he was in the process of
convincing himself. I let him ramble for a few minutes, gong
through the pros and cons of carrying out such a
preposterous idea. He finally joined me once again in silent
deliberation.

"I may regret this," he eventually stated. "Well you may
regret it more than me but OK, let's do it."

I had talked him around. It would work. 

4 That evening I spent in the company of Jane and her
parents. Jane and myself were comfortably close on the couch
and her mum and dad sat opposite us in silence gripped in a
tense game of scrabble. I developed an erection that would
not disappear as my thoughts continually altered from Mandy
lying patiently at home waiting for me and the scheme Tom
and I had developed earlier. I couldn't decide between the
two distinctly different thoughts, which one was exciting me
more. The image of Tom screwing my pretty new wife certainly
got my heart thumping at an incredible rate - thundering the
blood straight down to my penis. And the memory and
knowledge that after I said goodnight to Jane I could go
home to a sure thing with Mandy. The first thought gave me
the erection and the later one helped keep it in place. I
was sorely tempted to make a quick visit to the toilet to
dwell on the thoughts in private but I resisted - enjoying
the warmth inside the crotch of my jeans.

"Your quiet tonight honey," Jane whispered so as not to
disturb her parents concentration. "I've a lot on my mind, "
I replied, capturing an instant thought of Jane whispering
in this way to Tom but thinking it was me. The anticipation
was building with just four days to go until our big day. I
recalled the girls from the other night; of seeing or rather
hearing the reaction Tom brought about from the girl who sat
on his lap. Would Jane emit similar noises? Would she come
with Tom? Would her first time be all that she anticipated?
I rather hoped she would and would gain a taste for more of
the same.

As Jane said goodbye to me at the front door we joined in a
lengthy kiss. She whispered to me that she was eager to be
together as man and wife - a way that only she could put it.
Actually during the kiss I was aware of her breathing
intensifying and face flushing to a degree I had never
witnessed before. I genuinely believed she was longing to
begin her long awaited sex life. I couldn't help but imagine
how wet she must be right then - to a point where she would
be confused, due to her lifelong innocence, about how her
body was reacting - but liking the feeling and hoping for
more and more.

As I walked home I found a new urgency in my pace. The
friction on my erection, helped along by this thought of
Jane's body being at the disposal of Tom, ultimately made me
come. I paused for a moment in the dimly lit street and
allowed the pulsating to cease. I was thankful that the
street was quiet - realising how my grimacing face might
look to a passerby.

As the erection I'd maintained for the majority of the
evening began to dwindle, I felt it retract through the
stickiness that was now present inside my boxer shorts. I
had to disappoint Mandy when I finally tumbled into bed and
I opted for a simple uncomplicated cuddle instead. Through
the night however I felt that familiar twitch leading to me
being thrown into instant wakefulness which could only be
halted by one thing. I'm sure Mandy didn't even stir as I
gleefully poked my cock into her ever-ready hole. The
digital clock by my bedside gave the game away - the digits
signifying the minutes remaining the same at the beginning
and end of my connection with her.

 Tom arrived early the next morning. I was aware of a light
knocking - intruding within the half trance I had managed to
put myself in at some point through my designated sleep
period. The usually simple process of getting off to sleep
had become a long haul - taking my every effort to lessen
the alertness my body had decided it desired. But the
knocking soon made enough sense to force a growl as
indication of my presence within the room. It took a hefty
grasp of my shoulder to finally bring me around.

"Hey man, wakey wakey." I heard Tom's voice cooing lightly.

I stirred, remembering Mandy's presence in my bed. Too late.

"You still enjoying the company of that heavenly doll?" 

"Just kind of used to it being there now," I told him as I
hoisted myself up onto my elbows.

"Well get yourself dressed then. We're going shopping."

I did wonder exactly what he meant, but decided not to ask
until I was in more of state to take it in.

When I did finally rise completely I was more than aware of
Tom checking out my naked torso. I grappled with a pair of
boxer shorts in a desperate urge to conceal my usually
concealed parts.

"I guess that our bodies are similar," he told me. "But
Alan, I'm afraid that one bit may be a give away."

"Do you really think it will be noticed?" I asked him,
finally hiding the part to which he referred.

He just nodded, but I could see there were many thoughts
firing away behind his eyes. I sat on the edge of the bed
next to Mandy; her opened mouth expression - the gape I'd
kissed so often now - seemed like a smile - a large smile -
as it happened too large to be any good for its intention -
but a good size for dragging your tongue around. Her breasts
were bared also; the softness in design of the fleshy parts
that always kept their shape - culminating in the peak of
each nipple, constantly erect - usually the focus of my
attentive gaze when mounted atop her lean figure.

"Would you like to see it properly?" he asked me.

I turned back to face my friend, knowing exactly what the
`it' was but not wanting to appear too eager. We watched
each other's eyes for a sign of something - positive or
negative it would have been good to see some kind of sign,
but none was evident, I suppose it seemed quite logical to
see exactly what was going to be gifted to my wife on our
wedding night. I broke the silence: "But I have seen it
before."

"Yea."

Another moment of watchful silence as I imagined again how
it looked. "Well I suppose I haven't seen it close up." I
managed a laugh in between my words. "But I suppose it's
important to see what I have to live up too afterwards." I
sustained the laughter, offering some light to a strangely
serious moment between friends.

"Hell I know what would be good," Tom declared eagerly. "How
about if I do it with the doll right now so you can see what
it will be like. To prepare you for the eventuality if you
like."

I pondered on his suggestion, then began a slow nod which
ended with a reasonably eager endorsement to his suggestion.
"Yes! Yes!" I proclaimed. "That's a great idea."

"Right then, it's a deal. Give me a moment or two to get
myself in the frame of mind and then we'll begin."

"Fine."

I left the room to give him his moment and took the
opportunity to bring myself around by a ferocious splashing
of cold water about my face and chest. I felt I would have
to be as awake as I could get for this. The bathroom floor
ended up being the recipient of the majority of the water,
but I left the room unconcerned to wait outside my bedroom
door for a signal. I could hear the sounds of my parents
through the long halls of the house but tried not to let
that put me off - now shivering - either through cold or a
new found nervousness. I continued to wait, listening out
for the call, wondering what preparations he meant - trying
also to cast my mind forward a few days to what it might be
like when we go through it for real, and if we would
actually go through it for real. The call came; a tame
rendition of my name from beyond the door.

Tom was completely naked and keeling on the bed to the right
of Mandy. One of his hands was around the doll, the other
was holding onto the base of his semi erect cock. His cock
stretched well beyond the top of his clenched fist, making
the hand look out of proportion to its size. From below the
fist, his balls hung heavily and acutely conspicuous.

"Hope you don't mind if I miss out on the foreplay but I
think it might not help me keep this going."

I nodded.

"Pretend that's the bit we did when you were out the room."
He turned to face Mandy and I approached to gain a view of
his technique. He began to massage his foreskin gently down
the shaft of his cock then let it return to its resting
position. I could tell that he was not as hard as I'd seen
the other night - obviously he was having trouble
substituting the real thing. This soft momentum continued
for a few more strokes, then he walked his knees over the
bed towards Mandy. When he was close enough, both his hands
freed themselves and took hold of a leg each. They lifted
them up gently; spreading them and at the same time easing
them back. Mandy continued to stare beyond Tom, her mouth in
that permanent state of awe. Once he felt comfortable with
the position he'd got her into, he positioned his hips
between them, then I watched as his cock disappeared inside
the slit. It was a slow process, not as I had imagined -
well not like I had practiced anyway. The shaft of his cock
had to work its way up and Tom had to grasp her shoulders to
present himself with a little more leverage.  I saw the
latex material finally give way to his cock then he must
have decided this was enough penetration as he started to
move in the traditional manner. All I could really see at
this point was his buttocks clench then unclench as his
lower body moved to a steady rhythm. He kept it up and up
and up then increased then slowed back down. I moved closer
to gain a clearer view, aware of my own hard on developing
in reaction to the sight. A single bead of sweat trickled
down his back as the pace of his thrusting reached am
extended rapid rate.

I began to wonder how long he was going to continue the
demonstration of precision lovemaking. Perhaps it was the
fact it was a rubber doll that was delaying what would have
happened to me long ago. But he continued to continue. Maybe
he was showing off; maybe he was allowing me time to
consider this happening to Jane. Quite the opposite however,
this made me more eager to see Jane on the receiving end. My
cock tented out the material of my boxer shorts. I began to
clench my buttocks to the same timing as Tom continued upon
Mandy, making the muscular contraction force my tightening
testicles upwards. This went on for as long as I could hold
it back, then I reached an orgasm that jetted the fluids
directly into the internal material of my boxers. I couldn't
resist a moan and had to squeeze the tip of my cock to
contain some of the outpour that my muscles continued to
send into existence.

I noticed that tom was helping himself along with a hand
grasping the area of cock he'd not sent inside of Mandy.
This combination of wank and thrust I could now see was
going towards helping his cause; his eyes shut tightly and
finally his breathing had broken that normality barrier.
Thankfully I could see that orgasm was imminent. I didn't
want him to see that I myself had come, so quickly wiped the
end of cock and surrounding area with a tee shirt that was
handy.  When I looked back, his buttocks were in a prolonged
clench and he was biting his top lip - an indication I was
sure that he'd gone the distance. And I was correct in my
assumption; his momentum ceased but and he lay still on my
Mandy with one leg bent upwards over her midsection.

"Well how was it?" I asked him, to try and lighten the
moment once again. He turned to face me and gave me what I
suspect was as an embarrassing smile as Tom could ever have
managed.

"Quite difficult." Was his reply, then he was up and pulling
back on his trousers before any further words were spoken. I
took the chance to do the same after searching my cupboard
for a clean tee shirt.

Once composure was regained, we conversed about the
incident. Tom was quite negative about the whole experience,
continually remarking that you couldn't beat the real thing.
He was concerned that I would be put off going through with
our arrangement, but I kept reassuring him that I wanted it
now more than ever.

"What about the object of this exercise?" he asked.

I had trouble remembering what the object had been. "Err," I
began. "You mean the differences between our bodies?"

He nodded.

"Your arse is quite like mine." We both laughed. Thankfully.       
 
The rest of the day we did spend shopping. A strange thing
for two guys to do together, but Tom's suggestion, and
original intent for visiting me that morning was to purchase
underwear for Jane to wear on the honeymoon night. We opted
for more than one outfit; not being able to make up our
minds and Tom saying that it might be nice to get a bit of a
surprise. Black and electric blue were our preferred
purchases; black all-in-one strapless bodice with a high cut
bottom-half and attached suspenders; electric blue two piece
slip and G string panties with a lacy see through front. I
had no idea which of the outfits Jane would prefer, not
having been that daring before, but would offer her the
selection to make her own choice. The last buy of a few
pairs of shear stockings forced the sales girl into fits of
involuntary raised eyebrows and no doubt presented her the
topic of conversation during her coffee break.

5 As the day made it's way closer, the usual kind of pre
wedding nerves began taking up the majority of my time. My
excessively concerned family took over the fine art of
coordinating activities. I was allowed to sit back and relax
as everyone panicked for me - but I found relaxing difficult
to achieve. I concentrated on the circumstances leading up
to now as the final countdown to wedded bliss approached. My
family and peers slung advice around in my direction;
concerned about my well being, my state of mind, my
thoughts; little did they know I was happily distracted -
concerned not for the ceremonial arrangements - but for the
post nuptial consummation. I hadn't been away from Mandy for
such a long period since she had been inflated. But when the
buzzing around had ended and the fuss and arrangements for
my happy day had passed, I found myself with time to kill. I
requested some time to contemplate my day, and everyone was
only too happy to oblige. My bedroom was the place to murder
that time and who best to be with than my air filled friend
Mandy.

My heart drummed out a heavy beat which somewhat aided in
the flow of blood towards my mid region. I found no
difficulty in spouting an instant hard on once the duvet of
my bed was pulled back to reveal the flesh tones of Mandy. I
could wait no longer, in such that my trousers only got as
far as my ankles before I was poking around in search of
relief within the shape of her rubber ringed hole. I found
the focal point of my thoughts too easily and slid inside
to. But the sliding was void of any resistance; a difference
was apparent. The friction that I was used to experiencing
was missing. I rotated my hips in circular motion to
discover just where the usual gripping edges of vaginal
walls had gone too. The expression on Mandy's face seemed to
change to one of sheer disappointment and I realised as I
stared into her gawking eyes the reason for the change. Now
that she'd experienced the sensation of sex with Tom, or
rather the difference in what he had to offer, she
unwittingly made her choice obvious. My cock was no longer
able to pass off as one fit to grace the confines of her
cunt. She's been stretched beyond my capability.

Mandy stared silently at my concerned expression. Was this a
sign that we had reached the end of what our relationship
had to offer?    Now that she'd made her choice, or rather
her cunt had made its choice as to what it would prefer to
be filling it up. My thinking veered away from the
disappointed doll below me and filled with images of Jane's
narrow vaginal walls displacing to the might of Tom's cock.
I now had a dress rehearsal for the circumstances to come.
What way should it be? This was first hand knowledge of how
Jane's expression might be on the second night of our
marriage, the night I take my rightful place between her
legs. I should take the lesson and call off the arrangement.
"What's it to be Alan?" I heard myself say aloud. I tumbled
off Mandy and landed face down by her side. My fingers
ventured unheeded between her legs; two, three, four
fingers, slipping with ease into the cavity at the centre.
My hard on remained, but was pressing gently into the
mattress of my bed. As my fingers rotated about within the
gaping hole, discovering through touch, the extent to which
it had retailored itself. Images of Jane in this very state
appeared, forcing me to up the tempo of my pressing against
the mattress. I did want to see her like this. I wanted her
never to forget our first apparent night together as man and
wife, and one way to ensure she never forgot what she was in
for would transpire by never having that performance
repeated again. I knew she would forgive my shortcomings as
long as she had that memory to cherish, at least for a while
- enough time for me to acquire the experience and control
to offer her a repeat. It didn't enter my head, as I
ejaculated into the bed sheet, that without the correct
equipment, I would be better served if the memory she got
from her night with Tom, simply faded away - but that may
just take more time than she would willingly allow me.

So to coin a phrase: "I had made my bed" was as fitting as
it could be as I literally made my bed and squeezed the life
out of Mandy. She rasped loudly, the nosiest I had known her
since we had met. My foot pressed her body, stamping to
force the air from her breasts - stamping to demonstrate my
contempt for her change of loyalty. Part of me was sorry to
have to do this, but her work here was complete although not
entirely accomplished. It wasn't her fault however; she had
tried her utmost, played her role without complaint. Part of
me would remember her with pleasure, part with pain. But I
would store her somewhere safely and perhaps someday our
paths would cross again. By then she may have forgotten her
memory of Tom and return to her brand new, untainted,
condition. I kissed the top of her folded up head, taking in
the scent that was now all too familiar to me.

6
The night before my wedding stormed by without incident. I
spent the evening in the company of my parents and their
friends and only managed a short private conversation with
Tom by telephone before going for an early night. Our final
arrangements were tidied up, both of us going over the plan
to avoid any hiccups.

"Are you still wanting to go through with this mate?" Tom
asked me before we hung up.

"God yes," I assured him. "That is the part I am looking
forward to the most."

So the scene was set, the players knew their roles - it was
merely time now that stood before the moment, oh, and the
small matter of a full-blown wedding ceremony and reception.

7 My nervousness was obvious to all - although what was
unascertained to them all was the exact reason for the
nerves. The best man - Tom - turned up half an hour late,
but was unconcerned despite the constant nagging he endured
from my parents. A limousine drove us to the church hall,
but we sat on display in the back in silence. It was when we
were stood at the alter waiting for the bridal party to
arrive that Tom whispered to me: "So how are those wedding
night nerves then?" I wanted to whisper back, but was afraid
that the guests sat immediately behind us might hear some
content of my remark. I gave him as smile and he returned a
soft nudge to my ribs, "I'm hard already," I heard him
whisper. "I can't wait to see how she looks."

We weren't waiting long. The church organ blasted out the
wedding march, I couldn't look round, but I saw Tom doing
so. "Wow," he said, probably too loudly but thankfully
covered by the chanting of the organ.

I felt a presence to the side of me as my bride to be
brushed into place. In peripheral vision, I saw a veil and
lashings of white fabric wrapped around a petite frame. I
turned and was aware of the extra inches on her height
brought about, no doubt, by high heels - which I was
unaccustomed to seeing her in. Of course she looked
different, expertly made up and stunningly beautiful. She
graced me with an almost timid smile, which was more like
the Jane I knew. From behind her veil, a cusp of hair hung
down in a prefect curl - although a church is not the place
to be thinking salacious thoughts, I envisaged her dressed
only in the veil, bending down and pointing her firm rear
towards me. This thought stayed with me even when the
minister began to talk, but then Tom intruded my reverie as
I noticed he was the reason she took up this position. I
almost missed my cue but managed an "I do" when it was
finally required. Tom handed me the ring to place on Jane's
delicate wedding finger  - it went on, but with a prolonged
effort to push it - no room to spare around the
circumference of the hole. Her finger was slightly swollen
due to the heat of the afternoon; hence the almost
embarrassing moment when I thought the ring wouldn't fit.
But it did, and with the ring - we were wed.

The reception was local, arranged solely by Jane's proud dad
who spared no expense on the plush surroundings with all the
fittings thrown in at even greater charge. He was also so
proud of just how beautiful his daughter looked on this her
wedding day. I couldn't begin to describe her dress, because
dresses really aren't my thing, but I was told it was an
original design, and with the way it clung to every
delightful curve on Jane's body, it certainly provoked the
right reaction from me. In a quiet moment, away from all the
intrusive guests, Tom gave me his overly positive opinion of
just how delicious my new wife appeared. "By the looks of
things," he said, "We needn't have bothered with that
underwear we bought. I would much prefer to see just what
she has on under that dress." I was curious also, observing
when the veil was pulled back, her bare shoulders -
obviously a strapless bra or tight fitting top just out of
display, holding things firmly and raising enough cleavage
to give us more than a moments discussion. And for one of
the photos, Jane had displayed enough of one leg to affirm
she did indeed have stockings suspended by more than the
obligatory garter belt. All in all it was a package worth
letting your imagination free on.

The newly wed Jane glowed brightly for the rest of the day.
On more than one occasion she declared her approval of how I
looked, and how she couldn't wait for out time alone
together later on. We were headed for a hotel about four
miles out of town, and no one knew this destination except
for Tom.

At eleven thirty five exactly, Tom disappeared as arranged,
with the key to the honeymoon suite in his pocket. I had
visited the hotel earlier on that evening and made all the
necessary arrangements for our booking - and of course taken
the opportunity to assess the surroundings to ensure no
hitches would surface.

At about 10 to midnight, Jane and myself began to say our
grateful good-byes to the guests. Most were enjoying the
party, and thankfully no one had questioned the early
departure of my best man.

Slightly later than planned, we were in a cab and heading to
our wedding night hotel. Sadly Jane had removed her stunning
wedding dress, but I was not disappointed with her choice of
`going away' outfit that took its place - an elegant black
suit - tight in all the right places and still carrying the
possibility of concealing stockings underneath. Her bosom
still maintained the perfect poise it had displayed earlier
in the day, so I deduced she had stayed with the same upper
undergarment. When she bent down to kiss one of her small
nephews, I caught an unhealthy glimpse down into the depth
of her cleavage. A rush of undiluted excitement rippled
through me - completely - and for the duration of the
journey to the hotel I was struggling for any sensible
conversation.

"It has been such a prefect day," Jane told me in the back
of the car. "And I know everything that will follow will
also be prefect." We embraced to endorse this sentiment, and
I was thankful that I'd chosen not to drive, giving me the
chance to relax with a few drinks earlier in the evening -
otherwise I would have been a sack of stammering nerves.

The hotel had been the only part of the total day that I had
been allowed to arrange. I had chosen well, with this being
a grander hotel than the one the reception had taken place
in. I had sold the owner his full range of lawnmowers over
the years, so he assured me I would be well looked after. We
entered the reception area to a ripple of polite applause -
befitting a place of this fashion. The owner arrived to
greet us, apologising for any embarrassment caused by our
announced arrival. He warned me that my best man had dropped
by - probably to leave a bottle of champagne in the room,
but to check under the bed just in case - so the key was in
reception. As you would expect, he made a point of not
keeping us long - allowing us to sneak off and complete our
wedding day within the luxurious surroundings of his private
hotel. I cursed Tom on the way upstairs, saying to Jane that
I hoped he'd not done anything to our room.

Inside the honeymoon suite, we quickly observed that nothing
untoward had taken place. A bottle of champagne sat on one
of the bedside tables, with a card alongside. The owner had
been correct in his assumption; the champagne and the card
were from Tom. The card read simply: To my friends DON'T DO
ANYTHING I WOULDN'T DO. From your BEST MAN.

Jane laughed and proceeded to uncork the bottle. "Let's
leave that honey," I asked her softly. "Let's be together."
She placed the bottle back on the table and stared quite
nervously at me. "I want this to be just right, " I started
to tell her. "Don't be nervous. I will go to the bathroom
and undress. If you could either slip into something in one
of the parcels under the pillow or," I don't want to put any
demands on her, so I added: "But it's up to you honey. I'll
be back in a minute. And if you like, I'll put the light
off." Thankfully she agreed to this part, thankfully indeed,
as there was no way the whole thing would work if for some
reason she fancied the idea of doing it with the light still
on.

Jane let go of a truly sexy smile, one that assured me she
was well in control of any nerves she might have had. "I'm
your wife honey," she told me. "I've been looking forward to
this for a long time." We kissed for a few minutes, which
wasn't part of the plan, and I sensed the beginnings of
arousal taking place.

"Let me depart of the bathroom," I said again, which kind of
dampened the moment that had built between us. She lay back
on the bed, looking sexier than I have ever seen, looking
more than in the mood to consummate our commitment to each
other.

"Don't be long," she whispered hoarsely. "I'll be right
under here." She pointed to the covers on the four poster
bed.

Inside the bathroom, with the door firmly shut behind me I
whispered Tom's name. He appeared, as per the plan, from the
linen cupboard at the far end of the room. He wore only in a
pair of clinging boxer shorts, nothing else. "How long have
you been undressed?" I asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I heard you coming in, so I took
my clothes off in the cupboard. But you were bloody ages."

"I know, sorry. Jane was getting quite into a short bout of
kissing we began."

"So you've started her off for me have you?" he joked,
actually rubbing his hands together. I had to admit; he
looked very calm. "You still ok with this?" he then asked
me.

I nodded. "It has to be mate. There is no other way."

I saw the light go off from under the door. "Right, switch
the light off before you open the door - and leave it open
slightly.

He smiled at this, and turned around to go.

"I won't let you down," he remarked as the light disappeared
from view.

Tom did as I requested and left the door slightly ajar. My
eyes struggled with the darkness, but I crouched down and
cast my eyes towards where I knew the bed was located. The
sound of a whisper from Jane, but I couldn't make out the
words. No reply from Tom - thankfully - that was one of the
problems we'd debated. I heard the sheets being pulled back
and the give of the bed as Tom planted himself next to my
new wife. I prayed she wouldn't sense any difference in
scent or kiss. We'd both worn the same after-shave and
deodorant - but as far as kissing technique goes, or facial
hair growth - that was a bit of a lottery, one part we
didn't practice on each other.

I could make out the sound of kisses being exchanged, and
was aware that Tom was not fully in the bed - he was seated
and leaning down to her face - no doubt his hands had
started to wander, and I wondered what she'd opted to wear
for me. Would his hands be gliding upon stocking tops and
teasing the fleshy areas above them? My own imagination was
arousing me. It was frustrating that I couldn't make out the
two of them together. A soft moan broke the silence; then a
ruffle of sheets as movement became apparent. I knew that
Jane wouldn't be forward in reaching for his crotch, for
this first time I knew she would leave me to lead the way.
There was more movement; more rustling of bed clothes, more
feminine moaning - soft delicate sounds. I anticipated that
his hands would be gliding over her breasts, finding the
nipples and concentrating some effort in stimulating them
into life. Perhaps his mouth was upon them; teasing with his
tongue - tasting the trace of sweat that remained from the
long day. She groaned again. I recognised her stifled voice,
uttering acceptance to what he was doing, urging him to
continue, daring him to go further. And further he went:
more moving about - seeking comfort to achieve the goal of
the evening. A higher pitched whine, slightly muffled, as if
she was biting the back of her hand or perhaps a kiss
persisted, a comforting kiss, dulling the reality of the
fact her virginity was about to be lost forever.

Jane's breathing was stronger now, the breaths that came
fourth between the soft murmurs of satisfaction. My eyes
were adjusting to the darkness - I would have to be
cautious, quiet and restrained. I could make out the shape
of two bodies entangled - Tom's head travelling in a series
of movements each one ending with a hesitation upon a
particular area. He'd deviated from the plan - now I could
see his head had reached her waist and was moving lower. She
cried out some further approval, and I knew where he was
exploring with his lips and tongue. That was something I
could do for myself I thought, slightly perturbed at the
liberty he was taking.

"Ooooh Alan," I heard her whimper. "Now, please now. Please
do it for me now!" Her voice raised and took on a tone that
was alien to me. The silhouette of Tom's head came into
view, broken away from between her raised thighs. He was
going to do it now - I knew it. My excitement lunged towards
a familiar peak. I bit my lip to a painful degree as I used
all of my power to stave off the inevitable. The feeling
that preceded ejaculation came upon me completely
unannounced. Eyes closed, thinking thoughts as far removed
from sex as possible. My concentration was short lived as I
heard my new wife's virginity being robbed from her. A sharp
gasp, almost a sound of distress rather than pleasure. But
the gasping evolved into a perpetual wailing - one that was
unmistakably all pleasure. The coupling taking place yards
from me increased in pace. The noise of the bed moving
caught up with the sounds coming from the couple themselves.
I was lost in a barrage of noise and dark dancing shadows,
almost distracted from my own orgasm, almost - but not
quite. I couldn't contain becoming involved in the noise of
the room by squealing my own restrained rendition. I knew I
wouldn't be heard, but still tried to contain my breathing
to a manageable level.

"Fuck! Fuck! Oh Fuck me, fill my cunt!" Jane's voice forced
these words out as if it was the most natural thing to do.
This girl, who was more at home in a Sunday school than a
marital bed, seemed to be adjusting quickly. And
accommodating Tom's cock with ease also.

I lay on the cold bathroom floor for what seemed like hours,
listening to my wife being expertly fucked by my best man
and best friend. Despite having just reached my own anti
climatic climax, I was still glad it had happened this way.
Undoubtedly we would have been fast asleep by now if I had
been the one in the bed with Jane. Now the worry of every
other time after tonight - when we made love - it would
never be the same.

"I love you," she bellowed, and the simultaneous orgasm
seemed to come out of the blue. Tom's voice was obvious to
me, unleashed for an uncontrollable moment in a series of
grunts. It was mixed along with Jane's cries of delight, so
I knew it would not be noticed as not being me.
 
A silent moment arrived between them, as the hard gasping
breaths reduced themselves to barely audible. I remained
still however, wary that any noise I now made would be
obvious. Then a ruffling of sheets startled my interest once
again, and I was aware of a figure walking across to the
door. It was Tom. He closed the bathroom door then flooded
the room with light. The fist thing I noticed was a huge
grin beaming down upon me.

"That was wonderful!" he said, I could tell he meant it, why
wouldn't he.

"Is she asleep?" was all that I could reply with.

He nodded, still lost in the process of smiling. 

"Well, we better get things back to apparent normality." I
could see that I would have to take control of the
situation. He folded his arms across his chest. I noticed
his cock, hanging heavily between his legs but tried not to
stare at the object that had moments ago made it's way
through my wife's virginal cervix.

"Alan, I mean it. If she wasn't your wife, I may have fallen
in love a few minutes ago." He stared dreamily, obviously
remembering the moment fondly. Then his cock began to show
signs of hardening again - beginning with a slight swelling
in it's girth, before the angle too a slight upwards
movement.

"Come on, come on," I urged him. "Get your clothes on and
make a quiet exit. We can't spoil things now." Great, he now
realised what the agreement had been - I saw him force
himself from his reverie and start to look lively. I waited
with him while he hurriedly dressed back into his best man
outfit.  Then the exit was made without any disturbance to
my sleeping wife.

The best part of the day began for me as I cuddled into
Jane's back, feeling her warmth and a smattering of wetness
just where I moulded my body into the shape of her legs and
rear. The bed smelled of sex, Jane's hair stuck to her neck
and back. I gently kissed her ear and attempted to join her
in sleeping. My honeymoon night was over and my new wife was
fully satisfied. Perfect.

I was awakened by the feeling of hands upon my stomach,
rubbing gently across the soft hairs - slowly working their
way down. An erection was instantaneous, almost reaching up
to meet the gentle touching of my new wife's hands - but not
quite making it. Her lips were close to my ear and she
whispered a dreamy good morning to me. When her hands
finally reached down to make contact with my straining
erection, they hesitated slightly, then continued until an
over tight grip took on an unhurried massage.

She still whispered directly into my ear. "Hey big boy," she
began, "want to try one or two of those things you
introduced me to last night?"

Before I could even think of a response to her impossible
request, her touching brought about ejaculation from my
thin, tightly held cock. I tired to stifle the obvious
involuntary spasms and twitches, but all that happened was a
shrill squeak emanated from my closed mouth. Her wrist was
the destination of the small smattering of semen that fell
from the tip of my cock. Her massaging ceased and a moment
of silence was only broken by words that would soon become
too commonplace within our marriage; "Sorry Jane."

Luckily on this first occasion, with the memory of the night
before still fresh in her mind, she made no comment and
purposefully cuddled me back into a welcome sleep. The
second failure however, this time as she guided my hands
into the moistness between her legs, I could sense the
beginning of her confusion. My fingers penetrated between my
wife's soft vaginal lips guided by her hands, then she let
go and left me to explore her innards myself. Her legs were
spread widely; my fingers pushed in deep until her hand was
back upon my wrist easing them back.

"Gently Alan," she remarked and I attempted to ease back on
my fingering. I wiggled my fingers slower, but I caught a
rough edge of a fingernail on what could have been her
clitoris. "Ouch!" she yelled and removed my fingers
completely from inside her. The moment was somewhat spoiled
and regrettably over. We opted to get up and dress for
breakfast. She viewed my nakedness as I went about unpacking
my clothes for the day. My cock had all but disappeared and
had embedded itself into the cleft between my small round
testicles. I was aware of her staring directly upon it, but
she never made comment - after all, she was still relatively
inexperienced, and she had been taken to new found heights
only the night before.

Of course we never repeated that first night performance
throughout our two-week honeymoon.  The first two nights I
made several forlorn attempts, which resulted in me either
spilling my seed before managing penetration or even before
removing my boxer shorts. So we simply gave up bothering,
and tried to enjoy our holiday together - although it
weighed heavily on my mind, and undoubtedly heavier upon
Jane's. I couldn't bring myself to make any excuses for all
of the above taking place, and Jane reverted to her previous
shyness, the memory of our perfect wedding night dwindling
and diminishing with every passing moment.

9 Tom turned up at our new homestead the day after we had
returned from the honeymoon. He could see by my expression
that all was not well and married bliss was somewhat absent
from the happy couple's aura. Jane was still unpacking the
suitcases and busying herself around about her new home.

I rubbed my brow, giving him a look that said it all. 

"I take it from your expression that things didn't go as
well as they could have." 

"Well put it this way mate," I told him. "She certainly
enjoyed her first night, the night you were between the
sheets. But now she's kind of confused as to why I could not
repeat that glorious performance."

Ah hell," he replied with an unconcealed smile. "Have you
not lived up to what I started?" He knew fine well that I
had not managed to match his display in our honeymoon night
bed, and furthermore he knew I never could. "What's she
saying about it?"

I told him about our fruitless times together then our
unspoken agreement to stop persisting with sex throughout
the remaining duration of our honeymoon. Then I swiftly
changed the subject, moving onto details about the holiday
in general.

"God, I wish I'd been there. I could have kept her lively
for it," he interrupted my spiel on the less graphic
incidents, obviously bored hearing tales of the scenery,
landmarks and places we had visited. "You could have done
all that stuff with her in the day and I could have
fulfilled the married role come bed time."

I nodded in silence, realising just how much he still lusted
after my new wife.  He was distracted by the memory of that
night. "When can we do that again Alan?" he asked me, "I
need her so much."

"Tom I think I need you to have her, or a part of her," I
replied, whispering the words, aware that Jane's footsteps
meandered just outside the room. "But I have no idea how it
could ever happen again."

"She must be starting to feel very horny," he stated,
screwing his face in concentrated thought - obviously
contemplating various scenarios involving him with Jane. He
continued: "Well either I could try and seduce her without
you being aware - from her point of view. Or you could
simply speak to her and tell her that you don't feel up to
the job on a permanent basis...there is no shame in that."

Now it was my turn to ponder for a moment. "God, I just
don't know Tom." 

"Come on Alan, decide how it would work. You know her best."

"Well maybe I could speak to her, sound out the options,
play things by ear. And if it looks like getting through to
her, I could just let her know straight."

He nodded and stood to leave. "Ok then mate, go and do your
worst."

I was on my own now, sitting with the noise from my heart
beating reminding me of the job I had to do. I decided to
leave it until bedtime.

10 I watched Jane preparing for bed, the lights were dim and
I was already undressed and hidden beneath the bed covers.
She folded her removed clothing, her small breasts sitting
delicately but still as she moved her body around. She still
had her panties on as she always did these days, and soon
even her breasts were covered over with a cotton slip before
she got in beside me. "Goodnight," I heard her utter and
then she turned her back.

"Jane, " I whispered. "Are you disappointed that our sex
life has not been quite all it might have been?" There was a
silence and I even wondered if she was already asleep.

But then a croaky but clear `yes' resounded in response. I
cuddled into her back, moulding my legs into the shape of
hers.

"Does my penis feel too small now?"   

She nodded this time.

"I know, I have noticed too." I said. "I think that after
you lost your virginity on our wedding night and I suppose
became a woman, you kind of out grew me." I began to concoct
and develop this lie as we spoke, hoping to use it as a
platform for my ultimate request.  I continued: "I have read
about this happening to couples, where they find they are
not compatible." I knew she was listening intently. "It's a
sign of your maturity and growth and nothing for you to be
ashamed about and hide from." I allowed a pause, during
which time she turned to face me.

"What are you on about Alan?" she asked, obviously curious but pleased about this new 
openness I was trying to develop.  

"The trouble is that I am not experienced enough to train your body to reach orgasm. I 
suppose I have always been a bit scared of girls due to my smallness down there. I can 
only say sorry Jane. You are a beautiful sexy woman who deserves a man who knows 
how to properly satisfy your body."

"Oh Alan," she smiled meekly. "I chose to marry you and it was nothing to do with sex."

"Yes I know, but you have to admit that now your sexuality has been awakened that it is 
difficult to subdue." 

Jane turned her smile into a frown, a concerned yet pitiful expression aimed at offering 
some kind of sympathy. "It's ok Alan, I will adapt and learn to live with it."

"No!" I exclaimed. "No. Jane I want you to have a sex life. I want you to be able to have 
your body react and respond the way you want it to and the way it should. Why should 
such a beautiful woman be left wanting?"

She viewed me, almost suspiciously - maintaining eye contact for longer than is polite. 

"Jane," I finally went on. "I discussed my problem with Tom this morning." She looked 
startled as I made this admission. "And he thinks he may be able to help."

"God Alan, this is embarrassing - how could Tom help?"

"Well he has far more experience than me and could help us."

"What are you saying, Are you just about to tell me you want to have an affair to get 
some experience? "

"No, not at all Jane, don't say that - I would never wish to do that."
"Well what are you saying then?"

"Tom would make love to you."

"Are you saying you want him to sleep with me?" She looked completely overwhelmed 
by my words.

"I think it could work out, it could be uncomplicated and beneficial to us both. He could 
in effect teach you to discover how you like being touched, instead of my clumsy 
attempts."

"God Alan what you are proposing is for me to commit adultery - you know I couldn't 
do that." She looked away from me again, this time staring at the shadows on the ceiling.

"No Jane, it would not be adultery if I knew and consented to it. We have our whole life 
to spend together, in the long run doing this would make us closer." I reached over to 
touch her body, and for once she didn't try to stop me.  I traced the outline of her breasts 
though her slip - feeling her small nipples grow erect. Her breathing grew shallow but 
noisy in the quite of the room. "He is an experienced lover Jane," I told her. "And he 
really finds you attractive and is sad that you are not being satisfied."

"I just can't believe that you told him about our sex life," she said.

"I know, it must seem weird of me, but I am so concerned about this - for your sake. And 
now that I have told him it seems like the only solution."

 "Would you not be jealous?" 

"No," I replied. "I would be happy, very happy for you to be able to develop your 
sexuality. Jane, you and I are incompatible in that way and you have needs out with my 
ability to do anything about. You know when I am with you intimately, I really feel this - 
you make me feel like a young boy, I don't know why but I sense your superiority and it 
makes me feel strange, but nicely strange you know. But it doesn't help in me being able 
to satisfy you, it worsens it"

Her hand drifted down below the bed covers and found the front of my briefs. She rubbed 
my crotch very lightly, knowing that I was hard and obviously excited. There was a small 
wet patch where the tip of my cock leaked slightly. 

"I suppose you feel like a young boy too," she remarked, a smile managing to find its 
way to her lips. He hand continued its movement upon my crotch. "Not that I would 
know of course. But I must admit that I have thought and wondered whether this was 
`mans size' or not."

Her talking this way excited me further; I could sense that natural feeling of approaching 
ejaculation sweeping over me. He hand slipped under the elastic of my briefs.

"Am I too much of a woman for you?"

"Yes," I stammered. Her fingers curled around my penis. 

"Do you like being simply a young boy with me, unable to satisfy me?"

"Oh yes," this time I groaned out the words.

"Well I think I would like that too, as long as its done properly. You would not be able to 
sleep with me anymore. I don't think I could have that kind of relationship with more 
than one man"

"Oh Jane, that would be ok, I would understand it completely." I paused and looked her 
directly in the eyes. "I want this."

"You do have a cock that should belong to a very young boy." Her breathing quickened 
as she spoke.

Hearing her say this to me, uttering the word `cock', a word I had never heard come from 
her sweet lips, made me lose what little control I had and splutter my fluid over her wrist. 

She was a bit taken aback, but continued milking my cock until it stopped twitching. 

"Gosh you do like this," she whispered, "and want to be this way."

Despite the shivers running through my calm sedated body, I nodded with eagerness and 
in complete acknowledgment to what she said. The step had been taken.

10
First thing next morning I reported the detail of my conversation to Tom. He was 
incredibly excited by the prospect. "But why would you want Jane when you have an 
abundance of women after you?" I asked him. 

"I find her so sexy," was his reply. "That night, your wedding night was the best 
experience I have ever had. I'm not sure why, but she does it for me Alan, she is simply 
the sexiest girl I have ever been with. I mean it."

I perceived by his expression and eagerness that he was totally genuine in what he said. 

"And I think she deserves to be shown how good sex can get."

"Ok ok," I interrupted his monologue. "I suppose she will be left in capable hands."

"You can count on that Alan." He smiled. "I also think that you are more of a voyeur and 
would be quite content to see the results of my handiwork."

I agreed by a slowly nodding, aware that I had developed a hard on just thinking about 
what my lie ahead if this ever got underway.

"Go home and sound her out. Make sure she hasn't changed her mind about all of this."
 
I had taken the day off work just so I could see Tom. Jane would be at home. I had to 
strike while the iron was hot - not a moment to lose. I left without another word, and 
arrived home with the same erection that had popped up whilst speaking to Tom. Maybe 
it was unfair to face her with a hard on, it may cloud my judgement, but I couldn't allow 
hesitation to ensue - I aimed to get this to happen before the very hard on I concealed 
disappeared on me. 

"You're home early," Jane remarked when she heard the front door close. She could see 
that I was visibly flushed, but didn't give anything away. She too was red and for a 
moment I wondered what could have caused this.

"I took the day off work," I told her. "I went to see Tom."

"Oh," was all her response consisted of. 

"I had to tell him about the things we spoke of last night."

"So, what did he say?"

"He is keener then ever Jane. When do you think it would be good to start this."

"Slow down, slow down - you'll give yourself a heart attack." She placed a hand on my 
trembling knee. "I'm just not sure if it could happen - you know. It's quite embarrassing. 
Tom's a friend and this could spoil the friendship."

I suddenly developed a gut wrenching feeling that she was backing off.  "No, it wouldn't 
spoil it. I will assure you of that. Please don't change your mind, you need this."

"By the look of you," she said. "It is you that needs this.

"Yes I do need this too. But it is for you, seeing you with him would give me so much 
pleasure."

"Oh, I didn't realise that were going to watch it." 

"No, I didn't mean I would watch you with him, I meant knowing that you were 
satisfied."

She grinned - which I was pleased about. It took the edge off the seriousness of this 
pending situation. 

"Phone him," she told me - a tone in her voice that was alien up till that point in our 
relationship. "I'm ready."

I stuttered out a jittery request for Tom to come over as soon as he could. He coolly told 
me that he would turn up that night and would not let me, or Jane down. It looked as 
though the erection I had managed to hold onto since leaving him earlier may just be the 
recipient of release with the knowledge that he had fucked Jane. At least I hoped that it 
would last until then.

The waiting was difficult; Jane was very calm and paraded around with a newly acquired 
confidence. I was unable to speak much about it as the hours ticked by. I lay down on our 
bed, only to be disturbed by her asking me to lie down in the spare room so as not to 
mess up the newly-made bed. I wondered about her real reason for shifting me out the 
bedroom - I wondered until I almost let go and allowed my erection to let me down. But 
with some thoughtful breathing - slowly paced breathing I held onto the erection. I 
wanted to be able to discipline myself as best I could.  

Otherwise the day went on normally, the only noticeable difference was Jane taking an 
early bath, locking the bathroom door as she did.

Tom turned up at 8pm; no wine or flowers or chocolates - no sign of romantic suggestion 
at all - just him, just the way I had left him on that morning. I was the only one that 
seemed to display any sign of embarrassment as he entered the room where Jane sat. He 
smiled and chose to sit in the seat furthest from Jane. I started some incidental 
conversation about one thing and another, wondering how things would unfold. Drinks 
were poured and consumed and not a mention so far of the intention for the evening. 9pm 
came and went - politeness all around and I strained to think how to steer the subject 
around to the issue at hand. Jane was more chatty than usual though and kept the 
calmness she'd developed from earlier.  

Tom completely controlled the direction of the discussions, ranging from politics to 
music, books to sport and then it slowly dawned on me that I was becoming less and less 
involved - they were conversing, starting to tackle all the subjects I had no interest in at 
length. Eventually I was completely quiet as they grew comfortable in each other's 
company. Tom is a well-educated individual who had no trouble offering insights into 
most subjects. I supposed this must have been his ploy - to put Jane at ease before 
moving in for his main course. 

I kept the drinks coming, and for longer periods I found myself out the room as they 
signaled the need for snacks and various forms of refreshments.  Still no mention of the 
reason for his visit.  The evening grew late, the consumption of alcohol furthered. After a 
troubled trip to the toilet, I returned to the room to find them both sitting on the settee 
together looking at the wedding photos. Jane was decidedly giggly as Tom ranted on 
about his role as best man at the wedding. Suddenly and without warning the signs began 
to show.

"Well I thought you looked incredibly beautiful," he told her. "And I think that the best 
man is entitled to that opinion." She feigned a blush and I noticed his hand was upon hers 
as they turned the pages of the photo album. 

"The best man," she repeated, still looking down at the pictures on her lap. "Now I 
wonder why he is known as the best man?" Another page was turned - only this time the 
touching hands lingered and a clasped a little tighter. "Is the role of the best man to show 
the groom how things should be?" 

Tom nodded. "I think it could be Jane, especially if the bride is unsure of the new man in 
her life." She didn't look over at me, now sat where Tom had been sitting moments 
before. Their hands continued to blend with one and another. The pages had stopped 
being turned; all concentration was on the slow controlled touching - fingers 
intertwining. A seduction was apparent, and it was being executed efficiently. My heart 
raced. 

Jane and Tom's locked hand moved off the album and rested momentarily upon Jane's 
crossed legs. I sensed their breathing soften as they both focussed on what they were 
doing. As I blinked to abate the effect the alcohol was having on my eyes, their lips found 
each other and soft deliberate kisses were imparted.  This seduction was becoming a 
more-tender occurrence than I had envisioned. 

Their lips locked, sealed beyond my recognition as to whether they were actually 
swapping tongues. I almost felt it rude to continue staring at the pair of them displaying 
such affection for the moment. But of course I couldn't tear my eyes away. Tom placed a 
hand on Jane's blouse front - teasing the opening between the buttons where I could see a 
glimpse of her soft flesh. A finger drifted in the small opening above the swell of her 
small breasts - a caressing that resulted in murmurs of approval from between their 
locked lips. Jane's crossed legs moved almost in slow motion until they were no longer 
crossed. Her skirt tightened across her hips to restrict her legs from opening further. From 
where I sat, I could see where her stockings ended and her bare flesh began - just a 
glimpse, enough for me to know that she had chosen to dress in this way, something she 
had not done for me since our wedding night.  

Tom's free hand released the tautness of the skirt wedged over her hips - sliding it in the 
direction of her slim waist and revealing a greater expanse of soft flesh. Having 
overcome the task of allowing Jane to relocate her thighs, she obliged without hesitation 
and separated them for him. A single digit from Tom's successful hand meanders over 
the pattern of a stocking top, hesitating momentarily upon reaching her bare flesh, tracing 
a pattern with slow-skilful-ease. I can sense as well as see the goose pimples giving away 
a new stage of arousal. But there is hesitation creeping into her reaction and she forces 
herself to break their lips apart and look over to me. 

"Alan," she whispers, her voice breaking up forcing her to pause and find the words to 
continue. "Would you mind if Tom and I went to the bedroom?" 

I couldn't answer, but nodded instead to make my response known. They both stood, and 
Tom led my new wife away by the hand. 

That was the extent of my involvement the first night we invited Tom to become a part of 
our marriage.

11
 "How are you feeling this morning Alan?" Tom was the first to appear, standing before 
me as I sat quietly on the couch where the activities of the night before had begun. 

"I'm happy with this - extremely." I had to emphasise the word `extremely'. Tom being 
my best friend, I felt, required reassurance that my feelings had not altered due to the 
stark reality that now faced the three of us.  "Is Jane ok?"

"Yes, but she wanted me to face you first. Alan, she is a bit embarrassed or ashamed or 
something anyway. She's very quiet. Why don't you go upstairs and speak to her, 
reassure her."

I smiled, and despite the cup of tea I had just that moment finished, my mouth remained 
as dry as it had been the whole night before. 

"Go and see her Alan."

I tightened my dressing gown around my waist and made my way, with trepidation, up to 
my own bedroom. 

The room still retained darkness, the only light from the thin portion where the curtains 
didn't quite meet. I used that light to find my way to the bed where my wife lay 
motionless. The warmth of the room heightened the scent of recent sexual activity, so 
recent I decided something must have happened within the last half an hour.

"Good morning," I whispered, as I sat on the side of the bed closest to Jane's prostrate 
shape. The covers rustled and a sheepish face appeared from under them. I wasn't sure 
whether to cuddle or comfort her, but her hand found my waist and it squeezed in 
acknowledgment of my presence. "How are..." my words trailed away as they were 
echoed by her own attempt to ask exactly the same question. We giggled at the 
clumsiness or awkwardness of the moment. 

"How are you?" she reiterated her attempt at the question.

"Jane," I captured a serious tone, "I am absolutely fine this morning. And I will be even 
better once you have told me if you are ok."

"Well," Jane paused, perhaps considering her choice of words. "I am absolutely fine 
also." Another pause. "Maybe feeling a bit out of my depth and embarrassed that we 
went through with it, but as far as how I feel - well - nice, my body feels nice."
I swallowed what little saliva was left in my mouth and was aware of that old familiar 
feeling in my loins, the excitement edged back as I conjured up an image from the night 
before. "How nice does your body feel?"

Jane took my hand and pulled it beneath the bed covers to rest on her `nice' body. "Oh 
your hands are cold," she remarked as our skin met. My hand, positioned on her stomach, 
was guided very slowly up over the firmness of her breasts. Her hand allowed me to 
dwell on her nipples for a moment. "Are you warming up yet?" The circling of my hand 
continued, controlled by the movement of Jane's own small hand.  "Did you like thinking 
of what Tom was doing to me?"

"Yes." I was nodding as I spoke. "Was it as good as you needed?"

As if in response to my question, her hand now delicately piloted my own once more 
over the warmth and smoothness of her stomach - downwards still  - reaching the soft 
expanse of pubic hair - it dwelled - the emanating warmth from inches below giving me 
the first indication of an impending invitation. Her eyes captured mine. "Do you want to 
feel?" 

My desperate need to feel the spot to which she referred was more obvious than I could 
have achieved by uttering a response.  The distance became almost endless, but her hand 
allowed me all the proof I needed as it continued to control exactly where I felt and 
ushered me to a new resting place.

And I did rest, savoring at first the source of that warmth - letting it radiate upon me. 
Then the shape, the unfamiliar contour of her womanly, heavenly lips - pouting and open 
- flushed and recently well fucked. My fingers dared to trace their outline. "Carefully," 
she whispered, and I knew now that she was well aware of how she should be touched - 
the difference between rough-clumsy-over eager fingers and the touch of a man with the 
experience and knowledge of how to prepare his woman to receive his manhood. I had 
Tom to thank for the way she felt at that moment, and it was a their shared fluids that 
now stuck thickly upon the tips of my fingers as they continued to explore.  The openness 
of her vaginal lips became more apparent - one single digit being shown the opening 
between them. 

"Do I feel the same?" Jane whispered almost unheard. "Has my cunt changed now that it 
knows what it likes?" She wasn't expecting me to answer, but the trembling of my 
missing finger gave her the anticipated response. To hear my innocent wife use such a 
vulgar word in this context was enough to answer a million questions I kept to myself. 

"I will need him again and again Alan," she told me, her voice growing louder as she 
spoke. "To keep me satisfied - Tom makes me satisfied." The words rung in my ears as 
my cock stiffened further beneath the confines of the dressing gown, rubbing as it rose 
against the fabric. I was on the verge of coming. "I love how he makes me feel." Her hips 
were gyrating upon my finger. "I love when he takes me, fucks me, makes me cum so 
hard." Her words became rapid. "I am married to you Alan, I am married to you - but I 
need him for me, to see to my cunt - to have and to hold..." 

As Jane's words changed to moaning - I was overcome by the sensation of my cock 
spewing out fluid in a rapid-single-spurt. A climax shuddered through me, contorting my 
face and betraying the condition to Jane's enquiring gaze. She knew the simple facts she 
presented to me were what I wished to hear. Her hand had already removed my finger 
from between her legs and placed it over my lap, where my cock now rested smothered in 
the result of being told how it was going to be. But I couldn't help wanting and wishing it 
to be more and more and more. 

12
Tom was intelligent enough to be able to read me like a book, and it didn't take long for 
him to realise he could have sex on tap with my new wife. I began to wonder, however, 
just what the situation would allow - he was plainly very interested in Jane, no doubt on 
that score, but he was also used to going out and doing and seeing whomever he liked. In 
other words, he was hardly going to be a one-woman-man. And would Jane be ready for 
that?

"Jane is a very quick learner," he told me when I met him in a pub after I'd finished the 
next day at work. "How long do you want me to keep on teaching her?"

I smiled in a very relaxed manner; here he was still seeing me as the catalyst for his 
encounters with my wife, when a better idea flashed up in my head. "How about you 
moving in with us Tom? Seriously. You're between situations at the moment," by which 
I meant he was not working or living anywhere of any consequence.  "It would be quite a 
normal thing for us to let out a room to you at the present moment."

I could sense he liked the idea even though a response was not imminent. He stared hard 
at me, obviously analysing the idea I had presented. "What would Jane think of the 
idea?" he asked, which was the only question he could ask given the proposal. 

"I think she would be happy with it. I don't know about you, but I could certainly carry 
on with what we have unleashed."

"God Alan, you are good to your friends. So I would have the spare room all to myself 
then?" It was a loaded question, a concealed way to ask just what the sleeping 
arrangements would be." 

I had not hesitation in answering: "You and Jane would have the master bedroom, and I 
would make do with the spare room." Tom could not avoid a smile now, a smile and a 
very positive nod.

So a verbal contract was unveiled.


13
Of course Jane had no negativity to the proposal - in fact it would be safe to say that her 
enthusiasm was the grounds for Tom's immediate lodging to take effect. Never had I 
seen her so fervent about anything. 

The next morning Tom phoned me at work to say he was taking his belongings to the 
house, but was unsure where to store them. Again a loaded question - still seemingly to 
offer me a get-out-clause - or at least allow me the decision-making and control over the 
goings-on within my own domain.  I gave the expected response, saying they should go 
in the main bedroom where my own clothes and personal items should be moved to the 
other room. Jane and I had pondered on whether to carry this out before Tom arrived, but 
our hesitation, a sign of both our insecurities as to the sanity of the whole situation, 
prevented us from going through with it. But here I was now suggesting to my best friend 
that he was one step away from being the proprietor of anything I possessed. 

On my return from work, the new shape of things was instantly identifiable. The first 
thing was that they were both not present, a note on the Kitchen table informing me that 
they were out shopping. My curiosity made my next stop the main bedroom where as 
intended Tom's clothes had taken the place of my own in the wardrobe and dresser 
drawers. The bed was unmade, obvious that there had been a recent activity between the 
sheets. My first lapse of envy, not that Tom had not long before had sex with Jane, but 
simply that two people of the opposite sex had done what should come normally at the 
start of a newly initiated relationship.  In my short time with Jane, we had never once 
been spontaneous, never even had sex in the afternoon - but here was something Tom 
had that Jane simply couldn't resist. I was glad in a way that she was at last learning 
about how relationships should be, feeling desire and reaping the rewards for her body. 

"I suppose its just like students sharing an apartment," I heard Tom say as they appeared 
an hour or so after my arrival home. They entered the room where I had the gas fire 
roaring and emitting an inviting heat. "Oh great mate," Tom smiled on seeing the source 
of warmth. "It's bloody freezing outside."

Jane carried two large plastic bags that I recognized as being from La Senza, undoubtedly 
some newly purchased underwear.  

We sat about for over half an hour making small talk and taking in a few glasses of pre-
dinner wine. Jane announced she was off to take a bath and casually sauntered out the 
room with the two plastic bags in hand. Tom and I continued the small talk for another 
few minutes before I went to the kitchen to finish preparing the well overdue dinner. The 
affect of the wine drew out a pleasant numbness on my lips and I happily went about 
chopping vegetables and busying myself in the kitchen. When everything was ready to 
cook I shouted to ask if they were ready to eat. With no reply given I wandered through 
to the lounge to find Tom was no longer there. Images crept into my head: images of Jane 
after her bath, perhaps trying on the newly purchased garments. Whether it was the wine 
or just general building excitement I realised my cock was already past the semi-hard 
state beneath my trousers. 

Silence still evident even from the bottom of the stairs, standing motionless, listening 
intently - straining to try and formulate an idea of what they could be up to. I took the 
stairs one at a time, listening all the way - giving my cock more reason to stiffen up. 
They were in the bathroom, the door shut completely - I could now hear Tom's voice 
informing Jane how good she looked. I wanted desperately to see my wife in whatever it 
was that made her look good. 

"Hey you two," I called from directly outside the door.
"Hey there Alan," it was Tom acknowledging my presence.

"Do you want to eat now or later?" 

"We'll eat later on," he replied instantly. 

There was a clumsy silence, with me still standing at the closed bathroom door, 
wondering how to proceed. My cock was not allowing me to simply turn about and return 
to my duties downstairs, it needed more - of what I wasn't sure - but it needed 
something. This certainly was an awkward situation. How could I get something out of 
the circumstance that confronted me? I went to my room, the single bed within it a 
reminder of what my married life had become. But the thoughts made me harder until I 
had no option but to sit on the edge of the bed and pull my leaking cock out of the fly of 
my trousers. My mind created welcome images for me to dwell upon, but the new 
mystery of what type of underwear Jane was at that moment dressed in eluded me. I 
looked down at the cock now grasped by my clenched fist, the head only just visible 
between the curled fingers. As I proceeded to masturbate my thoughts kept reminding me 
that I did not deserve to see however she was dressed, that, despite the fact she was my 
wife I should appreciate that she was now beyond what I had to offer her. I realised my 
place, and my place was here in the very position I now found myself in, a cock fit only 
to be touched by its owner - to be concealed until beckoned out by my own belonging 
fingers. And here was that moment. 

It took no more than seven seconds, and three pulls per second before my tight testicles 
unleashed their load onto the waiting carpet. 

I was glad of those thoughts and the realisation to accept the way my marriage had 
progressed. Jane had greater and more complex needs than I did. Tom could fulfill them 
where I could not, and I was prepared to allow things to go wherever they naturally led.

 14
"She cums very easily," Tom told me in a very dismissive manner a few weeks into our 
new arrangement. "I have taught her to enjoy her body in many ways."

"Do you think she would ever like me to visit her?" I asked him. "If you know what I 
mean."

Tom's face smiled 



Please send comments, remarks, complaints, praise, disgust, good cheer, .and whether you 
actually think there is more to life than looking after your knees. DChatterly@Simpsons.com
1999 All rights reserved ?Dchatterly

More To come I'm sure!!!

But only if my one and only reader genuinely wants to know the 
outcome of our two plucky heroes and one lucky heroine. 
 
