In three weeks they would be headed to Hawaii. Tim was excited. He was in love with his wife, Jane. Who wouldn't be? She was the kind of woman to die for.
Dark auburn hair, long lashes, deep blue eyes that you could swim in. Her body was amazing. Although she was slim and fit, she had plump full breasts. They were heavy and full of milk. Ready for their children, he thought. If pregnant, she could easily breast feed a small village. And her ass was round, firm, forming a perfect "W" from behind. She had two dimples right above her ass, the kind that only certain women have. Tim loved to touch her ass. He loved to grab one of her tits with both of his hands, and act as if he were a small boy being breast-fed.
This wasn't such a strange act, because in one very significant way, Tim was like a small boy. He wasn't short -- no, he was 6 feet tall. He wasn't a babyface – no, he had a normal, even square, jaw, and a full head of hair. He wasn't even slight -- no, he had a nice muscular physique, and could fill out a shirt. Rather, Tim was a small boy in much more private way.
Tim had a tiny weeny. A little prick. A dicklet. Call it what you will. It was three inches... that's hard. Thickness? You might as well talk about a Twizler. In fact, one could say his penis was slight or thin. What was even more embarrassing was that when soft, Tim's penis would shrivel up, so that one could only see the tip of its head with a slit of a little peehole. It didn't hang. It poked out, as if someone stapled a little mushroom to his lower stomach. Needless to say, he avoided men's locker rooms.
His balls were also rather small -- about the size of the gumballs that you get out of the quarter machines in the supermarket. They were shy testicles. Like frightened mice, they liked to shrink up, right into his crotch. Most of the time it looked like Tim only had one ball, because the other would shrivel up and shrink into his body. A little mushroom and below it one ball in a tight scrotum.
But Jane loved Tim. She loved how he was a friendly guy, and had a good solid job. Sure, his accounting job brought home the bacon. They could afford a house and a car, and even some nice jewelry for Christmas. She also enjoyed talking to him. They had great conversation.
Of course, Tim was the only man that Jane had ever been with. They started going out in high school and got married shortly after graduation. Sure, she had heard that other men had "big ones", but she'd never seen them, and always assumed that Tim was at least average.
The plan now was for Hawaii. Boy, were they excited!
They had to get swimming suits, and went to the new mall on the West side of town. All the stores were hip and cool, the suits and designs were trendy. They found a new bathing suit/beach ware store right away. It was set up like a giant warehouse, with exposed brick walls and air condition ducts. You could see heating pipes stretching from the floor to the ceiling, the showroom was covered with mosaic tile. Overhead, large black speakers blared electronic music with a catchy beat.
They first looked for Jane. She was easy. She filled out any bathing suit. And they found a conservative one piece blue suit that barely contained her bust.
"Why don't we go shopping for you now?" Jane said.
"Sure," said Tim agreeably, "here's a suit". He had picked out some surf shorts with a Hawaiian pattern.
"I like those." Jane smiled. "What about these?" She giggled. She pointed to a pair of red square brief Speedos. She giggled again, thinking about how she used to call Speedos "ball huggers" when she was young.
"Ha ha, Jane, that's funny. I would never be caught dead in those."
"Oh come on Timmy, it'd be fun. Try them on for me. If we go to Europe, you'd have to wear Speedos. That's what I've heard all the men do."
"No way."
"Please," Jane said, "I'll let you kiss my special friends." She softly touched her breasts, and gave him a shy demure look.
"You are a beautiful woman, Jane. But no, I think Speedos are for dorks, not real men."
"Please, Timmy. I'll kiss it later," she offered, glancing down at his crotch. She rocked back and forth.
Tim paused. Jane did not like to give fellatio to Tim. She didn't even like to touch his penis. She thought it was dirty. Tim thought this might be an opportunity. He thought to himself, well I don't want to wear a Speedo, but a blowjob would be awesome! I'll just try it on, and then I won't buy it, he planned.
"Ok", Tim said.
"Great!!!"
"But I'll try the surf shorts first. Where's the dressing room?"
They walked to the back of the store. There were two stalls set against expose brick walls. Each was a typical white stall, with a swinging door and a small area behind it. Inside each was a mirror and little bench.
Both of the stalls were taken.
"I'll wait for an open stall," Tim said, "Why don't you go get some other suits for me to try."
"Sure," Jane said. She walked through the store, looking for swim trunks. There were so many kinds. Surf shorts, cut low at the knee. Regular trunk, cut a bit higher. And, of course, tight little Speedos.
Suddenly, Jane noticed a shadow around her. From the corner of her eye, she could see a large man next to her. A large black man. A large Negro. He was looking at swim trunks. Actually, he was looking at Speedos. Jane saw that there were a number of Speedos. One Speedo in particular was lime-green and was cut like a woman's thong with a pouch in front. For the ball hugging, she thought, giggling inside. Another was White and opaque, and was a little more generous in fabric. She was turned on by the thought of little bathing suits for men. The Speedos made her tingle.
To her surprise, the black man took the green pair and the white pair off the rack; he also took a blue pair. He noticed her looking at him, and smiled at her. She turned away, angry at herself for almost blushing.
The black man walked to the back of the store, where the changing stalls were. Jane could not help but notice that the black man had taken the pairs of Speedos that were marked "extra extra large" or "big and ample".
Jane shook herself. What are you doing, she thought. Get the trunks and the one Speedo and get to thy husband, she commanded herself. She regained her composure, straightened her posture and went to the back of the store.
When she arrived at the stalls in the back of the store, she was confused. They were both occupied, but Tim was not around. He must be in one of the stalls, she thought. She debated yelling his name, but she thought that might be inappropriate. Could she look underneath? She wasn't sure that would be appropriate. She bit her lip. Fudge, she thought, I'll do it!
She bent over, and looked under the left stall. That wasn't him, there were three black legs and two black feet. . . Three black legs? She took a double take. But now there were only two black legs and two black feet.
"Honey!" Tim yelled.
"Yes." Jane stood up.
Tim came out of the right stall. He had the surf shorts on. "What do you think?" he asked.
"Not bad," Jane said. "I like them. Try this on now." She thrust a red Speedo into his hand.
Tim looked down. Ok, he thought to himself, I'll do this, but she better kiss it later tonight. He grabbed the red Speedo from her without a word. He went into the right stall, and closed the door.
She heard a click to her left. Everything started to move in slow motion. The stall door opened, and the biggest blackest man she had ever seen slowly walked out. He was a sight. He had a chiseled jaw, and sharp dark eyes. His hair was slightly long and tied back. Gosh, Jane thought, he must be a model. She lower her gaze to his shoulders and chest. He was built like a pro athlete, with great biceps, solid shoulders and a slightly rippled chest. Her gaze lowered down to his stomach, which was a washboard of abdominal muscles. Uncontrollably, her mind felt her hand rubbing down this black man's stomach, down and up each of his defined abs. The abs were covered with a slight trail of pubic hair down to. . . down to . . . her jaw opened slowly, dropping in slow motion.
Between the defined muscles of his tree-trunk-like legs was something quite puzzling, even shocking. It wasn't the green Speedo he was wearing. It was what was inside, or rather stuffed tightly inside that green Speedo. Her mouth wide, Jane thought someone must have tied a large green water balloon to the front of this black man. A water balloon the size of a small melon. Only this water balloon bulged out, more like a sack of fruit than a balloon of water. The green color of the Speedo blocked any outline of what was inside the balloon. What the heck is that?, she thought, utterly dumbfounded.
The black man saw her looking at him, or rather at his crotch.
"How do I look?"
"Um. . . uh. . ." She was speechless.
"How about this way," he offered. The black man turned sideways, quickly but smoothly, the muscles rippling in his thick legs. She was not concentrating on his leg muscles. As the black man turned, the balloon pouch on the front of his green Speedo also turned to follow him, jiggling and bouncing obscenely. The pouch (is that his penis and testicles?, Jane thought), swung with the man's hips, then past his hips, then gyrated back and forth, adjusting to his new position. On the wasteband of his green Speedos, she could see the "XXL" letters all blown up and stretched out.
"It, uh, the thing looks great." She said. "Very, well, it's very, it stands out." That was all she could muster.
