My ex-wife Lyn was and is a real size queen. We've known it since the early days of our marriage, and I think she knew it before we were married, although she never had the pleasure of "a big one" before we got hitched at age 24. She had, "a thick one," when she was 19, an older guy she met at the beach one day she went strolling there in a long romantic dress. And she lusted after the model boyfriend of a friend of hers who had told her that he was very well hung.
During the 10 years of our marriage, she had several remarkable encounters with big cocks, and after we split up she had a "wild" period where she fucked everything that moved, and there too, she had several more big ones that she told me about in detail. Lyn loved sex, and sex with her was amazing. It's just that, as she once said, "A really big one just scratches that itch I have so well."
We first discovered her desire when we were out one day riding on the streetcar, and this young guy got on and Lyn pointed out to me the long cock snaking down his thigh which was clearly visible in his tight blue jeans as he walked down the aisle. It was very impressive, and when we got home, Lyn literally attacked me, and during our quick and eager fuck, she kept talking about, "the guy from Queen Street," and we ended up fantasizing together about him fucking her. I have to add that she came like a banshee.
Afterwards we talked about what had happened, and I asked her if she had ever had a big one. That was when she told me about the older guy at the beach, which got us both horny again, only this time I slid her long thin vibrator up her wet snatch while she moaned and groaned about, "the guy from Queen Street, the guy from Queen Street." (The fact that she owned one at a time when not many women admitted to their use should have been a clue right there.)
It was clearly a big turn-on for her and not a bad one for me too, and so I asked her point blank if she would like to fuck a big one. Her answer was, "You find him, I'll fuck him," and I knew that she would.
But where to find one?
This was in the days before the Internet, and even swinger's magazines were unheard of. I took to surreptitiously checking out the guys in the shower at the swimming pool we frequented who didn't display much "big meat" except for one dark and swarthy guy who turned out to be gay, leading to an awkward moment in the shower after I had spied his big wang and hung around, and hung around some more, wondering how to approach him about the idea of him sleeping with my wife , until it was just the two of us left and he began soaping up once again, only this time with more devoted attention to his genitalia which rapidly swelled into a truly remarkable specimen: half again as long as mine and a good deal thicker too. It was the first time I had seen another male in the flesh with an erection. He was uncut too, and seemed to take perverse delight in pulling his soapy foreskin back until his big purplish knob suddenly appeared, after which he squeezed the shaft hard causing the head to swell to near plum dimensions.
I must have been staring openly at that point, wondering what damage a big thing like that would do to my wife's cunt, because he suddenly said, "Like it huh?", indicating my own boner which had grown hard of its own accord, before adding, "Want to suck it?" That shocked me into reality and I sheepishly mumbled a, "No thanks," which only made him shrug and renew his masturbatory efforts while I withdrew with a rapidly deflating but drooling cock, turning once more as he grunted and catching him just as three generous streams of jism shot from his tightly gripped cock, which was surprising, but not as much as the slack-jawed, eyes-screwed shut, almost painful look on his face as he came, which made me wonder if I looked like that too.
I told Lyn all about it the next time we were in bed, and she teased me about getting a hard-on in the shower with him while she stroked the boner I had at that moment.
She said, "You should have invited him home and we both would have sucked it if necessary. You know what Woody Allen said about being bisexual - twice as many dates!"
After which she went to work on my cock with her mouth and didn't stop until after she had swallowed my load, which left me satisfied but not her, so once again, I got out her vibrator and fucked her with it from behind while frigging her big hard clit until she came gutturally, and perhaps because of the fact that she had been relatively quiet throughout, I strongly suspected what she had been thinking about. It turned out I had had a good general idea when she told me she had been imagining the gay guy going at her doggy while both she and he sucked my cock. To my shocked look, she only responded, "What!" before spreading her legs and telling me to eat her dripping cunt.
What else could I have done? An hour later as a result of my trusty cock and her ever-hungry holes (and the plural is intended, as she even had me fuck her ass while she toyed her snatch) both she and I were thoroughly sated, but I was left suspecting she wanted more, probably because of her , "Fuck me boys!" cries during the ass-fuck.
The "more" provided itself almost by accident one day when I went to our bank on Queen Street and who should I see in the line-up but the young guy from the streetcar. I got in line behind him and watched as he nervously fingered the few banknotes he had in his hand. When it was his turn, and after he had deposited the money, I saw him looking forlornly at his bankbook. I skipped my turn and caught up to him as he went out of the bank, and the only way to stop him I could think of was to say, "Want to earn some money?"
He stopped and turned to me. His quizzical face looked even younger than I thought. He couldn't have been much older than 18 with still a pimple or two even. I mumbled an excuse about seeing his sad look in the bank, and thinking he could use some work. When I mentioned 20 bucks for helping me with something at home, his face brightened, and he said, "Sure. When?"
I said, "How about right now?" and he answered, "Sure, I finished school for the day, and my Mom doesn't expect me home until six-ish."
I gulped when I heard the word school, but then my convictions were renewed when I caught sight of the bulging groin region of his dung-a-rees. I thought anyone with a dick that big is a grown-up in my books.
I said okay to him, and added that I had to phone my wife to let her know. Lyn was an artist and worked in her basement studio all day so I knew she'd be home.
There was a pay phone next to a convenience store near the bank, so I called her, telling her in shushed tones that I had found the guy from Queen Street and that we were on our way over.
She answered, "No way!" Then there was a long pause after which she added, "Do you really want to go through with this?"
I said, "Yes, do you?"
Her answer was, "I'd better have a shower then."
During our short walk home, the kid, his name was Brian, quizzed me about the work, and I vaguely answered that it was something my wife needed done, which seemed to satisfy him, and we chatted idly about his school life - grade 13, definitely not an "A" student - until we reached our townhouse.
I let us in, and we were greeted by a very dolled-up Lyn in the middle of the front room. She rarely wore make-up but she had put on plenty and it made her look a little whorish. As well, she had on a shrunken orange top that she sometimes worked in that left her mid-riff bare and had a strong tendency to show off the lower third of her perky tits (which were braless and obviously excited judging by her protruding nipples). To complete her killer ensemble, she had on her high-heels which only added to her 5ft 9inch height, and the shortest mini-skirt I ever seen on her. I didn't even know she had one that short. Her long lean legs just went on for days.
She gave me a big kiss, which distinctly tasted of weed, then put her hands around my neck, drawling a breathy, "How was your day honey?" At the same moment, as she was well aware of, she offered Brian, who definitely looked, her half-exposed titties.
"And, hellllloooo you," she said to Brian after disengaging herself from me and turning to face him. "I'm glad you both could come," she added as she stared openly at his crotch. "Maybe a drink before the work, huh?"
"Sure thing, thanks," said Brian shifting uncomfortably under her gaze, until he turned away, feigning interest in one of her artworks so he could adjust himself.
"Beer," asked Lyn?
"Oh no, I'm not of age," replied Brian, and we could both see his cock beginning to snake down his trouser leg.
"Reeeeallly! I could have sworn, "said Lyn rather obviously. "Lemonade then!"
And off she went to the kitchen.
We sat down on opposite sides of our low coffee table, and there was an awkward silence until Lyn came back carrying a tray loaded with 3 tall glasses of lemonade and a bowl of sugar.
She went around to Brian's side of the coffee table and because of her high heels she had to bend way over right in front of him to place the tray on the table. I saw Brian's eyes bug out, and dart from side to side nervously, before returning to what had caught his eye, as Lyn spooned 3 spoons of sugar into his glass. Then she stirred it slowly, humming "Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down" as her hips rocked to the rhythm, and it obviously had mesmerized Brian.
Then she straightened up and offered him his glass, before squatting down, legs spread, and revealing to me under her short skirt, the reason for his interest - she wasn't wearing any panties, the slut!
She straightened out her legs but stayed bent over as she continued to prepare our lemonades.
"Sweet enough," she cooed to Brian, whose eyes had returned to where they were transfixed before, only this time her deep squat had caused her skirt to ride up on her hips, and her legs were now apart to boot..
I had to know what he was seeing, so I got up suggesting I put on a little music.
The stereo was behind them, and as I fiddled with the controls, I glanced over my shoulder discreetly, not wanting to break the mood.
As I thought, her mini skirt had ridden half up her ass, and her entire fat-lipped pussy was exposed. I could even see that by the way her top hung down; he could have a good look at her tits if he wanted.
She took her time stirring our lemonades, and I even saw Brian sneak a look at her tits.
I took my place once again, after taking my glass, and Lyn sat down next to Brian on the sofa.
Suddenly she exclaimed, "Oh my God, are you okay?" She was staring at his trousers tenting out.
"Is anything wrong? Is that normal like that?"
"It's okay. Sorry. I'm okay, it's just..." mumbled Brian, obviously embarrassed and feeling confused.
"Don't worry," said Lyn, "as long as it's normal."
"Yeah, it's okay, honest, it's just you're so hot and all..."
"Did I do that," asked Lyn, "oh my! Were you looking at my ..."
"I couldn't help it. Sorry Ma'am. Sorry Sir. It was just...there!"
"I don't mind. Do you mind honey," she inquired of me.
"No I don't mind. It's yours to show off," I answered, taking a sip of my delicious lemonade.
"And have you seen one before," asked Lyn of Brian?
"Sure, a couple of times, girls at school, but they always get scared when my thing swells up."
"Well I'm not scared, as long as you say it's normal. I don't know, it looks like something's wrong with it."
"Yeah well, something is wrong with it. It's huge, that's what's wrong. The guys in the locker room make fun of me. They call me Donkey Dick. And the girls won't touch it. It's always getting in the way. I hate it. I can't even talk to my Mom about it."
It was sure it troubled him greatly. He was almost in tears.
"There, there," said Lyn, pulling his head to her breast. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you show it to me and I can make sure that everything is normal. Would that help?"
"I don't know. I guess so, maybe."