"Mmmm...you know, sometimes I wish your cock wasn't quite so long and thick!"
Talk about your backhanded compliments!
I looked up at my beautiful wife Liz, presently astride my hips, the cock in question buried lovingly in its favourite place. As our breathing slowly worked its way back to normal and our toes began to uncurl and relax, I rolled us over onto our sides and held her close.
"Sorry about that honey, it's not exactly something I have control over."
Liz chuckled, "I know baby, and trust me, I wouldn't want it any other way, it's just sometimes I miss.....you know."
I did know.
Now, don't the wrong idea here – yes, old Rex was bigger than most, but we're not talking mutant cock here; maybe a titch under 9 inches and thick with a head to match. I've never made a big deal of it like some guys; after all, it's not like I did anything to get it – just a lucky sperm I guess. I'm more proud of the fact that, at 47, I've lost 35 pounds, added a good chunk of muscle to my frame and can fit into the size 36 jeans I wore back in college. That took work and lots of it.
However, in the 18 years that Liz and I have been together, there's been one thing that I haven't been able to do for her in bed; something she really enjoyed before we met.
A nice, hard ass pounding.
We have done anal a few times, with varying degrees of success, but because of my size it's never been what Liz really wants. I can tell by her body language and her reactions when we are doing it, that it's pretty uncomfortable. And we've tried everything; toys to loosen her up, massage to relax her, EVERY kind of lube on the planet. Hell, if someone saw our "Toy box" they would think that we were lube testers, there must be a dozen different bottles in there. As I said, we can do it; it's just that Liz really craves getting pounded nice and hard – the kind of fucking that leaves you vaguely sore the next day. Unfortunately, all we can manage is a slow, tentative coupling that leaves her more than vaguely sore and frustrated, so we haven't tried it for a long time, but I knew it was something that she missed.
I thought long and hard (pun intended) about our predicament and all of my ideas led me down the same path.
Enter Peter
Peter Jarvis was a guy that we both knew from our health club. There was a fairly large, (20-25 people or so) loose group that had been at the club for quite a while and knew each other well enough to socialize. There were married couples, dating couples, single men, single women, straight, gay, younger, older – you get the picture; very diverse and very informal. Once or twice a year someone in the group would invite everyone over for a party – sometimes a special anniversary; sometimes a holiday. It was all very casual and relaxed which is why we enjoy the group (and the club) so much.
Peter fell into the single, straight guy category in our group. He was late 30's, had never married and, according to him, had never come all that close. The married women in the group were forever trying to fix him up with their sisters or co-workers and the single women in the group usually made it pretty clear that they would be interested in more than a friendship with him. I always admired Pete because he really seemed to have a sense of self. I recall him telling me that while he completely believed in marriage, he just couldn't see himself walking down the aisle. He enjoyed his freedom too much and readily admitted that he was too selfish with his time to get tied down. Pete had dated several of the women in the group (and let some of the wives set him up) and it always amazed me that when the relationships ended he and his former partner remained good friends – there was never any animosity.
So, with my guts churning, I dialled Peter's cell number from work, asked him if he could meet me for a beer at a local pub and left my last call that day and headed for the pub wondering what the hell I was thinking.
The churning didn't get any better when I spotted him in the corner booth, a sleeve of Tennant's in hand and one on the other side of the table, waiting for me. I'm sure he was curious why I called; we were good friends and all, but I can't recall ever meeting with him away from the club save for group parties.
"Hey Liam, how's it going my friend?" Peter greeted me with a warm handshake. "I took the great liberty of having them pull a Tennant's for you – I hope you don't mind!" he said with an exaggerated smile.
"Man, you were taking a HUGE risk there, buddy! The last time I drank one of these, it must have been, oh god, like at least 16 hours ago! I'm sure I can manage," I said with a wink and a tip of my glass – "Cheers!"
"Thanks for meeting me, Pete – I didn't know what your schedule was like", I started.
"No problem, you caught me on a fairly light day," he replied, "I have to admit though, I was a bit surprised that you weren't calling me to set up a squash rematch."
I chuckled, "Well, we can certainly do that too, but I wanted to talk to you about something else."
"Of course, what's up – nothing wrong I hope?"
"No, not at all."
God, it felt as if I had just eaten a whole box of soda biscuits. My mouth was dry, my insides were shaking like crazy and I could barely look him in the face. I pushed on, "Eyes on the Prize" and all that.
I said to him, "I was wondering if you would like to spend an evening with Liz and I sometime soon?"
"Um, well sure Liam, I'd love to – Liz is a fantastic cook and I really enjoy your company."
I could tell he was kind of confused and why wouldn't he be. I could have asked him for dinner over the phone for Chrissakes!
"Ah, well, dinner would be part of it, but when I said spend the evening, I meant, "spend the evening." I could feel the colour draining from my face with every word I spoke.
Mercifully, Pete looked at me and forced me to be more clear. "Liam, you and I have known each other for a long time. I could take what you just said many ways but I don't want to make any assumptions so you are going to have to spell it out for me."
That was enough to clear my head and quit beating around the bush. I started, "You're right and I apologize. The thing is, I have zero complaints about mine and Liz's sex life, but there is one thing that she craves that I can't give her and I was hoping that you might be able to help us out."
"What's that?" Pete said, seemingly unfazed by my admission.
"Well, the truth is, whenever we do anal, it's really not all that comfortable for her and it was something she really enjoyed before we met, so I feel sometimes like I'm letting her down."
Pete smiled, "I have to admit, that while I don't make a habit of checking guys out, I've noticed you in the change room at the club and remembered thinking that you have probably left a few women sore in your day."
So far, this wasn't the disaster that I'd feared it might be. "I prefer to think that I left them satisfied, but yeah, I guess a few have had a bit of a hitch in their step the next morning. To be honest, I don't know what the big deal is, it's not like I had anything to do with it!"
"True," Pete replied," and I have to respect you for that. You are very modest in the change room, not like Tom Pickard – hell; he parades that thing around like a trophy! But, you didn't call me so we could talk about your junk did we? Tell me exactly what you had in mind for Liz."
Again, I gulped and summoned up all my courage. "Well, as I said, she's told me that before we met she really enjoyed anal sex – and liked it best when it was hard and a bit on the rough side."
Then it hit me. Here I was giving some of the most intimate details of my life to a guy that could easily just laugh at me or worse, broadcast it among my social circle. I immediately stopped and Peter must have seen the panicked look on my face.
"Liam, buddy, I want you to know that this conversation goes no further than the two of us – I hope you know that. I have never been one to gossip or kiss and tell and I'm not about to start."
I thought back to the many times I had heard guys in the locker room trying to get Pete to talk about a girl within our group that he was dating. He would always smile and politely, but clearly say that it was none of their business. He would maintain the same attitude even if the girl left the group and moved away – he seemed to be a consummate gentleman and it made my panic subside considerably.
"I know Pete, and I respect you for that. That's a good part of the reason that I thought of you when this idea kept popping into my head."
"Oh, what were there other reasons?"
"Well, first, you are single. I have no desire to bring another couple or a married man into this. Second, Liz really likes you and I'm sure if I can ever get her to agree to this, she would feel comfortable around you and third; like you, while I don't go around checking out others guys' junk, when I've seen you, I think that you would allow Liz to enjoy herself and not be uncomfortable."
Pete laughed, "Thanks...I think! But wait a minute, are you telling me that Liz doesn't know that we are talking?
I replied, "No, because you were the only guy that I would consider, I figured that if you weren't interested, it would be a non-starter and I wouldn't even broach the subject with her. If you are interested, then I would figure out a way to approach her and go from there."
I looked him the face and said, "Well, what do you think – you interested?"
Pete smiled and replied, "A guy wants me to have sex with his beautiful wife – anal sex no less – I'd be crazy if I wasn't interested. Having said that, it's not quite that simple – mind if I ask you some questions and set some conditions before I commit?"
"Of course, I said, I would have misjudged you if you didn't."