"Now I'm not going to lie to you, if Mike's penis was only two inches long I'd have never married him. But he's average and I'm satisfied. The truth is every woman wouldn't mind if their husband was just a little longer or a little thicker. It's human nature to want more. I drive a very nice Toyota Camry but I wish I were driving a Lexus. But my Camry's got heated seats and I like it just fine. I love Mike and that's really the most important thing..." Connie concluded.
"I dated a guy once on the football team in college," Brenda continued. "A big guy, a lineman... He was a full eight I'd guess, and thick, too. And I'm not going to lie, it was exciting... exciting to look at and exciting to play with! I was soaked with anticipation, and then when he actually started to penetrate me the reality set in..."
"It was painful, and to his credit, he took it slow and was gentle. Quite frankly, it wasn't as great as I thought it was going to be and I was sore for a whole week afterwards. Now, was I happy to have that experience? Absolutely. Would I ever want it again? No way! I satisfied my curiosity, and as I told you last lunch, I want sex all the time. Sam is just average size and he fits me perfectly. There is no pain, no recovery period, he hits all the right spots and that works very well for me," Brenda finished.
"To me, size really isn't all that important," Connie blushed. "I can work with just about any size. What's important to me is a man's tongue. If he cannot lick me to an....an.....orgasm...he's simply not a keeper. I'll take oral skills over a big penis any day!"
"Anyway, guys who are average size tend to try harder. Their insecurity works to their advantage because their effort and enthusiasm really comes through. I like it when a man is giving me his best to try to please me... Makes me feel special....that I'm worth his effort."
"Jerry..." Brenda said, "We've all seen the bulge in your pants, and I feel relatively safe in stating that I don't think size, of lack of it, is something that you have to worry too much about."
"You know, I simply don't understand why husbands get stupid this way, asking stupid questions. Why go looking for trouble when there is none? Tell Karen every chance you get what a big penis you have. Positive reinforcement! Make her feel good and lucky to be with you..." Abby chastised.
"Besides, is any wife who chooses size over true love really worth growing old with?" Brenda rhetorically questioned.
"So does that ease your mind?" Abby asked.
"So is that REALLY the truth?"
The girls rolled their collective eyes and groaned, and then asked me how the maid that they recommended was working out. I told them that Karen thought she was working out just fine.
Being the day before Thanksgiving, we parted wishing each other a nice holiday. We were not expected back to work until the following Monday...
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At 3:00am Thanksgiving morning the alarm went off in our bedroom, and Karen and I rolled out of bed to start making our traditional Thanksgiving baked sweet potato dish for her church's midday dinner to the economically less fortunate and elderly. Or typically, rather, Karen prepared the food and I assisted, however, in light of my newly discovered cooking skills, I doomed myself to greater participation this year.
Karen was a very active member in the church. From early childhood, all throughout her formative years through Sunday school and vacation Bible school, it was central to her life. Even in the rebellious teen years, and as a troubled young adult, she never lost touch with her religion and her faith. She always believed that her God would deliver her to a better life. And as any Jayne would tell you, the story of our courtship could only have taken place through some kind of divine miracle. To my wife, her faith was at the very core of her existence and her church was the house of the Lord.
I, however, considered myself more a spiritual person than someone defined by any particular religious faction. Sure, I believed in God, I mean, who could look at sunrises and sunsets, or the miracle of your children being born and not believe there was something greater out there. I may be a sixty watt light bulb in a world full of hundred watters, but even to my simple mind, God existed and was very real.
But it was also my strong belief that God was just as easily talked to while walking in Penn's woods or standing on top of a mountain. I certainly didn't need a damn building to speak with God!
These convictions were born out of watching all the hypocrites on Sunday morning at the church my parents took me to as a youth. It always sickened me to watch my friend's fathers and mothers act like total idiots six days a week, only put on their best clothes and confess their sins in great theatrical fashion, then turn around the following day and start acting immoral all over again. They used the church to cover their asses, and it turned me off to the organized part of religion.
But because I loved Karen so much, I acquiesced to getting married in her church all those years ago. Heck, I would have jumped into the fiery pit of Hell to be with her! And through the years, I continued to accompany to her regular Sunday morning services. It is the small price that you pay when you are in love.
And the truth is that Karen's church has a lot of good people attending, and their Thanksgiving dinner was certainly culinary proof that the congregation didn't just talk a good game. They really did help a lot of needy people in a very Christ-like fashion.
Sweet potatoes a la Karen are certainly easy to make. You just had to make sure that you had plenty of butter and brown sugar along with two special ingredients, cinnamon and tarragon. For seven straight hours we kept feeding lasagna sized heavy duty aluminum foil trays into the oven. At 11am we loaded up the trunk of the Fusion and drove over to Karen's church.
To see the faces of the less fortunate, as they feasted on some very tasty food, certainly warmed our hearts. To look into their eyes, and simply convey the message that we were all human at the most basic level, was always a positive experience for us. As Karen and I held each other in bed later that night, we both realized how fortunate we were, both economically and emotionally, and the true meaning of Thanksgiving overcame us.
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But as typical in America, consumerism can rapidly push aside the good feelings of the previous day, and Black Friday morning I found myself standing in line at Best Buy. Karen's cell phone battery had died, and since our two year contract had expired, it seemed like an appropriate time to upgrade our outdated flip cell phones to something a little smarter. For me, I probably should have considered a Jitterbug, since my eyesight was rapidly getting worse, but our boys had convinced us to get something on the cutting edge. God only knew who was going to teach us how to use the damn things!
I stood in line, even after doing hours of on-line research, not knowing what to get. An iphone or a Galaxy? I was going to surprise Karen with my selection, but then I remembered I was married! Buy the right phone and I'm a hero, buy the wrong phone and I'm sorely lacking in communication skills! In the end, I did what any smart husband does, and stuck a couple of hundred's in an envelope for Karen to choose for us. I really didn't care, a phone's a phone, and making my wife happy trumps any technological differences. I decided we would go shopping together when she got home from work.
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Knowing that we had plenty of leftover food from the Thanksgiving dinner, I decided to spend the rest of my Friday doing a final leaf clean up in the yard. Your mind tends to wander while performing this yearly task and riding around on the John Deere, I have frequently solved the world's problems. There is something about cutting grass and mulching leaves which lends itself to reasonable thought and reminiscing. Be it the roar of the engine or the smell of the gasoline, I have always been able to work things out in my mind.
I have always thought that the President should spend an hour every week cutting the White House lawn. Perhaps things would be better in this county. But then again, solving problems on either side of the political fence is about more than having the answers...
My grandfather, God rest his soul, used to love cutting the grass so he wouldn't have to listen to my grandmother bitch and complain. When he retired, he'd be on that tractor for eight hours each and every day the sun would shine. He always told his wife that he wanted the best looking yard in the neighborhood. He would just ride around all day and be happy. Every night he would get down on his knees and pray it wouldn't rain. He's the only man I ever saw buried with a green and yellow John Deere cap on his head.
But on the day my grandmother died, I held this old man in my arms while he cried like a baby. His life was never the same. He would often just stare out the window as the grass grew high in the yard. Many months later on the day he took his last breath, as I was holding his hand, he had the greatest smile I had seen in years plastered on his shallow yellowish face. "I love you, Pap." I spoke in his ear, tears running down my cheeks. "Don't cry, boy," he whispered back. "I'm going to see your Grandma, and I hope she has a nice peach pie waiting for me..." Even though his body had failed him, he was lucid enough that I always assumed that his final words to me had more than one meaning.
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As the afternoon quickly evaporated, I saw Karen's car pull up the driveway and waved to her as I was finishing the last of the cleanup. She waved and beeped the horn back at me as she pulled in the garage. About an hour later, my ears still buzzing from the roar of the tractor's engine, I wandered into the house, dusty, dirty and badly in need of a shower.
Karen emerged from the bathroom in her favorite jeans, the ones that shaped her ass perfectly and were a dazzling shade of sky blue. She wore a white semi-sheer ruffled blouse and you could see the outline of a black lacy push-up demi bra underneath. The top two buttons were open and she was sporting some cleavage. Topping off the outfit was a pair of three inch white satin pumps. She looked hot!
"Are we going out tonight?" I questioned, temporarily forgetting my plan for us to go pick out new cell phones.
"No, baby.... We aren't..... But I am."
