Chapter 2
Two's a Crowd
*** Eric ***
I couldn't believe the situation I found myself in.
My wife was admitting to years of adulterous affairs with her university roommates, threesomes, foursomes, raping men, and sex far kinkier than anything she had ever done with me. She had been having sex every week with Brian and Lisa, played bondage and discipline games with them, occasionally fucked Pat while we were dating, and taken up with him again for the last month. She had been feeding me other men's sperm since the day of our wedding. She had me tied up to the bed, was gently teasing me without release, and asking to enlarge my penis so I could please her better in bed, and be more like her lover. And then, after revealing all this, she'd asked me what I thought.
What did I think? I was more turned on than ever in my life! What was wrong with me?
"Baby," I told her, "maybe I should be furious, but I am hornier about this than I've ever felt in my life."
Jill brightened, turning from being a sexual vamp relentlessly edging me to being the bubbly, twenty-something, slender brunette that I had dated four years ago.
"Oh, sweetie, I'm so glad. When you caught me, I was afraid that was the end. I really regret not including you sooner on this. I should have introduced you to my lovers when we were dating, and included you in the play. I'm sorry."
I thought about it a second. "It's okay. I don't know if I would have accepted it when I was just out of college. Now I know I do. But, I want to ask you some questions and establish some rules. Can you stop masturbating me for a minute while we discuss this? It's very distracting."
Jill giggled and pulled her hand away from my penis, where she had been absentmindedly stroking the skin just below the glans. "Wait. I want to make sure you don't go down while we talk," she said. Jill got off the bed and walked into her closet. I heard her rummaging around. I began to regret getting such a big, modern house in the exurbs with things like walk-in closets, because I couldn't see what was going on.
She strode back out with a clear plastic cylinder in her hand. "What's that?" I asked, knowing full well what she was carrying.
"Penis pump. I've been looking for a good opportunity to use it on you. This would seem to be it." Jill scooped up some of the precum leaking out of my cock and coated the first half-inch or so of the inside of the cylinder. Then she slid it over my penis and nestled it against my pubic hair. The opening of the cylinder was tapered a little, holding almost right against my shaft. The tube flared open perhaps half an inch wider than my shaft on each side. My erect glans didn't quite touch the sides, and the tip of my glans only came to three quarters of its length.
"I think this will work, despite the hair, but we are going to have to do something about that tomorrow. What do you think about waxing?"
"I have to work tomorrow."
"Call in sick. I want you smooth." Like Pat, I thought to myself. One night, after we had been drinking too much, Jill had gigglingly tried to convince me to let her wax off my chest, abdominal, underarm, and pubic hair. Jill had shared with me how much she liked Pat's smooth, hairless body, ("Like and elf!" she told me), and that all she had to wax on him to turn him back into a ten-year-old were his very hairy underarms and a small patch of golden pubic hair above his penis. I'd laughed at the time, and kept my hair on my body. Now I knew she had been serious about wanting me to be more like Pat.
"I'm going to wax your whole body tomorrow. Especially your pubes." With that, she pressed the tube down against my pubic bone and began squeezing the pump handle, sucking air out of the cylinder. A pressure gauge needle on top of the pump jumped up and settled back a little with each squeeze of the trigger. The lubricant she got from my cock sealed the edge up sufficiently to hold the vacuum. "I usually use cocoa butter with these, but your precum sure is doing the trick."
She squeezed the trigger a few more times. I groaned in satisfaction, feeling the pressure stimulate my penis deeply. Jill stopped at five psi.
"There. Isn't that beautiful?" My penis, normally seven inches long on the nose (what guy *doesn't* measure his penis?) had been stretched out by an extra fraction of an inch, according to the markings on the side of the clear acrylic tube. My glans was swollen and partly revealed, turning a darker reddish color. The foreskin covering the glans was pressed up against the sides of the tube.