Author's note: I haven't submitted a story in a while. One reason was a recent submission by another author had a similar plot beginning as this story does. This is my contribution to the small penis genre of stories. I hope you find it different than the others and hope you enjoy it.
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JACK
Seven years. That's how long my beautiful Jill and I had been married. Until 'that' night, I would have put the success of our marriage against anyone. We were both attractive and dated a lot of people in high school and college. By the time we found each other in college, we had an idea of what we wanted in a spouse. It did not take very long for us to realize we loved each other very much. Early in our marriage, we resolved to discuss any problems as soon as one of us became aware of one. That led to some tense discussions, but it always made our marriage stronger. I thought we both believed that communication was the key to a successful marriage.
At the time of the now infamous cookout, I was about to get promoted at work. That was significant because the increase in pay would be the last piece to the 'having children' puzzle. I was sure Jill would be a great mother. I was definitely looking forward to becoming a father and praying I would be a good one.
If you were to ask me about a 'weakness' in our relationship, I would have said it would be Jill's behavior when she drank too much. Everyone has a 'filter' in their brain that causes most people to hesitate before saying something so as not to insult someone else by mistake. Alcohol shuts that filter down in Jill's brain more so than others. As a result, I began to 'babysit' Jill when we were at parties. Jill always discounted my concern saying that she never 'did' anything that bad. If she said something inappropriate, I was not to worry. Everyone understood it was the alcohol talking, according to her. In addition, there was a problem concerning how she felt the day after drinking too much. She was totally worthless the next day and half worthless the day after. Monday morning took a gallon of coffee to get her bearings. Not the way I wanted to spend weekends with my wife.
This particular night our marriage life changed, I had decided that I would pick a time to take Jill home before she got too sloshed to make statements she would regret and/or have a bad hangover. It was harder to do than I thought. The event in question was a Saturday night cookout at the Chandlers. She seemed to be drinking responsibly and mingling with the guests. That caused me to let down my guard. Then, I got distracted by some sports arguments about whose college team was better. When I realized it had been a while since I had seen Jill, I went looking for her. I was told she and some other girls had gone to check out the new bedroom suite the hostess had recently bought.
I went upstairs and quickly heard female laughter. It was coming from behind a door I assumed was the bedroom in question. I was about to knock when I heard one of the women say, "If you want a big dick, you need to see my Ronnie. I swear it's nine inches long and plenty thick. Believe me, you know you've been fucked when he's through with you. And in case you're interested, I have a 357 magnum and I know how to use it." The women all laughed.
I decided to listen for a while longer. Now I wish I had not. I heard my wife say, "God, I'd like to try a big dick, at least once. I love Jack and all, but I get tired of faking orgasms. It's just that he has such a dinky dick." The women all laughed again. That was all I needed to hear. It certainly was more than what I wanted to hear.
Jill and I had an agreement I thought was sacred. We agreed to talk to each about ANYTHING that was important, and not share with others unless we both agreed. She had just provided me with the evidence that she no longer wanted to honor our agreement. By telling her friends about my lack of sexual size and skills, I was sure RESPECT was no longer alive in our marriage - if it ever was.
I got in my car and cried as much or more than at my grandmother's funeral, the only other time I had cried as an adult. It wasn't like I purposely neglected growing a bigger dick to deliberately lessen her sexual pleasure. What I have down there is what I have, and she knew that before she married me. My immediate reaction was that my marriage was a sham. If she could find a lover with a bigger dick, I would be history as a husband or be made a cuckold. Thank goodness I found out I was lacking as a husband before we had kids. I did not want to share parenting duty with a wife who felt she lacked something in her husband. I left the party, drove home, and packed a small suitcase. I left Jill a note.
JILL
I was having a good time with the other wives at the cookout. It took a while to get away from Jack's 'good-time killing' supervision. Once we got away from our husbands, I don't know who started the conversation about men's penis sizes, but it got really raunchy. I got tired of hearing the other women brag about the large penises their husbands had. I couldn't legitimately try to make it seem my husband had a big dick. He didn't. Maybe four inches long and so-so on thickness. But, honestly, I didn't really care that much. Jack MADE LOVE to me and I enjoyed our time in bed together even when all we did was snuggle. I guess I got carried away wanting to be involved in the conversation and trying to make the others laugh. I told myself there was no reason to worry. The girls knew not to repeat anything I said about my husband's penis. Or so I thought.
I went back downstairs at the Chandlers' house and looked around for Jack. No sign of him. I assumed he was either in the bathroom or was involved in some stupid sports discussion. I continued to mingle and drink. Before long, I realized I had reached my limit. I asked for help in finding Jack. No one had seen him lately. I checked the ground floor of the house and then the back yard. Finally, I went out front to see if he might be on the porch. Still no Jack. I looked for his car to see if he was waiting for me. His car was not in the spot where he parked. I looked at all the cars in case I had not remembered correctly.
Now I was pissed. How could he just leave me here without telling me? I looked at my phone for a voice mail or a text. Nothing. I called him on his cell and got his voice mail. I left a message all right, "Jack, you asshole! Get back over here and pick me up, NOW!" I waited for over a half hour. Since the party was breaking up, I asked for a ride home from the Sanders who lived down the street from us. I was having trouble deciding whether to cut Jack's balls off that night or wait until the morning.
When we pulled up to my house, I saw my car where I had left it, but Jack's car was not where he normally parked. I hoped he had gone back to pick me up at the Chandlers' and find out that I had already left. It would serve him right. I went in, took some pain killing pills, and headed for bed. I planned on ripping Jack a new one in the morning.
It was pretty close to noon on Sunday before I woke up to Quasimodo playing the cathedral's bells in my head. I looked over to see Jack had not slept next to me last night. I figured he slept in the guestroom and was pouting. Tough shit. I staggered downstairs, praying that Jack had been good enough to have made coffee for me. There was no evidence that anyone had been in the kitchen this morning. Asshole! He knew how much I needed coffee after drinking the night before. I staggered into the kitchen intent on making some coffee. Believe me, it took all my power to concentrate on completing that task.
When the coffee was ready, I added the artificial sweetener. Then I toasted an English muffin and put some cream cheese on it. I didn't want to eat, but I knew I should. It was when I sat at the kitchen table that I saw it. A piece of yellow legal paper. It was a note from Jack.
"Jill: I got a call last night from my boss. I am needed immediately at our Detroit office. I tried calling you, but my phone wouldn't work. I should only be gone a few days.
Jack."
No 'Dear Jill.' No 'Love, Jack.' How come his phone worked to get a call from his boss, but stopped working when he supposedly tried to call me? Jack was not acting like the Jack I had been married to. He would never have left me without seeing me face-to-face and kissing me good-bye. We always did that. Maybe Jack had changed, and I hadn't noticed.
If Jack had changed, what could explain his new behavior? The first thing that came to my addled brain was that Jack might be having an affair. I really didn't think it would be possible, but it hurt me to think of what he might be doing with some other woman. Then I thought of what I would do to him if he was cheating on me. This was the first time in our marriage a really negative thought about Jack had come to my head. I couldn't think very hard because of how badly my head hurt.
JACK
I headed for a motel with cheap rates. They were surprised I wanted a room for more than a few hours, much less a couple of days. I just wanted enough time to find an apartment I could afford. I got rid of my old cell phone. When I got a new phone, I called my parents to tell them what was happening and give them my number, not to be shared with ANYONE else, especially Jill. They counseled me about reconciling with Jill saying she was probably drunk and didn't really mean it. I told them that right now I couldn't see me living with a wife who had such little respect for her husband to shame me in front of her friends, regardless of the level of alcohol. At the very least, I needed some time away to cool down.
I stayed in the room through Sunday spending most of my time planning what I would do Monday. The note I left should buy me a few days before she realized I was gone for a reason other than a business trip. I got almost no sleep that night. Memories of seven years of a great marriage were losing the battle with the fresh memory of one night's betrayal.
On Monday morning, I called my boss to tell him I needed time off to take care of personal business. I was surprised that he refused to let me do anything until I talked to him face-to-face. Reluctantly, I agreed.
I was surprised at what he had to say. "You know, we've had continuing trouble with the Phoenix office. The former director resigned, and the assistant director is barely holding it together. I need you to go take over until you can bring the assistant director up to snuff. I anticipate it taking 60-90 days. I hate that this has to happen when you have troubling personal problems, but the company and I really need you to go to Phoenix. What do you say?"
I thought about it. All of a sudden, I realized this could be turned to my advantage. I offered to head to Phoenix as long as I had time to take care of some personal problems first. He agreed to 48 hours. I told him to buy the plane tickets and get me an apartment or motel room in Phoenix. He added that I would have a nice per diem and a bonus.
Jill had called soon after my office had opened. She was told by my secretary that I was in Detroit per my instructions. Jill was told that I had left a message I would be home by 8:00 on Thursday night.
I met with a divorce attorney and, given my upcoming trip to Phoenix, he suggested a 90-day legal separation with the option to divorce in 60 days after. The 50/50 sharing of household expenses and division of assets would not be a problem. I would not offer alimony because of the disrespect. He said he would try, but she would probably get some alimony. He also warned that marital counseling might be ordered especially since there was no allegation of adultery. I instructed him that there was to be no contact between Jill and me before the end of the 90 days. Her lawyer and my lawyer could talk all they wanted. The bank took care of putting half of their assets in her account and transferring the other half in my account.
Soon I was on my way to Phoenix. On the flight there, I wrote my script for my coming phone call to Jill. Then I had to block out my personal life to be able to deal with the mess in Phoenix. Peoples' jobs and millions of dollars of the company's money was at stake. I had to be on my game. Easy to say, difficult to do.
I spent the first two days just watching the office operations and going over statistical data. Then I took the Assistant Director around with me to get her to analyze what was, in her opinion, going on. I wanted to see how well she and I agreed on what needed to be done. I was not impressed with her analysis.
Thursday night came and I pulled out the script and called Jill.
THE CALL
"You son-of-a-bitch!"
"Hello to you too, Jill."
"Don't even think you're going to get away with the shit you've pulled. Leaving me at the party, taking off probably to be with your girlfriend, faking phone problems . . . Hello? Did you hang up on me?"
Five minutes later, Jill's phone rang again. "You asshole. Hanging up on me. I'll nail you to the wall. You . . . you. Did you hang up again?"
