This tale is a love story named after a Halloween Party which proves to be a catalyst for the development of a loving tryst into something wider and more adventurous. The story follows two main characters and their interaction with two others as they explore lots of different aspects of desire, sexuality and emotion. There is not just one first-time, there are quite a few, reflecting that for many of us there are still plenty of opportunities to be bold and try something new.
Chapter 1: Best Friend Therapy
My jaw almost dropped to the floor as the final insult echoed around my mind. Had she really just said that? Was it true that I was 'simply not big enough down there? That I'd never be able to give her a baby?'
I put the phone down in a trance as those words kept repeating over and over in my head. I had pleaded with her not to break up with me, that we could sort things out, but why had she resorted to that? That was not only the deepest cut, it was a wound for life. I slumped on the bed of my room and began to weep. I was a resourceful and positive person as a rule, but I don't think I had ever felt so sad, pathetic and alone.
After a fitful sleep, I awoke to the sound of birds and a shaft of bright sunlight striped across my bed. Her words were still there, but it was a nice day and that always lifted me. I had a lecture to go to and I had an assignment to complete, so I was going to get on with those. I tried hard to believe that she was history and I had a whole life to look forward to.
After the lecture, I met Becky who I tended to couple up with for assignments as we worked together well. As we walked to the laboratory she asked if I was OK. Despite my denials, she knew something was up and eventually I told her about the breakup. Becky was obviously worried about me, which was so nice, and insisted that I come round to her room to talk about it that evening.
If you were being uncharitable, you would have called Becky a nerd. I guess you would say it takes one to know one because I had no fashion sense at all and kept my hair in a bit of an unkempt mop! She actually had really nice mid-length blonde hair that was always in a ponytail and I had never seen her wear makeup. She floated around college in baggy loungewear and her distinctive oversize spectacles. Having said that, she had an attractive, if not eye-catching face. I had made friends with her on the first day of the course and, although we did not socialise in the evenings, we did tend to pair up and drink a lot of coffee. I think it is fair to say she was my best friend, but neither of us liked to admit it for some reason.
She let me in with a big smile and a hug before offering me a coffee. I sat in the chair while she sat on the bed.
"Are you OK Paul?" She asked straight out. "And don't lie because I will know."
I told her the details of what had happened, including that parting insult.
"Ha! I always knew that prissy little bitch Tiffany was a pathetic size queen!"
I looked up, wide-eyed with shock at both her directness and language.
"Don't you say anything to defend her!" Becky barked, pre-empting my natural instinct to blame myself. She continued. "What she said is totally unacceptable! Don't you know: it's not what you've got, it's what you do with it that matters?"
"Sort of, but it still matters doesn't it. None of us wants to be, well you know!"
"Yes, I do know. I've got no tits. I'm really self-conscious about it, but to the right person it simply shouldn't matter." My eyes widened further as she crossed her arms and peeled her tee shirt over her head to reveal a surprisingly sexy push-up bra. She fished out two flesh-coloured spongy objects and threw them on the bed before reaching behind to unclip and carefully remove the bra.
I tried hard not to look, but I had to. She wanted me to. Her breasts were small, but her nipples were large and hard. My cock responded accordingly and when I looked her in the eye I saw that she had noticed.
"Well, it looks like you're the right person. Do you like them?" She asked as she pulled her tee back on, her nipples forming dark shadows in the material.
I was still lost for words, but I could see what she was getting at. I was still not sure if this was therapy or if she was coming on to me.
"You see," she added, "no bra feels so much nicer, but looks so much worse." She gently rubbed her nipples with her index finger, as if to make a point.
I decided it was therapy and so needed to talk to her.
"I do get what you are trying to say, but it's not quite the same is it? I mean, a guy's cock is how he gives pleasure, I mean, it needs..."
She cut me off.
"Paul! You need to go on a female anatomy course. Only a minority of women get vaginal orgasms! The size of a cock has little to do with pleasure. It might give some women a sort of thrill, like 'Oooh I can take that', or so they can boast to their friends, but most women climax by clitoral simulation. Your tongue is a much better sexual organ than your cock! All your cock needs to be able to do is get in, deposit some baby juice, and get out."
I sat back in the chair. I'd not ever seen this side of Becky before. The thing was, I not only liked it, it actually was making me feel better.
"So why is it that cock size is such a big deal for guys then?"
"Err, because we live in a male-dominated society. Men have bigged up cocks forever. I mean ancient cultures even made the phallus a good luck talisman! When that bitch said that, she was stealing from your masculinity using all the tropes men have used to suppress women forever. It's pathetic and it's a lie. I bet she used to cum when you gave her oral, didn't she!"
"She didn't like that sort of thing. Said it was dirty."
"Ha! Stupid bitch."
