Phyllis and her husband moved next door to my hubby and me, and she and I became fast friends. One afternoon, we disclosed information about sex with our spouses, and we discovered our mutual curiosity about big cocks.
We were both admitted that our husbands' weren't exactly hung. When I told her that my husband's cock was no more than five inches and kind of pencil thin, Phyllis said, "You're lucky, Dave might be four inches."
The four of us had dinner together that evening, and I cracked up laughing when Phyllis winked and asked if I would like "a larger portion." Then I asked Phyllis if she "was getting enough," and she laughed out loud. We joked about size several times, and each time we were in stitches. Our poor hubbies must have wondered what had gotten into us.
I saw her the next day and asked her if she ever looked at photos of well-endowed men. Oh yes, she told me. Her fantasy was to one day experience one of those whoppers. But we both knew that our husbands would be threatened if we told them about our fantasy.
I said, "What if we worked together on a plan?"
"Like what," Phyllis asked.
"We could pretend to work for a fertility clinic, advertise for well endowed men, and interview them privately."
"You're kidding," she said. "How could we do that?"
"Well, it's easy to advertise online. What if we created a private email address and used social media to invite well-endowed men to apply to help at an insemination clinic?"
"Go on," Phyllis said with a naughty gleam in her eye.
"If guys replied, we could interview them in an office or a hotel suite, pretend to be agents of the clinic, ask them questions, and then require proof that their cocks had substantial enough dimensions to qualify as inseminators for our clients."
"You mean, we just pretend and enjoy a cock show in a private hotel room? Would guys do that?"
"Only one way to find out," I said.
That afternoon we created a unique email address, opened pages on social media outlets, and even created a fake logo for the clinic. We composed a professional looking advertisement, clearly indicating that males would be expected to participate in supervised inseminations and that there were "certain other qualifications" that applied. We were both breathless when we posted the ad.
Lo and behold, the next day there were dozens of replies. We eagerly read the comments and decided to contact many of them. We carefully composed a standard reply, "Thank you for responding to our request. We represent a clinic that wished to remain anonymous and whose clients are very selective. Therefore, please answer the following questions. We will contact you if there is a possibility of using your services."
Attached was a questionnaire asking for general health information, height, weight, age, and "penis size in inches or centimeters for both length and girth." Marriage status was requested by not required. A photo was requested but not required.
More than half responded, but few attached photos. Not surprisingly, quite a few were married. Ages ranged from twenties to sixties, body types were varied, but we were mainly interested in the size of their dicks.
Assuming that the applicants exaggerated, we nevertheless sorted them by size and eliminated those who were too small or for other unappealing things about their application. More replied to our ad over the next week, and we gathered and culled their information, too. In the end, we made the cut-off at eight inches or a bit less if girth was exceptional.
I must say, we were more than pleased and more than aroused by our sneaky plan. Phyllis and I were nervous as we took the next step. We notified the pool of eligible willing cocksmen that they were on our list for interviews the next week.
The interview would be a first step. We would keep our professional demeanor and try to be convincing. We assumed the males were eager to fuck our "clients" and would be gullible and accept us as agents. At the interview, we would ask questions, ask them about motivation, availability, and experience. Before leaving, we would require proof of their cock size, measuring and recording the details. For this, we created a measuring scale of inches to tape to the desktop and a flexible tape for girth measurements.
If the candidate pleased us, we would invite him back then next week for a rehearsal performance, explaining that our employer and clients insisted on proof of the inseminator's ability. That's when he would fuck us.
We reserved a suite at a nice hotel the next week, and set up a schedule of interviews. On the first day, we arrived early and rearranged the living room to look more like an office, with the desk in the center with office chairs for us behind it, with an easy chair for our guest in front of the desk. On the desk, facing the candidate, we taped the measuring chart so he could see it from the outset. We printed our logo on a sign that read "Interviews" and placed it on the outside door. We told the front desk clerk to direct inquiries to our room number.
Phyllis and I dressed in business attire, nice skirts and blouses with blazers, and we were almost prancing around with nervous energy. Soon our first applicant would arrive.
There was a knock at the door.
Phyllis took a seat while I went to the door. There he was, an attractive tall man, nicely dressed, smiling and holding out his hand, "Hi, I'm Jack."
I took his hand, "It's nice of you to come, please enter and we can begin."
Jack smiled and nodded at Phyllis, and I directed him to the chair. "Can we offer you something to drink?" I asked.
We had come prepared, but Jack said he was fine.
Phyllis took out a folder with Jack's information. We both pretended to review it while jack sat silently.
