Feminized (bi)
"So you're Markie?" It sounded like a little boy's name the way he said it.
He was one of my wife's ex boyfriends and while my name was Mark I failed to correct him.
"Well don't just stand out there!" He let the door swing wide and just turned away.Β He wasn't taller than me, nor more muscular, nor even more handsome. What had she seen in him? I couldn't believe she still talked him up.
I followed Chet inside, not really knowing what to expect. Maddie's complaints about my passive nature had escalated over the last few months. She had changed and when she blurted out impulsively that I should take "man" lessons from her ex, I agreed.Β If this would help with her recent mood swings and general unhinged behavior I would do it.
She hadn't been serious until I said I would take the "lessons". But despite her shocked expression she decided it was a good idea after all. I would do anything to keep her so the decision was made. I called Chet and here I was at his house.Β What kind of a stupid name is Chet? Furthermore, the fact that once his dick had been in my wife's slim body wasn't the only reason to dislike him.
Sitting on the couch, while I stood awkwardly, he proclaimed it more than he asked, "So you're Maddie's new guy?" I nodded, looking around the typically messy single guy's place curiously. So this was the place of the guy before me? I'm an engineer and he's a salesman and it was easy to see that my income must be higher than his.
"You know she's a walking contradiction? Is she still bleached blonde with perky little tits?" He shouldn't talk about her that way. Sure, the platinum hair had gotten dry and unhealthy, but she was growing it out. And I loved her tiny tits despite how insecure she felt about them.
He went on gulping his beer between observations, "She wants a man's man. But then she pushes you around till you either cave or dump her. I caved for a month before I grew a pair." He laughed incomprehensibly, "Markie, change the channel to the other game. Get yourself a drink. And get back here to start your lessons."
I did what I was told then waited expectantly. Finally, looking up from the game, it was as if he noticed me for the first time, "Ok, hold your hands straight out and don't move them. If you drop your arms you'll have to take off your pants." I perceived it to be a relatively easy test of manliness. A place to start in my training.
But if I lost, well, that would be embarrassing. Not only because of the socially inappropriate exposure, but because if he was more endowed he might judge me.
Five seconds in and I was anticipating victory. Maybe thirty seconds later my arms were getting tired. How long was I supposed to do this? I figured ten minutes was fair.
I watched the clock on the wall, a minute in and it started to hurt. This was embarrassing in itself. No wonder Maddie doubted my masculinity. Another agonizing minute and the burning pain seemed unbearable. What kind of man can't even support the weight of his own arms for less than three minutes?
My arms would dip down, then I would force them back up only to find I didn't have it in me. Far too soon they fell to my side, "I give up! I can't do it."
Chet was totally engrossed by the game on tv until I cleared my throat. He looked up, disinterested, "Oh, ok, take off your pants."
I stood there in my shirt, underwear, and socks for, like, 15 minutes while he just watched tv. "Hey, Chet, how about another test?"
"A test? Is that what that was?" He gave a sigh, "Go downstairs, into the shop, grab a tape measure, come back here, and measure your balls."
I was so relieved he didn't say I had to measure my penis. So I trotted down to get it, only to return with a question: just how does one measure balls?
I was also going to have to take off my underwear to do it. So much for modesty. On the other hand, I have some good balls.
Standing in her ex's living room, I used the ruler to determine that my lowest testicle hung down four inches, the other one hung down three, each nut had a diameter of one and a half inches, and the circumference of my total nut sack was an impressive nine inches. "I'm ready."
He looked up, no doubt to examine my balls. Ostensibly to show them off, I lifted them up and out. Really, my intent was to surreptitiously
cover my wiener with my hands. I recited my measurements as I did it.
A smirk overtook his face, "You definitely need to grow a pair. You think those are a man's rocks?" Recklessly, he pulled off his own shorts, "Now look at these nads. This is what it looks like when you grow a pair."
I didn't think his balls looked much different than mine. But, soft, I guessed his cock WOULD grow bigger, and I felt both self-conscious and inferior.
"They're better. Admit it."
"I, I don't know. They look pretty normal."
"So just how certain are you of that?"
I wasn't at all certain. I'm never really certain about anything in life. So I faked it, "I think mine and yours are about the same."
"Care for a wager? And how should we decide?"
Now he had me backed into a corner. "Sure, why not? Circumference."
Chet leaned back deeper into the couch spreading his legs wider. After a long nervous minute he kinda gestured to his bollocks, "You've got the tape measure."
I stepped closer, "Wait!" He ordered.
I froze.
"We didn't decide what happens when you lose."
"Oh, I don't know. You decide."
"Fine, if you insist. If you lose it'll mean you need to grow your balls. So logically... you're logical, right? So logically, if they need to grow you have to wear a weight to make 'em bigger. And, of course, if you're not the manly one then you'll wear an old dress Maddie left here when she moved out. Unless you're afraid?"
"Um, ok." He pushed the coffee table with his foot and it skidded out of my way. He spread his legs wider so it would be easy for me to take the measurement and win this wager.
I was reluctant to handle his balls as much as I would need to in order to measure the distance around. They looked kinda sweaty. And to touch a guys testicles felt kind of homoerotic. But I couldn't let HIM measure them, he might cheat.
"Markie, you've got a lot to learn. So how low do they hang?"
For that I wouldn't have to touch them at all. I placed the end of the measure at the base of his cock and checked to see how far down they went. When I was repositioning it for accuracy my fingers did brush up against his orbs. They were smooth, and hot, and not sweaty at all - really not so bad. I muttered, "Four inches."
"Alright, the circumference now, Markie."
I had to hold them up to get the tape around them. I had never thought about how much balls weigh - they seemed heavy. I was disappointed, "Nine and one quarter inches."