Elise's Birthday
"Oh yeah, a LOT," my wife said, as if it were obvious, when I asked if she'd ever had an orgasm through intercourse alone. Then she backtracked: "But I like it with, you know, your mouth as well. That's great. And you've made me cum with just your cock." I hadn't. Mine was at the smallest end of normal and I put it inside her only after making her cum with my tongue.
"Anyway," she said, "guys with big dicks usually ARE. They're king of the world. And you are more than enough for me." She kissed me, and I was happy to hear it, but anyone could see her body was made for epic sex. Her big, perky tits, small waist, round buttocks and hungry pussy were meant for a stallion of a man to enjoy. I was just keeping her warm.
I'd found out by going down some internet holes that I was turned on by cuckold scenarios, and I introduced this fantasy into our talk without planning to. "Show me what you'd do with a big one," I'd say, and she'd do an exaggerated blowjob and pretend to gag on me. "For your birthday I'll get you a jerk with a big tool," I'd say, and she'd play along -- "Ooh, baby!"
The fantasy got specific one night when we were at El Sombrero with our friends Allen and Cassie. The margaritas there are notorious for their stealth effects. A few grandes go down without the drinker noticing; then she stands up and the room whirls. Cassie had reached that point when she said in a stage whisper, "This one" -- pointing to Allen -- "is a size eight and a half!" Talking about a boyfriend's cock right in front of him was classic Sombrero behavior, and Allen and Elise and I were embarrassed. But then I realized I already knew this.
Allen is not the hung jerk of folklore. He's a good-looking but self-effacing nerd you might peg as a librarian, and in fact he was studying library science when we roomed together at Columbia. He'd sometimes wander through our apartment in a t-shirt and tighty whities, a look that some guys might be able to pull off but on Allen was obscene. The pouch of his tighties was stuffed nearly to bursting and nothing was left to the imagination. He was in our kitchen, without the t-shirt, showing a comically exaggerated bulge when our third roommate, Vinnie, pointed and said, "What do you put in there, socks?" Allen tried to laugh it off but clearly wanted to vanish. "Nope, all me," he said. "Guy's half horse," said Vinnie. Allen wandered back to his room and put on some pants, and never appeared in his undies again.
After Elise and I heard the actual dimensions of Allen's endowment, he took the place of our imaginary hung guy. "If this was Allen, you'd be bowlegged tomorrow" I'd say as I slid into her. She came up with a nickname for him: Shaft. I got her to admit that she saw him differently now that she knew what he was packing. And there things would have stayed if Cassie hadn't moved to Boston.
After trying to keep things going long-distance, Allen and Cassie called it quits and Elise and I would see him on his own. Elise was especially warm to him at dinners, taking a special interest in the prospects for his love life. We started to feel sorry for him. He had a lot to offer a woman, but was too shy to strike anything up. "All that 'eight and a half' going to waste -- what a shame," said Elise.
"Well, your birthday's coming up. I'll wrap him up for you," I said, in a joking voice...
"No, no," she said, unexpectedly serious.
"Come on. I'll put a little ribbon on him. Or a big one."
"No, stop. I wouldn't do that."
"No? Never?"
"He wouldn't do it either."
"He would. You watch. I promise you. I'll ask him tomorrow."
"No way! He would never do that."
"Lady, you are HOT. Any guy would say yes to you. Especially one that's love-starved and clearly into you. You never caught him staring at your tits?"
And that was it. There was still an air of joking about it but I'd gotten the assent I needed to spring it on Allen over drinks. I exaggerated a few things -- I couldn't make Elise cum, I admitted with shame, leaving out my dexterity with my tongue. I feared losing her and wanted to do something really special for her, something she needed deep inside, and I was sorry if it shocked him, but if Allen was up for it, she would be too.
He didn't deny that he'd be the man for the job, and clearly wanted it, but still hesitated. "I mean, I gotta think about it," he said. "You're serious?"
I assured him I was and he swallowed hard, his big Adam's apple bobbing. Half of him was freaked out, especially because I was going to be there. But I knew his lower half would win. Elise was a potently sexy woman and Allen was in a long, desperate drought.
I didn't put a bow on him, but did have a cake and candles ready, along with flowers and champagne, and I whistled "Happy Birthday To You" as I steered Allen by the shoulders into the kitchen where Elise was waiting. She was overly calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary was afoot, but was dressed to excite him. Her C-cups were packed into a tight black top, nipples clearly outlined, and a grey skirt hugged her hips, just barely covering her thighs. There was embarrassment in the air during dinner, cut by the champagne and their obvious attraction for each other. There were two brief, silent interludes of mutual lust. And I was there to make jibber-jabber whenever they got self-conscious.
"Do we want cake -- or do you want your present now?" I asked. They grinned at me, sheepishly. I told Elise to go get into her nightie and she got up, went into the bedroom and shut the door. Allen watched her anxiously, his Adam's apple jumping. I was afraid he was about to bolt, and asked him, "What do you think?"
"Oh my God," he whispered. "Are you sure about this? You sure?" I nodded emphatically. "She is so sexy," he said, lost in excitement. "Thanks, man. Thanks. So, uh, how do we, uh ..." He awkwardly adjusted his stiffening penis. There seemed to be no comfortable position for it, and the walk to the bedroom was going to be aa challenge.
Then Elise was standing in the doorway in a pink camisole and red panties. Allen's eyes nearly popped out, but he didn't move for a second, so I said, "Go get 'er, tiger," and he rose with an outrageous bulge in his pants and kind of limped into the bedroom. I followed, a smaller awkwardness in my pants, idiotically whistling "Happy Birthday" again, and sat in the chair I'd placed a few feet from the bed, amazed that this was really going to happen.
"Oh -- okay, all right," said Allen. He'd forgotten I was going to be there, but was too hot for Elise to let anything interfere. Elise approached him shyly, and they stood before each other a second before Allan pulled her to him gently and, as if he'd never been with a woman before, tried a tentative kiss. Elise giggled, and Allen smiled, and for a second the situation seemed too ridiculous to go on. But Elise was hot for Allen too: she took off his glasses, set them on the nightstand, and ran a finger down his chest, over his belt buckle and onto his bulge. He moved in, wrapped her up in his arms and pressed her breasts to him, and suddenly it was on. Their hands were everywhere, their kisses were hot, her nipples were erect, his tongue was on them, her breath was ragged, and there was no stopping it now. Was I sure about this? Clothes were coming off -- he lifted off her camisole, and feasted his eyes on the beautiful, eager breasts he'd craved for so long. She sat on the bed in her panties and unbuttoned his shirt. He took it off and peeled off his undershirt, showing his lean torso, then kicked off his shoes and was grappling with his belt when she took over and unbuckled it, clearly hungry for his eight and a half. She unzipped his khakis and exposed the waistband of his underwear, the same dorky white Jockeys he'd worn in college. He stepped out of his pants and stood there, a huge, hilarious tent in his briefs. Elise studied it, stroked it, squeezed it lovingly, leaned in for a deep whiff of it, kissed it, licked it, then pulled his waistband down, down, down...further...and his erection sprang at her, startling us all.
Even forewarned, I was shocked by Allen's dick. I'd pictured it just like my own, only twice as long; and its pink, upturned head wasn't a lot bigger than mine, but behind it the shaft fattened dramatically, giving it a lethal, clublike appearance. I was outraged by the inequality of our endowments. His was way too big for his lean, medium-size frame, and way, way too big for Elise's tight pussy, however wet she might be. There would be no penetration. Elise must have decided to give him oral pleasure instead: she touched his penis, loving it with her fingers, then held it steady as her lips approached to kiss the tip.
Why had I wanted this? I'd known he was much bigger than me, and was trying to remember why that was a good thing. I've got plenty other things he doesn't have, right? This was just sex. And why was my dick the hardest it had ever been? I had planned not to undress, but had to unzip so my little guy could poke up in my undies.
Now Elise was cupping his balls and had about three inches of his cock in her mouth. It was too big around to get any more in. (This was another humiliation: she easily swallows me to the root.) Her other hand was wrapped around his shaft, and her fingers didn't begin to meet. Allen's breath got deeper, and he leaned down to stroke her breasts. He tried to reach her pussy but the position was wrong. I saw with dismay that, with the kissing, licking, and sucking, his dick had grown even more absurdly huge.
Suddenly Allen pulled away and pressed Elise back onto the bed. He didn't understand yet that oral was all he was going to get. He pulled Elise's panties down and explored her pussy with his fingers, as she wiggled under him, encouraging him. Then he grabbed her under the knees and flipped her legs up, spreading them wide and exposing her freshly shaved pussy, which was a hotter pink and somehow more pussy-like than I'd seen it before. The room was starting to stink of sex. He slid the whole length of his dick along her pussy lips, and I was about to interrupt -- if he was going to try penetration, he should at least use the lube and Magnum condoms I'd set on the nightstand. He went on sliding his meat along her labia, making a sloshing, slurping sound: she was sopping.
Their eyes were locked. That was somehow more intimate than his dick on her pussy.
After a few minutes of teasing, Elise made a hungry little moan, which Allen had been waiting for. He took hold of the point of his torpedo, aimed it between her pussy lips, and popped the head inside.
And there it is. Another man is fucking my wife. I am hurt and humiliated, and my penis is so stiff it might break off.
Allen pushed in another inch, and the fat shaft made her gasp. He pulled back out and his dick glistened. Had I seen her that wet before? He leaned back in, slowly, feeding her the thickest part of him, spreading her lips to the limit. She breathed deeply, concentrating, adjusting to his girth. His self-control was impressive; he was letting her get used to him an inch at a time. He started fucking her carefully with about four inches, then stopped and slowly fed another inch into her hot depths.
She was taking it like a champ. When she had about seven inches inside her she reached and grabbed his butt cheeks, pulling the rest of him in, and groaned. Where was she putting it all? Would she ever feel me again? She was completely stuffed with cock. Allen kept it in place as she gyrated, her vagina stretching to accommodate his size.
Then he slowly pulled out to the head, slid back in balls deep, and started fucking her in earnest. It seemed to me that Elise was no longer just coping with his hugeness but was now enjoying it truly and deeply. She sighed rhythmically, and I could see why: the opening of her pussy was stretched taut, pulling her clitoris down where Allen's dick was relentlessly making love to it. The tip of his cock was narrower than the rest, so as he fucked her, her pussy widened and contracted, widened and contracted, getting a huge workout on every stroke. And inside her his mighty penis was massaging depths off limits to me.
"Ooh -- ah, ah, ah!" she said, pain creasing her face, alerting Allen to stop his thrusts. Why wasn't he stopping? He picked up his pace instead, pistoning powerfully in and out as her breath came in little jerks. She rolled her head toward me, eyes squeezed tight, mouth wide with astonishment, and was tense and silent for a second; then she trembled and let out a loud, gutteral groan like she was having a baby. Allen pounded her as she screeched all the way to the end of her long, long orgasm. When it had nearly passed, he slowed way down, as if his dick were saying, "There, there now" to her pussy, soothing it. Elise moaned softly; her face was red and a tear rolled down her cheek. I was in shock, never having witnessed anything so powerful thundering through her frame.
I would have many opportunities to get used to it that night. The most painful of her orgasms for me was the second one. Five minutes after her first, she made her little warning sound again, and she knew what was coming this time. The joy on her face when it hit was unbearable. When the wave of ecstasy-agony crashed over her, she whimpered, "So big! So big," over and over, basically singing a hymn to Allen's cock in front of me. Again he gave her the slow, soothing strokes, and then, after a while, resumed the fast deep-dicking that would push her to her third orgasm. Allen was a beast. I cum after ten minutes, tops. He had endless stamina. It wasn't fair. Everything about him was built to turn Elise inside-out with pleasure.
As her fourth climax was nearing, I got a little too excited and started rubbing my cockhead through my underwear. I felt my own orgasm approaching and pulled my hand away, not wanting Allen to outlast me when I wasn't even fucking anyone. But the pre-orgasm feeling wouldn't go away, and after I stopped touching myself there was nothing more to do. As Elise came hard, I did too, for the first time without anything stroking my dick. The sight of cum soaking through my underpants as her chorus of "So big" began was another crushing sign of Allen's sexual superiority.
I was hard again by the time her final orgasm rumbled toward her -- how many was this, eight, nine, ten? I couldn't tell the end of one from the beginning of another; they seemed to pass each other coming and going. Allen was thrusting with extra punch now, a little vengefully. After almost an hour of pumping he was covered in sweat but showed no sign of tiring. Elise was doing a little yelp to his rhythm, and he matched her with determined grunts, clearly about to cum too. I guess he figured after making her cum so many times, he deserved to cum inside her, and no one was going to stop him. Elise's orgasm struck her like an earthquake; her legs stuck straight up in the air and quivered as she came, and Allen was right behind her, roaring into the pillow as he pulsed deep inside her, shooting her full of long-pent-up hot semen. I went ahead and rubbed myself to another orgasm, making it three for three in the room.
Now Allen was exhausted, and he collapsed across Elise. He still had his socks on. Elise was too weak to move; she looked over at me, aglow with satisfaction, tears streaking her cheeks.
"Happy birthday," I said. "Did you like your present?"
"I did. Thank you." She was dizzy.
"Is it too big? I worried about the size."
"No," she said. "The size is perfect. In fact, I want exactly the same thing next year."
And now, believe it or not, things are a little different. Elise and I had sex the next night and even as I was eating her out she felt looser, and I swear I kept tasting Allen. She came, in the calm, quieter way she does with me. Then I started fucking her and felt like a little kid on top of her. She moaned kindly but it was obvious her real man wasn't there.
We're having dinner with Allen on Friday. We'll be nonchalant, I'm sure, but she will be picturing his cock as clearly as if she's looking at it. Her knees will point to him, then part a little; her vagina will radiate toward him and her panties will get steamy. He'll get hard in his damn stupid Jockeys and I'll probably be just as hard. The heat between them will singe my eyebrows and it even seems possible we won't be able to wait a year to do something about it.