As I looked at my future wife, I contemplated the events of the last four years.
The changes all seemed to begin during the last few months of high school. I was a sort of nerd at the time. At 6'3" with a muscular build and good hand eye coordination, you would have thought I was a super jock. In my freshman and sophomore gym class I could easily hold my own with the varsity players. But I had no great love of sports for several reasons. I finished all my physical education requirements in the first semester of my junior year. Thank god! My build came from daily workouts and working at my father's construction company during the summer and school breaks. The nerd part came from an extremely high I. Q. and my love for books and learning in general. I was happiest away from crowds and learning something new. I could have finished high school early, but my parents did not think it was a good idea. I did, however, take quite a few college level courses offered at a nearby high school with an accelerated program. In the end it all worked out, I received a full scholarship to one of the best high level universities in the state.
My parents were great. Always there for me and encouraging me in whatever I wanted to undertake. Even though the coaches hounded and sometimes tormented me to participate in sports, my father never pushed me in that direction. I think he knew something was bothering me in that area. He was one of those rare dads that just wanted me to be happy, as long as I worked hard at it. That was more than great with me. It seemed very few people understood me. One of the things that turned me off from athletics were the remarks and laughter generated from the constant stares. At the time I believed I had a physical deformity, not realizing the future benefits.
I had an oversized penis. Not the monster 14" one displayed in adult movies, but a 9" thick headed cock that hung over one of my other major problems. My balls were huge. The size of two tennis balls. They dangled from a massive sack swinging between my legs. Not only were they embarrassing, but they were a source pain and discomfort. They were always being pushed and squeezed throughout the day. I finally developed a method of sitting down that eliminated any sudden squeezing. I also could never cross my legs as that was just asking for trouble. In addition to their freakish look they created another one of my perceived problems. My cock spurted cum like a fire hose in more ways than one. The first phase, as I called it, was eight or nine huge blasts of cum that would sail up to my face if I was lying down. The second phase was a steady leakage as my cock deflated. It leaked out like ketchup from a bottle lying on it's side. Eventually the amounts were the same. I could fill a good sized coffee cup with molten hot jizz. It was so bad the only place I could jerk off was in the shower. The mess was too much to hide from my mom anywhere else.
Being somewhat depressed over the situation, I went to my dad and asked his advice. He was very understanding about the problems. I told him no girl would touch me now because word had gotten around about the only hand job I ever received. I came so much she had to stop at a girlfriend's house for a change of clothes before going home. No one wanted to risk that and I was taboo in the dating world. Imagine my surprise when my dad smiled, leaned over, rubbed my head and said.
"Don't take it so hard for now. Someday you'll find a woman just like your mother."
He shook his head and chuckled as he walked away. I thought about what he had said. Then I realized I had never seen my father cross his legs. I wondered.
In October of my senior year there was an accident at one of the construction sites. My father was hurt. He pulled through with flying colors and had no apparent physical problems except a slight limp. Mom and he decided to sell the business and retire early. I thought the accident put some sense into them. My dad did not have to work. The company was extremely successful and had a sterling reputation. The offers came in fast and furious. Eventually three of his employees purchased the company for $11,000,000. They the house on the market and it was gobbled up just as fast for a fantastic price. My parents were set for life. It couldn't happen to two nicer or more deserving people. The only problem was me, they had to be out of the house about six weeks before school ended. Even though I had way more than enough credits, I had to finish two courses that required attendance.
The problem was solved by our next store neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Watson. I had known them almost my entire life. Mr. Watson was kind of a stick in the mud that worked ungodly hours. He was highly successful and I'm sure pulled down the high six figures. Mrs. Watson on the other hand was another story. She was fun, intelligent and quite good looking for her age. She was about three to five years older than my mother. They were the best of friends. You rarely saw one without the other. My mom spent many hours at their house keeping Mrs. Watson company while her husband was away on his long business trips. They had two kids older than me that had moved to the west coast.
So it was decided that I could spend the last few weeks at their house. It worked out well as Mr. Watson would be gone the entire time and I would fill in for mom keeping Mrs. Watson company. After graduation I would be staying with my widowed aunt who lived close to the campus I was going to attend. She had no kids and there would be no cost as she was filthy rich from insurance and investments.
Everything was falling into place. Dad gave me his 53 Chevy convertible. They opened a checking account with more than enough money to last until I saw them again, Thanksgiving. After a tearful goodbye, they headed off to Florida. It was then that I realized how blessed I was to have them.
Staying with Mrs. Watson was the real beginning of the roller coaster ride to adulthood. I found she was a super lady, extremely attractive and kept herself in very good shape. Mom and she worked out on a regular basis. She was maybe six or seven pounds over weight. It looked good on a lady her age, giving her ass a well-rounded look and emphasizing the cleavage made by her ample breasts.
I had a date the first Friday night I was there. I asked Mrs. Watson if I should stay home, but she said I should go and enjoy myself.
It was one of my typical dates, no chance for sex because of my freakish reputation. The girl was a bore with an I. Q. of about 30. I think she just wanted to see if the rumors were true. I finally made an excuse about needing to go home and dropped her off. Before she got out of the car, I let her squeeze my crouch. She let out the typical remarks and ran to the door. I drove to the Watson house and pulled in the driveway to a somewhat dark place. Opening the door I assumed Mrs. Watson was sleeping. Instead I found her sitting on the back porch drinking a glass of wine.
"I don't think your parents would mind a small glass of wine before retiring. Do you?"
"Thanks, I'll get it myself."
Coming back on the porch I sat down and sipped the wine.
