SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

At the young age of 19, I found myself falling hard for Luke, a 26-year-old and a total charmer. I understood the challenges posed by our age difference, given that we were at different stages in life, but he had this undeniable maturity that matched mine.

Our dates were a charming mix of high-end dinners and simple sorority house meals, lavish movie nights, and lively frat parties. We found balance between the calm of his apartment and the hustle and bustle of my sorority dorm room.

What attracted me to Luke was his limited romantic past, dotted by fleeting, non-intense relationships. My romantic history was quite sparse too, marked by short-lived high school flings, if you’d even count a six-month stint as serious. Oddly, despite our age gap, our dating experience seemed to parallel each other’s.

Luke understood that I was still young and gave me the freedom to live my life without any restrictions. His trust in me was so absolute that he didn’t let jealousy creep in, even when I had to accompany dates to sorority and fraternity events while he was away.

But our trust was always mutual. We had this special ritual where I would call Luke before I left and then again when I got back. Our faith in each other was unwavering, and not a hint of jealousy ever marred our bond.

Ours was a relationship rooted in mutual respect and friendship, with an underlying spark of attraction.

Intimacy quickly became a familiar aspect of our relationship. Our undeniable attraction led us to share a bed the very day we met, which was a new experience for me. Our first encounter was cautious, with a condom for protection and a careful pull-out method.

However, we faced a minor issue – the condoms supplied by my sorority were from a brand notorious for being larger than the standard size, even the so-called ‘regular’ ones. As a result, these became our protection of choice after our initial experiences.

Luke noticed that they tended to slide off, and eventually, I decided that we could forego the condoms altogether. I never expressed any criticisms. On our first night grappling with the oversized protection, I simply said, “It’s okay. I trust you if you trust me. Let’s just go for it.”

There was no trace of regret or judgment in my voice, just a straightforward acknowledgment of the ill-fitting condoms.

With a reassuring smile, I told him I’d figure out a solution.

Several weeks into our whirlwind romance, I told Luke about a recent sorority meeting. Amid discussions on house rules, chores, and necessary supplies, I had boldly suggested a switch from the infamous condom brand. Unfortunately, the majority voted against my proposal.

I offered to bring it up again if he wanted to, but Luke reassured me that it was entirely my decision.

“Okay. Well, I’m on the pill and don’t mind going without, but I’d like to use protection most times. How about we buy our own from the supermarket? Just so we have them,” I suggested.

“Sounds like a plan. Ready to go now?” he asked.

So, we set off on a ten-minute car ride to the supermarket, our journey punctuated by music, laughter, and our usual playful banter.

When we arrived, Luke asked if I’d like to wait in the car or accompany him.

“I want a say in what’s going on inside of me.” I winked and let out a giggle.

We headed straight for the pharmacy section, specifically the ‘family planning’ aisle. It was like a buffet of prophylactics, boasting a wide range of varieties – lambskin, lubricated, spermicidal, large, ribbed, with or without cock rings, and something called ‘natural.’

I picked up a box of ribbed condoms, but Luke immediately vetoed them. I tried again with the ‘naturals’ from the same brand, to which he responded, “Nope, not those either.”

“Too big?” I asked, catching the attention of a fellow shopper. Embarrassed, Luke mumbled a quiet “Yes.”

Unable to hear him, I asked louder, forcing him to confirm at a normal volume. The nosy shopper’s eyes widened, and she mouthed a silent “Wow” before picking up a box of my sorority’s brand and exiting the aisle.

I asked, slightly irritated, “Then which ones?”

Luke guided me towards the bottom shelf, singling out a box of condoms tagged ‘slimmer fit.’

“What does ‘slimmer fit’ mean?” I asked.

“They’re designed to stay in place better than other styles.”

“They’re smaller, aren’t they?” I questioned as another female shopper appeared on our aisle.

After acknowledging my correct guess, we had quite a conversation, with both the newcomer expressing surprise at the existence of this lesser-known variant of condoms and me. Their shared curiosity was a bit frustrating, but at least it ended with me agreeing to buy them.

However, it didn’t stop there. I asked if we should buy the other box too. Our new ‘friend’ made a cheeky comment about the dust on the box, indicating it had been sitting there untouched for a while.

“Oh, well. Let’s leave ’em for the next guy that needs ’em,” Luke responded, eager to end the conversation. But fate had other plans.

In the end, Luke found himself purchasing both boxes while the ladies pondered the rarity of such condoms. At least, as I pointed out, we knew where to find them if needed.

A week later, in my room, Luke was silent for a moment before he spoke up, “Kaili, people can be cruel when they don’t understand something. As for missing out, well, I can’t speak for anyone else’s experience…”

I interrupted him before he could finish, “No, Luke. It’s not about understanding something. It’s not about cruelness either. I mean, yes, they were mean, and that wasn’t fair. But the part that worries me is that I kind of agree with some of their sentiment, if not exactly what they said.”

He turned to look at me, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Look,” I sighed, “I like you—a lot. And our time together has been great. But when they were laughing, saying those things… I couldn’t help but wonder if they were right. I don’t know what it’s like to be with a guy who doesn’t have the condom slipping off problem. And now I find myself wondering if I’m missing out on something. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. I feel like I need to know if there’s a difference. I just… I just need some time to think about all this.”

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable, but it was necessary. This wasn’t an easy conversation, but it was one we had to have for both of us.

Luke was silent after my outburst, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. The tension in the car was almost unbearable. This wasn’t how I planned this conversation to go, but the words had spilled out, and there was no taking them back.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, “I understand, Kaili. It’s okay to be curious, to have questions. I can’t blame you for wondering. I would probably be asking myself the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

His understanding felt like a gentle balm, but it didn’t take away the uneasiness. He was being supportive, accommodating even. But was it fair to him? Was it fair to me?

“I think it’s only fair that you get to explore that curiosity,” he added, his voice steady. “You’re young. This is the time for you to learn, to experience new things.”

“But I don’t want to lose you,” I protested, “What if…what if…”

“What if you like it better with someone else?” he completed my sentence, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Then that’s a risk I’m willing to take because I want what’s best for you, Kaili. Even if that means it’s not me.”

His words stunned me. I could barely comprehend the selflessness, the love in his voice. It was so different from the selfishness I was displaying, but somehow, it also made me respect him more.

“I don’t know what to say,” I finally managed to whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything, Kaili,” he replied, turning the car into the driveway of our sorority house. “Just think about it. Take your time. Whatever decision you make, I’ll be here.”

And that’s exactly what I planned to do. Because as much as I liked Luke, as much as I cared for him, I owed it to myself to explore, to learn, to experience. And knowing that he would support me no matter what…it only made me admire him more.

So there I was, a whole month post-Luke chat, when his text popped up. “Hey, just checking in. You’ve been on my mind.”

Honestly, it was kinda bizarre not having him in my daily chats after a routine of constant texting, even multiple times a day. Missing those weekends when we were practically attached at the hip was an understatement.

So, yeah, his text was kind of a relief. I’d been missing him and curious about how he was doing. Our last conversation in the car left things hanging and felt unfinished.

“Hey, I’m good. Been a minute, hasn’t it? How’ve you been?”

I decided to play it cool and nonchalant in my text. I didn’t want to spill that I’d been playing back our moments together on a loop. Not that I was obsessing or anything, but he popped up in my thoughts a lot, his memories always lurking around the corner.

“…”

“Ah, perfect,” I muttered to myself, eyeing those dreaded typing dots. “He’s cooking up some sort of novel response.” My mind wandered – was he seeing someone else? Was he about to drop a bombshell? Those three dots were torturing me.

“It’s been ages. Fancy catching up over dinner soon?”

I’ve always admired his texting style – clear, direct, no stupid emojis. Me, I’m all about the emojis. Anyway, I shot back, “Sounds good. When and where? I’ve got a thing tomorrow, but my schedule’s open after that.”

“Saturday?”

“Saturday works. Just give me a ring.”

The relief that washed over me at the thought of seeing Luke soon was unreal. I could get pumped for the party tonight, the one tomorrow, and most importantly, my date with Luke on Saturday.

First part: From Kaili’s perspective

“God, what have I done?” I murmured, awakening in the disarray of my room. “Luke’s going to freak.”

It was the witching hour on a Saturday morning, and the Friday night party was a distant memory. Clambering around in my bed, I drew a shaky breath, praying fervently that I was alone. But Lady Luck had abandoned me. The chiseled hunk I’d partnered with in beer pong at the party was sprawled naked beside me. Panic surged through me. I quickly inspected us for signs of innocence, hoping we’d simply passed out in a drunken stupor. But the chilly air on my bare skin told a different story. A swift peek beneath the covers revealed the unadorned truth – we were both entirely nude.

“Darn it, not good. I need to rectify this. My room can’t smell like cheap Axe mixed with sex,” I muttered.

“Hey. Wake up,” I nudged him, my voice shaky. Groggily, he leaned in, pressing a bold, hungry kiss onto my lips, an electrifying 3 a.m. wake-up call.

“Nope, not now. You need to go,” I instructed him.

“Huh?” he mumbled. Let’s call him David. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion and lust.

“You need to leave. My boyfriend’s coming over later, and I can’t let him walk into this…this…” I trailed off, gesturing at the room.

“Walk into our little love nest, babe?” David asked, a smug grin plastered on his face, clearly not taking my urgency seriously.

“Seriously, get out. Now.”

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving.”

David sat up, stretching his muscles and delivering a quick pat to his thighs, announcing, “Guess it’s time for me to head home.”

I watched him rise, his muscles rippling under his tanned skin. He was a stunner, his body sculpted like Adonis, smooth and firm. The view from behind was equally arresting. His butt was a masterpiece.

“Hey,” he spun around, “Where are my shorts?”

As he twisted, his manhood swayed with a slight delay, semi-aroused from our recent tryst. It was far from the largest I’d seen, but still impressive. Definitely larger than Luke, even at half-mast. “Damn, Kaili, you do know how to pick them,” I smirked to myself.

“Let’s find your shorts,” I replied, standing too abruptly. A sudden pain ripped through my lower body, the aftermath of our wild rendezvous.

“Ouch,” I winced.

“What’s up?” David asked.

“Nothing. I’m just… really sore.”

“Oh, right,” David chuckled, “Occupational hazard. Sorry about that. You seemed pretty into me going all in.”

“It’s not even dawn, dude. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask for anything rough.”

“Actually, you did. Have a look.”

He turned to show me his back, adorned with red scratches.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was wild. And hey, you kept saying, ‘You’re so much bigger’ than some dude… Couldn’t catch the name, Lou or Duke?”

“Luke.”

Great. Now he knew. But did Luke still count as my boyfriend after this debacle?

I reached down, a wave of fear washing over me. There it was. The unmistakable residue of an illicit tryst. All I could do was hope against hope that Luke wasn’t feeling frisky tonight because he’d be in for a rude awakening. The carnal evidence was far from appealing.

Desperate for some shut-eye, I managed a couple of hours before the morning sun forced me awake. Around 11, I shuffled to breakfast with Sam and another dorm-mate, Jackie.

The chatter was casual until Jackie detonated a verbal bomb. “Oh my god, you guys! You won’t believe what I overheard last night.”

“Moans from the neighboring room?” Sam quipped.

“Someone screaming another girl’s name?” I added.

“Snorts, sighs, followed by chainsaw snores?” Sam chuckled.

“No, you guys. But yeah, there were some of those too. I was at Delta Chi when I overheard this chick dishing about a supermarket trip. Sounds mundane, right? But apparently, it was anything but.”

A knot tightened in my stomach, my anxiety skyrocketing.

“So, she was there picking up some random stuff and condoms. Because apparently, everyone’s using them these days.”

Jackie’s attitude towards protection seemed laid-back. Interesting.

“And as she’s about to snag a box, she hears this girl and her boyfriend debating on which ones to buy. They were squabbling about choosing regular condoms or, wait for it, ‘snugger fit’ ones! I didn’t even know such things existed. But apparently, they do. The guy was quite old, she said. Almost looked like the girl’s dad.”

I was mortified. My intimate conversation with Luke had morphed into a campus anecdote. I didn’t want to own it, but I couldn’t help but interject.

“Well. I mean. It’s not necessarily about age.”

Age? Seriously, Kaili?

“Uh,” Jackie stuttered, “that’s not helping your case.” She erupted into her signature fit of giggles.

“Yeah. I mean,” Sam added, “it could be a health thing? Or, and bear with me, maybe…”

Jackie interrupted, roaring, “Dude’s got a small dick!”

“Right,” Sam conceded, her tone deflated.

“No, not small,” I blurted out.

Seriously, Kaili? Keep it together.

“Oho? Have some juicy insights you’d like to share, Kaili?” Sam jested.

“No. I’m just saying that just because someone prefers a snugger fit doesn’t mean they’re small.”

A hush fell over us. Sam and Jackie exchanged intrigued glances. And then, they burst into laughter.

“Kaili. We were just messing around. But if there’s something you want to dish,” Sam encouraged.

I played along, my nervous laughter not quite reaching my eyes. “I’m just saying. But, as you could probably tell from last night, no snug fit needed with that guy.”

“Right. Apparently, Jeff’s packing some serious heat,” Sam nodded. “Or at least, much larger than…”

I could see where this was headed. Sam was piecing it all together.

“Luke? Kaili. Were you the girl at the supermarket?” she probed.

“What?” Jackie looked bewildered.

“What? No! Absolutely not. I was just defending…”

“But it’s all adding up. You mentioned something about ‘bigger than Luke’ last night.”

My face flushed, the color draining from it. The story wasn’t just a rumor anymore. It had faces, names… identities.

Knowing that I had moaned Jeff’s name instead of a fictitious David didn’t exactly offer me any solace. But considering the tumultuous nature of my day, it hardly made a difference.

The minute I could, I darted back to the privacy of my room, craving solitude. I busied myself cleaning up, tossing dirty clothes into the hamper, organizing my desk – anything to evade the impending ordeal. Luke was due in an hour, and I had procrastinated on my shower—just one more blunder to add to today’s laundry list.

The shower was surprisingly calming. Our dorms weren’t renowned for their plumbing, so having adequate water pressure and hot water at the same time felt like a treat.

I chose to prolong the moment, savoring the peace while it lasted. I had a good hour before Luke’s arrival.

My hair has always been a source of pride for me. It’s a luscious, dark brown hue that feels as soft as silk. When I let it flow freely, it tumbles down to my lower back. There’s something incredibly soothing about the sensation of water cascading through it, contouring the curve of my back, slipping down between my buttocks, and streaming along my thighs to my feet.

For the first time that day, I felt genuinely tranquil. I allowed myself to bask in the warmth, lost in the rhythm of water droplets hitting the shower floor. As I reached down to pick up my shampoo, I felt it. A sticky trickle slides down my right thigh, disappearing down the drain. Reality sucker-punched me. I hadn’t used a condom with Jeff last night, and he had certainly not withdrawn.

I reached down to investigate further. As suspected, there was more. Tentatively, I inserted my index, middle, and ring fingers, hoping to rid myself of any remnants. The sheer volume took me aback. Luke had never… well, been so prolific. Not once.

Luke. My god.

I hurriedly concluded my shower and patted myself dry. Back in my room, anxiety had me pacing; the wait for Luke’s arrival was unbearable.

Then he was here. My phone vibrated. “Hey, hey, I’m downstairs,” he texted.

“On my way,” I responded.

Here we go—time to face the music.

I walked down the stairs to the lobby, acutely aware of Luke’s gaze on me. His eyes brightened like a child’s on Christmas morning, finally getting to open that much-anticipated gift.

“Hey, handsome!” I greeted him, perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm.

“Hey, gorgeous!” He returned the greeting with matching excitement.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said, ushering him. “I’m just wrapping up, and then we can head out for lunch.”

“Perfect,” he agreed.

Once inside my room, an uneasy silence blanketed us. I was at a loss for words. How do you talk to a guy you’ve ignored for a month? Especially when you’ve potentially cheated on him, regardless of whether he viewed us as an exclusive couple. Could he sense something was off? This was excruciating.

“So, catch me up on what you’ve been doing,” I attempted to break the ice.

“Bits and pieces,” he responded cryptically, “Hey, why don’t you finish up your makeup and come sit with me?”

In my distress, I had completely forgotten about my half-done makeup. My heart plummeted, “This is it,” I mused, “the dreaded confrontation.”

I moved sluggishly to the bed and settled next to him, suddenly feeling coy.

Silently, he leaned in and kissed me.

“Why the sudden smooch?” I asked, caught off guard.

He responded by leaning in and kissing me again, just as tenderly. I didn’t pull away. One more passionate kiss and a look that screamed, “We’re making out now.”

Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself reciprocating. Despite everything, Luke was the best man I’d ever been with. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to let go, to erase the memories of last night’s transgression.

We kept it PG, limiting our interaction to kisses for a good ten minutes. And then, his hands started wandering, beginning to lift my t-shirt over my head. Again, I didn’t protest.

For the second time in less than a day, I found myself naked with a man. This time, however, it was Luke.

His hands, perpetually gentle and deliberate, worked their magic as we continued our intimate session. We lay intertwined, our bodies fully exposed, yet our engagement was confined to kisses and touches. This was until Luke’s right hand slid down to my left breast. That particular one. The one I had always been so self-conscious about. It wasn’t a mirror image of its twin – plump, perky, sporting a perfectly positioned nipple. Instead, it was tuberous, elongated, leaning sideways, its nipple seemingly pointing towards the earth. An ex-boyfriend, during an especially bitter argument, had dubbed it my “Tom Brady boob” – not inflated to regulation. While the analogy was imaginative, the characterization was unacceptable.

However, it was this one, my metaphorical ugly duckling, that Luke chose to touch first. His hand skimmed it gently before kneading it affectionately. Was he genuinely fond of it? Then, he started planting soft kisses along my neck, down my collarbone, onto my breast, until he reached my nipple. He laid a gentle kiss on it before taking it between his lips, giving it a delicate squeeze. It was enlightening. Most guys would touch it, recoil almost immediately. But Luke, he was taking his time with it, and that exhilarated me more than anything else.

I reached up and brought his face to mine, kissing him fervently. Luke, the consummate gentleman, allowed his hand to wander further down, gliding past my immaculate breast, along my belly, and finally reaching my groin. He slid his middle finger across my damp folds. I believe he understood. All the while kissing me, he carefully swung his right leg over my right one, then his left, hovering just above me.

He halted, breaking our kiss, and asked, “Ready?”

I nodded.

That’s one of the things I adore about Luke. He never presumes that I’m prepared for intercourse; he always inquires.

Another aspect I appreciate about him is that, despite his age and his size relative to other men I’ve been with, his penis, when erect, is incredibly firm. Jeff may have resembled a Greek God, but Luke’s erection was akin to a piece of marble, hard and unyielding.

Once I confirmed my readiness, Luke delicately lowered himself onto me. In a seamless, assured motion, he was filling me. I could never comprehend how, in films, men always seemed to penetrate effortlessly. I assumed it was some Hollywood fantasy until I met Luke. But it was amusing to contemplate that perhaps all the men in Hollywood were as humbly equipped as Luke.

“Damn,” he groaned.

“Yeah?” I inquired, hoping his outburst would be favorable.

“You’re way more receptive than usual,” he expanded. “Guess it’s been a while for both of us, huh?”

His words cut me to the core, but all I could reply was, “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

His initial thrusts were slow and tender, a rhythmic dance of careful penetrations and withdrawals. Being with Luke was always…satisfying. It was akin to a serene, intimate massage.

I prepared myself for a swift climax. After all, we hadn’t been together for a month, and Luke wasn’t the sort to seek fleeting encounters or even self-gratification. Then, however, he took me by surprise.

Luke began to swivel his hips in a figure-eight pattern, his cock following the same motion within me. Suddenly, he felt larger, more defined. The sensation was unexpected, yet electrifying.

I could feel my wetness increasing. Even though Luke didn’t hit certain spots that others could, his innovative technique was an exhilarating alternative.

The surprise excitement, coupled with the rhythmic thrusts, brought me to a modest orgasm. Luke must have sensed his triumph, for he maintained his rhythm, whispering, “You can play with yourself if you like.”

Accepting his invitation, I began to rub my clit while he continued his rhythmic rotations. A minute later, I climaxed again; this time, the waves of pleasure were much stronger.

Gasping in delight, barely conscious of my surroundings, I heard Luke ask, “Hey, Kai, can I try something different?”

“Anything,” I managed to exhale.

“Okay,” he replied, withdrawing his hard cock from me.

“Wait, no,” I objected, but he simply hushed me and plunged back in. Then he withdrew once more, then back in. He initiated a new pattern – a complete withdrawal followed by a powerful thrust. It didn’t provide the same sensation as other men penetrating me, but it was spectacular. I felt stretched, potent. His modest yet rigid length slides in and out of me, our bodies slapping together rhythmically.

With every thrust, I was propelled closer to the edge. Now, he was maintaining a rapid pace of two thrusts per second. Out and in, entirely.

Finally, I came with a resounding moan and an intense orgasm.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, struggling to catch my breath, “that was amazing!”

But Luke was far from done. He maintained his rhythm even throughout my climax.

Guided by primal instinct, my hand sought out my pulsating clit. I fervently began to rub myself, leading to another breathless “Oh, fuck!” as a new orgasm crashed over me.

Witnessing my pleasure peak time and time again, Luke decelerated his pace, gently guiding me down from the precipice of my potent ecstasy.

Panting and regaining my breath, I believed we were done, but then Luke murmured, “Now, give me your hand.” He gently directed my left hand downwards, signaling towards my middle finger. I understood what he was implying. Even though I had never been a fan of self-fingering, the unexpected intrusion of a solitary finger, I decided to play along.

I slipped my middle finger into my slick heat.

“Stay there,” Luke instructed softly. I obeyed, and then, to my astonishment, he slid his humble length back inside me, alongside my finger.

 

 

His innovative technique engulfed me with fresh sensations. The rotating, the thrusting, the rubbing, and now this. It was as if I was with a whole different Luke.

With my finger adding to his width, the sensation intensified significantly. As he resumed his steady rhythm, I began to emit soft moans synchronized with each of his thrusts.

At his slow pace, my moans were discreet, more like soft sighs.

But then realization struck me. This was the first time during our entire session that I was vocalizing while he was buried within me. A twinge of guilt gnawed at me that my volume was escalating just because of the added thickness. To mask this, I decided to exaggerate my moans, hoping he hadn’t made the same observation.

My moans amplified, becoming more akin to the noises I usually made with other men.

However, my cries were soon drowned out by Luke’s. Then, with a final groan, I felt three pulses of his release against my embedded finger. I had never experienced a man’s climax against anything other than my inner walls.

He paused a moment, still embedded within me, before gently withdrawing. A trickle of his warm release followed his exit. When I removed my finger, the remainder–just a few droplets–followed, sliding downwards, pooling around my other entrance, and staining the sheets.

A jolt of erotic excitement coursed through me as I realized a few of his tiny droplets were tucked away in the small folds surrounding my untouched back entrance.

Luke and I lay there for a brief spell, both of us panting for breath. Never before had I experienced such powerful orgasms, especially not from penetrative sex. My past peaks of pleasure had all been self-induced. But Luke… he’d somehow managed to decode the enigma. I’d transitioned from a woman who had never reached an orgasm during penetration to a woman who had been catapulted to ecstasy a remarkable four times.

Eventually, Luke gathered enough strength to get up and shuffle off to the shower, leaving me sprawled out across the bed, my naked skin exposed to the cooling air.

I didn’t stir. No sheets, no covers, just me, sprawled out, bare and sated on our disheveled sheets. I could feel the remnants of Luke’s climax trailing down to my untouched back door, a warm, damp path that caressed my tight opening before pooling onto the bed. I always adored the sensation of a man’s release coursing over my untouched entrance, but usually it was too much; with Luke, it felt like a gentle whisper. Even my own arousal hadn’t completely ebbed away, leaving a sheen of wetness on my inner thighs. My hand, still resting where it had landed after our final round, felt the soothing warmth radiating from my sated core.

A wave of contentment washed over me. I felt thoroughly claimed, but not in the painful, rough way I had experienced the previous night. I felt open, widened, receptive, completely surrendered. The sensation was one of being genuinely desired and taken. The term ‘fucking’ now held a new connotation for me. Previously, I had felt used, drilled. But Luke… he’d taken his sweet time. There was no urgency, no desire to dominate, just pure, mutual pleasure.

There was a feeling of being exhausted but not shattered; intimately filled but not invaded; devoured but never exploited. But above all, I felt understood. Luke had listened to me. He’d asked the right questions, sought my consent, and explored new techniques just to ensure I was deriving pleasure. Unlike others who had hurried through the act, he was patient, ensuring I was always comfortable.

I reached for my phone, fingers still slightly quivering, and quickly texted my girlfriends. “Hey, ladies! Everything went stellar with Luke. Gonna treat him to lunch!”

Luke emerged from the bathroom, hair still damp and his skin flushed from the hot shower. His lean form was starkly naked in front of me, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His small cock seemed to shrink away from my gaze, but honestly, I found his vulnerability utterly endearing. It filled me with a sense of warmth.

Luke and I ended up enjoying a pretty substantial lunch. We’d both worked up a hefty appetite. The meal was pleasant, nothing ground-breaking, but still enjoyable. However, when he announced he had to depart, I immediately inquired about when I would see him again. His response? “As soon as possible.” I nudged him about the upcoming weekend, but he informed me he would be out of town for work.

“But the weekend after,” he added, “I haven’t forgotten it’s your birthday.”

I was startled. “Oh wow! I didn’t even realize you knew when my birthday was.”

He smirked slightly. “I asked around. And trust me, if I can pull off the birthday present I have in mind, you’re gonna be over the moon.”

“Ooh, now you’ve piqued my interest. I can’t wait.”

We shared a lingering kiss before he climbed into his car and drove off.

I grabbed my phone, my fingers racing over the screen. I had to spill the beans to my girls about this.

Predictably, the girls were all gathered together in the dining hall when I got back to campus. They were deeply engrossed in their typical weekend gossip, but the moment they spotted me, their chatter ceased. A chorus of excited greetings met me as I neared.

“Spill it,” Samantha commanded. “Your text about Luke left us all on edge.”

“Yes, girl!” Jackie chimed in.

“We need all the juicy details,” Rebecca added.

“Trust me, I can’t wait to share,” I responded. “But first, I need some caffeine.”

I grabbed a Coke from the nearby vending machine and returned to the table.

Then, with anticipation so thick you could cut it with a knife, I started to unwind the story of my day with Luke. I glossed over the explicit details, but made sure to highlight each climax, each delightful shiver, and every moment I realized that Luke was different. He genuinely cared. He listened.

The girls were astounded. They liked their boyfriends, sure, but the boys didn’t have the maturity to understand them truly. But Luke… Luke was cut from a different cloth. As Sam remarked, “He’s light-years ahead of the guys here.”

And Jackie nailed it. “He probably knows he needs to compensate for… well, you know… in some way. This is his method.”

Our conversation died down as the impact of my story faded.

Then, seemingly out of the blue, Jackie interjected. “Speaking of your birthday,” we definitely hadn’t been, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been giving Luke some tips on what to do for it.”

“Uh, okay,” I chuckled, a bit taken aback. “I guess it depends on what you mean by ‘helping Luke figure it out.'”

We all burst into giggles at that. “I’m just assisting him with the gift he has planned.”

Now that was as cryptic as it gets, but honestly, I couldn’t care less.

“Sure, whatever he needs.”

The ensuing two weeks felt as though they were crawling by, but I surprised myself by being remarkably restrained. It wasn’t merely the physical yearning for Luke that had me restless; it was the emotional bond we’d established the last weekend. It felt profound, authentic, and I didn’t want to ruin that. For the first time, I truly desired for things to succeed. Thus, the week, the weekend, and the subsequent week all glided by without me stirring up any drama at a party or doing anything that might jeopardize my connection with Luke.

When he pulled up at my sorority house on Friday, I was pulsating with excitement. His usual routine — sending me a text that he had arrived and waiting patiently downstairs.

From the landing of the second floor, I spotted him and called out, “Get your butt up here! There’s no need for me to come down. My bedroom’s up here, silly!”

I didn’t care who overheard or deduced why I wanted Luke upstairs. By now, all the girls were well aware of him and me, and how eagerly I’d been awaiting having him alone in my room.

His grin illuminated the entire area. He was holding a box — so he hadn’t forgotten about my birthday! — and I couldn’t help but wonder what surprise he had in store for me.

We entered my room and fell into each other’s arms. This was not a peck-on-the-cheek kind of greeting; it was an intense, lingering kiss. Luke was an expert kisser, gentle yet assertive, demonstrating just how in tune he was with me, with my body.

Breaking the kiss, he said, “I want to give you your birthday present now, so we can enjoy it, talk about it, experience it together all weekend.”

“Sure thing, goofball,” I responded, my hands outstretched.

He hesitated, “It’s not exactly that kind of gift. It’s a surprise, but I can give you part of it.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out three silk scarves. Two were long and narrow, the other smaller and square.

“I’d like to lightly bind your hands to the bed and blindfold you, with your permission, of course. You’ll be able to free yourself easily, but it’s just to keep your hands…”

My response was a passionate kiss, drawn in by his dedication to my comfort. After we separated, I breathed out, “Tie me up.”

His hands settled on my shoulders and gently turned me around. As I faced my bed, his hands traced the curve of my back, around to my stomach, pulling me closer. His kisses were light as a feather against my neck and collarbone, while his left hand drifted upwards to cup my breast, sending a wave of goosebumps scattering across my skin.

His right hand began its descent to the waistband of my jeans before sliding under my shirt, encouraging it upwards. I assisted him in pulling it over my head. My hair tumbled free from the bun I’d secured it in earlier, and I swept it aside as his mouth returned to my neck.

He unhooked my strapless bra with practiced ease, and it fell to the floor, swiftly followed by my jeans, which he tugged down after unbuttoning them. The musky scent of my arousal filled the air. He gave me a grin that could rival the Cheshire cat’s.

My panties followed suit, leaving me bare. I was already slightly sweaty from the heat, and anticipation pulsed through my veins, leaving me eager for whatever would follow.

Truth be told, I hadn’t expected Luke for another couple of hours. But a surprise text in class let me know he’d be arriving right after. Not quite the preparation time I’d hoped for.

My slightly stubbly bikini line was damp, courtesy of the weather and my escalating anticipation. But there was a certain rawness to this moment that felt fitting. I was ready for whatever came next.

Still on his knees, Luke planted gentle kisses at the top of my slit, then strayed slightly to the side. He hoisted my left leg, setting it on his shoulder as he dispersed a few more kisses on the front of my pubis, before zeroing in on my core. His tongue plunged into my wet opening, gliding in and out, and around. I could hear the wet sounds as he drew on my center with his warm mouth, and felt the reverse pressure as he suckled me. His tongue embarked on a tantalizing exploration, trailing from my opening to the top, brushing against my folds all the way up to my clit. After several repetitions, he zeroed in on my clit, lavishing it with fervent licks. I was relishing his attention, but I knew I wouldn’t climax while standing up.

He eventually lowered my foot and rose to kiss me. I was instantly enveloped in the potent scent of my arousal – a mix of salty, tangy, sour, slightly sweet, and oddly metallic. Part of me recoiled at its intensity, but another part of me was thrilled by his lack of aversion.

Guiding me to the bed, he eased me onto it. I sprawled out on my back as he took my right arm, gently securing it above my head with one of the scarves tied to the bedpost. He repeated the process with my left arm.

He stepped back for a moment, starting to walk away, but then turned and looked at me. I felt utterly exposed. His eyes were fixated on my crotch. I suddenly felt self-conscious. I squirmed a bit, but his eyes widened at the movement. I halted, noting that my buttocks had spread slightly and were now resting on the bed, held there by the weight between the bed and me. There was a slight pull on my pussy lips, as if they were gently parting.

“I have one more thing to get.”

When he returned, he was holding a bottle of lubricant. He poured a small amount into his hand, which drew a chuckle from me. “Honey, you don’t need that. Trust me, I’m more than ready,” I assured him, in my best sultry voice.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” he grinned, “this is just part of the fun.”

I decided not to question it further.

As I lay there, spread-eagled, he held the bottle aloft above my crotch, allowing a few drops of the warm lubricant to fall onto me. The sensation of the warm lube landing just at the top of my slit sent a wave of pleasure rippling through me.

Once satisfied with the liberal application of lubricant, Luke set the bottle aside. His slick hand then began a sensual exploration of my mound, spreading the lubricant all over. His fingers traced tantalizing circles over my stubble-coated mound, then dipped down over my lips, and all the way to my puckered entrance at the back. As he did this, his gaze never strayed from the intimate spectacle before him, drinking in every detail as my arousal visibly heightened.

His hand lingered over my mound, his palm providing a warm, soothing pressure. His index and middle fingers embarked on a slow journey, gently parting my folds with soft, tantalizing strokes. I could feel my body responding to his touch, relaxing and succumbing to the mounting arousal.

His touch remained consistent, continuing to stroke and part my folds. It was an extraordinary sensation. Never before had anyone paid such close attention to me in this way.

As his tender exploration persisted, my legs instinctively spread wider. I could feel my arousal intensifying, the warmth radiating from my core. Then, he slipped a finger inside me. It was swift and purposeful. Despite the profound sensation, I managed to stay quiet.

Having probed my depth briefly, he redirected his attention to massaging my entire bikini area. His fingers traversed my inner thighs, my gradually succumbing core, and even ventured to the most intimate place – a place no man had consciously touched before – my untouched back entrance. I admit, I was a little self-conscious about it. While I took care of my front, alternating between being completely smooth and neatly trimmed, the area around my anus was typically neglected. But in that moment, I found myself unfazed. The way Luke was touching me, the passionate kisses he was sharing with me, I was the most relaxed and content I’d ever been.

As his fingers traced over my untouched entrance, I began to contemplate whether Luke intended to indeed venture into uncharted territory. I had never seriously considered anal sex, but curiosity had always lingered. And Luke seemed perfect for this exploration. As my mind began to accept the possibility, and I let go of any fears, knowing that Luke wouldn’t hurt me as past lovers might have, I consciously began to bear down. I needed to prepare myself for something, anything, a finger or Luke’s slender manhood, to be inserted into me. I bore down again, feeling my anus pushing outward, my vagina simultaneously opening. I began to feel ready, eager even, to discover new dimensions of pleasure with Luke.

He resumed his attentions on my vagina, his touch more deliberate, more focused on its purpose. He was systematically opening me up, preparing me for him.

Caught in my profoundly relaxed state, I let out an unexpected fart. The initial embarrassment was immediate, but Luke simply said, “Perfect. You’re relaxed.”

His words instantly washed away any discomfort I felt. Instead, a wave of warmth cascaded over me, genuine care and affection flooding my senses.

My body responded to my relaxation, unfolding naturally, my muscles easing in a way I hadn’t known before. I could feel myself opening up, eager for his entrance. His reaction made it evident that he was attuned to my readiness.

Next, he took the third scarf and gently tied it over my eyes, effectively blindfolding me.

For a fleeting moment, I felt the absence of his weight on the bed. The silent anticipation amplified my arousal. In this heightened state of sensory awareness, I felt prepared for anything.

Soon, his weight returned to the bed, and he positioned himself between my spread legs.

In his signature gentle and considerate manner, he inquired, “Are you ready?”

“Oh yes,” I responded, teetering on the precipice of climax.

The next sensation was a slight pressure at my entrance, a cautious, deliberate glide. It was different from the usual ease of Luke’s penetration. It felt more purposeful, as if he was steering himself into me.

Then, I felt another thrust. There was indeed something different. Had Luke increased in size? I registered a warm presence, but as he pushed further, I experienced a stretch I was unfamiliar with from him before. I was expanding around him.

He paused for a moment, planting tender kisses on my mouth and neck, then gingerly pressed deeper.

A soft whimper escaped from my lips. This was a familiar sensation, but not one I attributed to Luke.

He pushed a bit further, and now, he was at his typical depth. A flurry of thoughts flooded my mind. I instinctively spread my legs wider to accommodate Luke’s unexpected girth.

He asked again, “Are you ready?”

I managed a small nod as he began to press deeper, a slow progression that felt like a gradual increase in depth every few seconds. He pushed another inch, then some more until I finally felt him hit his end. He wasn’t in my deepest, but there was nothing left for him to push further.

Then, mirroring his careful rhythm, he began to withdraw. As he slid out from me, I could feel myself stretching to accommodate him. With Luke, I’d always felt enveloping, comfortably taking him in with space to spare. Now, however, I was questioning whether I could accommodate this unexpected size.

The uncertainty in my mind swiftly evaporated, however, when Luke reentered at a slightly faster pace than before and drove his length as far as he could. He held his position there for about five seconds, essentially the time it took me to inhale because of the pressure.

He withdrew to just the head of his enormous cock and then, once again, pushed entirely into me. Not quite reaching the deepest part of me, but as far as he could go. Only this time, he pushed and pushed and pushed, striving to bury as much of his massive manhood into me as possible. I winced beneath my blindfold and felt my mouth fall open in response to the pressure.

Once more, he pulled out nearly completely and then plunged again into me. I noticed this time it didn’t seem as difficult to accommodate. I breathed in calmly as he was buried deep inside me, pushing into me with all his might. As he withdrew, I exhaled calmly. I suddenly realized that I could handle this.

He continued in this way several more times, and with each successive thrust, I relaxed more and more, doing everything I could to accommodate his brand-new size.

During one of his tunneling movements, I had a sudden realization. He might be able to go deeper if I lie my legs flat on the bed. So there I was, spread out on the bed like a star, with my pussy fully exposed to him, readily available to him, as open as I had ever been.

He persisted in this rhythm a few more times. By the fifth instance, my grunts had morphed into soft moans of pleasure.

At that, he asked, “Are you ready?”

“Do it,” I responded.

He drew back and drove his length into me, not pausing at my depth but retracting swiftly and then driving back in. He relentlessly plunged his full length into me, over and over again. Initially, I reciprocated, kissing him back, even bucking up towards his manhood.

But after a few minutes, I simply lay there, succumbing to the breathtaking pounding he was delivering. With each thrust, the sensation transformed from a momentary jolt of pain to intense pleasure.

For a full eight minutes, he claimed me as I lay there completely bare, completely open, completely claimed, utterly in bliss, and motionless.

There were moments when it felt as if I blacked out. It was almost an out-of-body experience. I wasn’t moving, and Luke was filling me over and over again with his new thickness. My arms were tied above my head, and my legs were spread flat on the bed. He slammed into me repeatedly. In those moments, my pussy belonged solely to him. The tables had indeed turned – where once his penis, the smallest I’d ever encountered, was entirely mine, now my vagina, my body, and my anus, if he desired, were his.

And then, abruptly, he withdrew. The sensation of him pulling out made me wince, and I cried out, “Oh no!”

I was convinced he was about to climax all over me. The sheer size of his manhood, coupled with the fantasies of our future together that he had stoked while making love to me in a way no one had before, filled me with anticipation. I believed that his climaxes would be more powerful than before. That he would fill me up, and I would find traces of him on me throughout the day. That I wouldn’t be able to contain it all. That my stomach, or back, or face, or side would be entirely covered by his copious, thick, steady release.

But then something else happened. I felt Luke’s pelvis collide with mine. But this time, there was only his pelvis.

The rhythmic slap of his body against mine resonated through the room. The sound of my lubricated folds, the fluids moving between his mound and mine, squished rhythmically.

And then I felt it. Had he reverted to his usual rhythm?

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he grunted, “It’s just me.”

“But I can’t feel anything. Are you alright?”

He let out a loud groan. I felt a mere spurt from his manhood inside me.

And then he collapsed on top of me.

I was utterly baffled.

As I lay there with Luke sprawled on top of me, I once again felt enlarged.

I slid my hand down, between his body and mine, and encountered the dampness. I felt the stickiness of semen delivered just below the surface. I slid my fingers inside me, in a manner that was becoming all too familiar, and scooped out the bit of semen that was still inside me. My two and then three fingers scarcely produced any sensation inside my distended opening.

Then I reached up slightly and encountered Luke’s tiny penis. It had shriveled since he climaxed. It felt incredibly small. I gave it a quick stroke with my thumb and index finger to release the last bit of semen – a technique I’d picked up from my ex. But with him, I needed to use my whole hand.

Luke rolled off me, but I remained exactly as I was.

Confused. But also, surprisingly, satisfied. Something unexpected had happened in the last thirty minutes. The guy I really liked, who could indeed pleasure me with his petite penis, had somehow managed to pleasure me in another way.

I scanned the room. Lying in the corner of the bed was what appeared to be a colossal dildo. Only a black piece of fabric was attached to its base.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yes.”

“Can you untie me real quick?”

“Absolutely.”

He untied my right hand, and I managed to untie my left. I sat up, crawled to the end of the bed, and grabbed the colossal artificial phallus. Just then, I felt Luke’s hands on my hips.

“May I?” He asked.

I knew what he wanted. He was already eager to have me. And in this compromising position, who could blame him? But I asked, “What’s this?”

I held out the dildo towards him. Luke looked at it, as if he knew exactly what it was.

He said, “That’s my strap-on.”

“Uh, what do you want me to do with it?”

“It’s not so much what you are to do with it but what I just did with it.”

“What?”

“Here. Hand it to me.”

I handed him the hefty piece of equipment.

He positioned the dildo just above his own small penis, wrapped the strap around his waist, clicked something in the back, and held his hands to the side.

“See?” He said, with a touch of triumph

“Is that what your surprise was?”

“Exactly. What did you think?” Luke asked.

Seeing Luke standing there, his modest endowment overshadowed by the unexpected gift, stirred a complex cocktail of emotions within me. I found myself smiling because I was touched that he had thought to get me something he believed I would enjoy. Yet I also felt a twinge of sadness that he thought he had to go to such drastic lengths as purchasing this much larger device to please me. Had our last intimate encounter not been incredibly satisfying? Hadn’t I just experienced a mind-blowing session mere minutes ago? I was undeniably bewildered, but also…

Powerful.

Once again, I felt an authentic sense of dominance or strength. When being penetrated by a larger phallus, I felt vulnerable. Just like a moment ago when I lay there, simply absorbing Luke’s thrusts. I was immobilized. The power of his larger phallus compelled me to remain still, moaning, yielding, widening, being dominated and taken. He could do whatever he desired. My vagina merely welcomed the intruder. Clasping the girth with its walls initially, then gradually loosening to accommodate. I cherished the feeling of fullness that it brought; it gave me a sense of being almost virginal. But at the same time, I loathed feeling almost virginal.

I adored when Luke made love to me with his modestly sized penis. It was a penis, not a cock. Even without being impaled by his gift to me, I could often only feel his initial entry, and then my spacious vagina would expand so much that I could barely perceive his thrusts. He would simply prod me with his modest member. That drove me wild. I would move and rhythmically match his movements. I didn’t just lie there.

I loved my expansive vagina.

I. Loved. My. Expansive. Vagina.

And he both understood and didn’t understand that.

 

 

I finally replied, “Luke, if you enjoyed it, then I enjoyed it.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment. “I thought you might like it.”

“I did. But I want you to understand that I appreciate you just the way you are. Your member is perfect, precisely because of its modest size, and you didn’t have to change anything about it, nor do anything drastic. I love being intimate with you,” I reassured him, although referring to his penis as a cock didn’t feel entirely sincere. I don’t think he picked up on that.

“Okay. That makes sense. I just thought I’d give it a try.”

“Thank you for considering my feelings so deeply and caring about my satisfaction. It means the world to me.”

He nodded and smiled. I think that cleared up any confusion.

“Now, what should we do tonight?” I asked as I stood up from the bed.

Wait. That was strange. I wasn’t sore like the last time I was with a man of such ample size. I felt wet down there, and open, but not in pain. It was just…normal, as if I had had a regular sexual encounter, but nothing out of the ordinary. Could Luke have stumbled upon the secret? Could I have discovered the secret? Could I have an intense session with a well-endowed man and still walk without difficulty the next day? Was it really just about finding the right person?

I stopped myself from further entertaining that thought. Shook my head to clear it.

“I’m going to take a shower. Anything special you’d like me to do while I’m in there?” I asked, winking.

“Surprise me,” Luke responded.

I strolled across the room, my private area glistening, dripping, soaked, to the bathroom. I promptly turned the water on and stepped in.

As I massaged my body with my body wash, I gently coaxed the last lingering bit of Luke’s release from my body. Even though he didn’t release much, some of it still clung to my insides, outer lips, and, if the timing was right, my hair. I explored the area and noticed a small bit of stubble. I reached for the razor. Then I stopped myself. I can do what I want, I thought. I’m not shaving until I feel like it.

Then I second-guessed myself and decided just to shave my legs. A woman can only handle so much change in one day.

The weekend with Luke was an astonishing mix of romance and intimate encounters. We had our dinner at the university hotel restaurant that evening, and I was genuinely taken aback when he mentioned that he had reserved a room for us. We had sex just like we used to, unpretentious and affectionate. It was akin to being enveloped in a warm bath, providing comfort and familiarity. It stood in stark contrast to the passionate and uncontrolled desire I had experienced earlier that afternoon.

Saturday was undoubtedly one of the best days. We went for an adventurous hike at a nearby mountain and state park. When we returned, we found ourselves in a race against time to prepare for our dinner reservation. Then, for the first time, I gave Luke a hand job. Unlike my past experiences, I didn’t have to exhaust my arm stroking up and down his member. Instead, I just held his petite member in my hand and massaged the head with my thumb. It was quite an easy experience. And when he climaxed, it wasn’t an explosive event. Just a small emission from his adorable little member. Each time, I can’t help but reflect on how minuscule his testicles must be. They are not massive and weighty like other guys’. Instead, they resemble tiny grapes, neatly tucked up close to the base of his small shaft.

After dinner, we returned to the hotel, and he gave me another sensational, intimate experience. It was reminiscent of our encounter from a couple of weekends ago. There was an increased amount of fingering and thrusting. We concluded our passionate session with another attempt at using his colossal gift. To my surprise, in the aftermath of my orgasm, I found myself agreeing to give it another try. It was a real revelation, revealing a side of my desires that I hadn’t known existed.

Once Luke had dropped me off at my sorority house early on Sunday morning, I messaged the girls to let them know I was back in the real world. I told them to give me a heads-up if they were heading for breakfast, as I had so much to unpack, share, and, hopefully, gather some opinions on.

They were, of course, all too ready and eager to provide their input.

We met at the student union coffee shop. As we waited in line to place our orders, Sam and Rebecca caught me up on their classes from the past week. In return, I shared stories about the beautiful hotel and the fantastic hike Luke and I had embarked upon. Jackie, however, was unusually quiet. She didn’t seem upset, but she wasn’t her usual bubbly self.

We collected our coffees and breakfast sandwiches and found a spot to sit down.

“Okay, I need to ask something that’s been on my mind since Friday night,” I began.

The girls responded in perfect sync, “YES!”

“First off, you need to know that I really like Luke. And two weekends ago, I pretty much had the best sex of my life. Or so I thought until Friday. That’s when, and this is the part I need advice on, Luke introduced this massive dildo that he strapped on. Like, his penis went into the base of it, and the whole thing was secured with a belt. It was enormous, and…”

Jackie interjected, “It’s a penis extension, Kaili. Also known as a sleeve.”

“Ah. That makes sense because it was indeed quite extensive,” I responded, and we all burst into laughter. However, Jackie’s laugh was noticeably softer.

“Anyway,” I continued, “the way he used it was just, how can I put this lightly, mind-blowing! I’ve been filled like that before, although I can’t remember when, but this time it didn’t hurt. He somehow took me to the stars and back, and I wasn’t sore afterward. And then, when he used just his penis, while I couldn’t feel much, I felt powerful, like an Amazon.”

My friends seemed a bit surprised by my openness.

Breaking the silence, I asked, “Too much?”

“No, not at all,” Sam responded. “I just don’t think you’ve ever referred to Luke’s, um, should we call it a cock?”

“Probably not,” I chuckled. “Let’s call it a ‘wee-wee.'”

That brought a smile to Jackie’s face.

“Okay, guys, I can’t keep it in anymore,” Jackie blurted out.

“Okay?” Sam questioned.

“I slept with Jeff.”

We all paused. We knew that she had been seeing Jeff. That was the entire reason this journey began.

“Jack, we know that,” Rebecca scoffed.

“No, I mean, yes, I know you know that. What I meant… well, it’s about Luke’s gift to you. I can’t keep this secret anymore.”

My curiosity was seriously piqued, and I could tell my surprise was clear on my face.

“Kai,” Jackie went on, “A couple of Sundays back, Luke was in the kitchen grabbing some water for you two. I was there too. We were alone. And he asked me if I had any ideas about what to gift you for your birthday. I told him I had no clue, but I’d think about it. Then he said, like he’d been giving it some serious thought, ‘Well, I have an idea, but I might need your help in getting it.’ I was like, okay, what is it? Then he asked me if I had ever mentioned a guy at school who was really great in bed.”

I swallowed hard.

“I told him I wasn’t comfy answering that. But he said it was cool, that it had to do with your present. So I mentioned a few names, one of them being Jeff. He asked if it was the same Jeff I was seeing. I told him we weren’t exactly dating, just that Jeff isn’t the relationship type. He kinda laughed at that. Then he asked if I thought Jeff was the best you’d had. I said I didn’t know about the best, but definitely one you’d talked about more than any other.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Just let me get this out. He asked me what made Jeff so great. I told him I wasn’t comfortable discussing that, especially given what I know about Luke. But he insisted I tell him. So I said that it was Jeff’s huge dick.”

“Oh, Jesus, Jackie!” Rebecca exclaimed, clearly coming to my defense.

“No, wait! I swear this is a good thing, at least I think,” Jackie defended herself. “He asked me, and I’m so sorry for not saying anything sooner, if I’d be willing to get a mold of Jeff’s dick.”

Sam gasped and looked over at me, clearly concerned about how I was taking this.

“I told him I had no idea how to do that. He told me to wait in the kitchen, and he’d be back.”

I suddenly remembered that day when Luke took a while to bring back our water. Now it all clicked. A rush of anger and confusion hit me, but I didn’t know what to say.

“He came back with this box. Inside it was a kit for making a mold of a guy’s dick. I told him I’d see what I could do. And, of course, Jeff was only too willing to help with something like this.”

I looked down.

“Kaili, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“So, hold on,” Sam cut in. “That extension is based on Jeff?”

“Yes,” Jackie confirmed.

“Yes,” I echoed. “That’s why it felt so amazing.”

The girls were still chatting away, but my mind was already miles away. I felt like I was stuck in some weird time warp. Finally, I just needed some alone time, and I made my way back to my room.

My brain was working at a million miles per hour. How could Luke have put Jackie in such a position? How could she have agreed? And Jeff, participating in such a bizarre request? Although knowing Jeff, he was never one to shy away from something quirky or outrageous. But the biggest question was, why hadn’t I figured it out sooner? There was something weirdly familiar about the toy Luke had gifted me, but it never crossed my mind that it was modeled on something I’d already experienced.

I was just lying on my bed, replaying all the weird and crazy things that had happened in the last couple of months, when my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Luke. “Hey, Kai, just letting you know I got home safe. Can’t wait to see you again. You free tonight?”

A mix of anger and confusion flooded me. I tapped out a reply almost instantly, “What do you want me to do tonight? Or should I ask who?”

Send.

Crap.

There was no taking that back.

I watched those annoying little dots, indicating he was typing a reply. Then they stopped. Nothing.

I waited for a minute—still nothing. No reply. No typing.

Nothing.

In a fit of frustration, I threw my phone onto the bed and stormed off to the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink. “What the actual fuck is going on?!?!” I shouted at my reflection.

“That’s it,” I said to myself. “I need sleep.”

I quickly stripped off my clothes, put on my comfiest sweats, and slid under the covers.

I was so exhausted from the roller coaster ride of a weekend that I passed out almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

When I finally woke up, I found myself bombarded with missed calls, voicemails, and an avalanche of text messages—all of them from Luke.

“Kai, what’s going on?”

“Please pick up.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think I understand what you meant now. Please call me.”

“It’s about Friday, isn’t it?”

“I’ve tried calling. Please call me back.”

“We need to talk this out. Please call me.”

“Left you a voicemail.”

“I’ll try to call you again in the morning.”

The voicemails were mostly Luke sounding confused and worried, asking if he had done something to upset me, and urging me to call him back.

Still somewhat groggy, I decided to cut through the confusion.

“Luke,” I texted back, “I had a chat with Jackie. She told me everything.”

My phone started ringing almost immediately. It was Luke.

“Hello,” I answered, keeping my tone flat and distant.

“Hey, Kai, can we talk?”

“I have about five minutes before I have to leave for class.”

“Okay. Can I just dive right into it?”

“Go ahead,” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, “it’s interesting how you’re asking for my consent before doing something now.”

“I know, I know. I should have talked to you before I went ahead with my plan.”

“You mean the plan to get my friend to make a mold of her boyfriend’s dick?”

“Yes, exactly that. I should have talked to you first. I thought…”

“You thought what?” I interjected. “What did you think, Luke?”

He sighed. “Honestly, Kaili, I had been considering getting some kind of sex toy since we first started dating a couple of months ago. I was unsure about what to get, or what style you might prefer.”

“So you decided on Jackie’s boyfriend?”

“Well, when I asked Jackie who she thought you had the best sex with in college, she didn’t hesitate to say his name.”

His honesty and the consistency of his story with Jackie’s took me by surprise. At least they were telling me the same story. That was a small relief.

“Okay, go on…” I urged him to continue.

“I took a chance. I bought the mold for myself, as a little keepsake for you while I was away. But then it struck me: what if I could get Jackie to make a mold of Jeff for me? When she agreed, I thought it would make a unique gift for you. After all, she told me that you were more into his size than mine, which hurt, but I thought it might be true.”

“I don’t feel that way!” I protested.

“I know, I know. But I thought that, given my experience and my desire to please you, I could use it better than he could. Jackie told me he was quite rough and relied heavily on his size. I’ve never been like that, so I thought with the help of his, well, size sheathed over mine, I might be able to really blow your mind.”

His honesty was startling. It showed he was genuinely trying to think about my pleasure, even if his methods were certainly unorthodox.

“Luke, I wish we had discussed this beforehand,” I sighed, “I would have been honest with you, like you’ve been with me now. But now, Jackie knows I’ve been… well, using a copy of her boyfriend’s penis for my pleasure. And Jeff probably knows too. God, who else could they have told?”

“I understand,” he admitted, “I should have talked it over with you first. I was so caught up in the idea of surprising you, I didn’t think it through.”

I paused, taking in his words, weighing them against my feelings.

“Kaili?”

“I’m here, Luke. I want you to know that I forgive you. I see that your intentions were good. You just… went a bit overboard. I need to get ready for class now. Can we talk more later?”

“When?”

“Tonight. I plan to stay in.”

“Can I call you at 8?”

“That sounds good. Talk to you then, Luke.”

I made my way to class, completely engrossed in a curiously riveting lecture, though the details slipped my mind afterward. Upon returning to my room, the whispers about Luke and his ‘talent’ had stirred a provocative curiosity within me.

Upon stepping into my room, I shed my clothes, drawn towards the bathroom mirror. Over recent years, I’d fostered a habit of affirmative self-dialogue, but it was only lately that I’d begun this practice in my nudity.

I stood, my arms resting by my sides, my eyes slowly appreciating my body: my lightened locks, a memoir of leisurely afternoons lounging on the quad. Next, my eyes met my own in the mirror, the azure depth evoking memories of my idyllic Big Island upbringing. Down to my chin, it’s a slight dimple lending an intriguing distinction from the ordinary.

Then, my gaze traced down to my breasts. As I’ve confided before, my left breast, with its unique shape and downwards-pointing nipple, was once a source of insecurity. But Luke’s tender reassurances had reframed it as an enticing quirk, a testament to my individuality and strength.

Continuing this intimate visual exploration, I appreciated the soft curve of my belly and FUPA – invitingly plush, not a hint of flab or hardness. As my eyes reached the mirror’s lower edge, I noted the light stubble beginning to dot my bikini line. Straining onto my tiptoes for a better perspective, my arms extended upwards, my left breast slightly flattened, and my FUPA subtly tightened, allowing me to glimpse my sparingly grown pubic hair. But it was the delicate stubble under my arms that arrested my attention.

With a step back from the mirror, I kept my arm raised, my fingers delicately tracing the underarm stubble. Its prickly texture, rough against my fingertips, stirred an unexpected sensation. The alternation between the slightly scratchy backside and the softer, more sensitive underside of my fingers kept me entranced. The intimate exploration evoked a twinge of arousal deep within my lower belly, an unignorable stirring.

Curiosity piqued, I found myself wondering if the texture of my pubic hair mirrored that of my underarm stubble. As I lowered my left arm, my breast returned to its usual, relaxed position, the nipple naturally directed towards the floor. I guided my hand downwards, exploring the edge of my bikini line where hair met unblemished skin. The sensation was distinct – my pubic hair was more robust, stiffer, and, given enough time, would achieve a fuller thickness.

In that moment, I made a personal vow: I would allow both my underarm and pubic hair to flourish naturally, unconcerned with societal norms or expectations. I would embrace my body in its most authentic form.

My curiosity, now a fervor, stirred deeper desires. With my body slightly prickly from my recent decision to let nature run its course, I found myself intrigued about how self-stimulation would feel.

I started drifting towards my bed, planning to slide beneath the cozy warmth of the sheets. But then, a sudden thought paused my steps. A truth I confessed to the empty room, “I’ve never really indulged in porn before.”

Reversing my course, I moved back to my desk and woke my laptop from its sleep. As it hummed back to life, I murmured to myself, “What should I look for?” The array of categories was overwhelming – woman with woman, man with woman, man with man, even an enigmatic ‘BBC’.

Once the loading icon disappeared, I fired up an incognito tab and typed ‘porn for women’. The first result seemed promising, so I clicked. The page that loaded was a montage of thumbnail images featuring men with improbable dimensions, women gazing at them with wide-eyed awe. Although these images didn’t echo my preferences, curiosity compelled me to click on one of the videos.

On-screen, a woman was enthusiastically undressing her partner. His imposing size, once unveiled, provoked in her a look of shock intertwined with raw desire. She grasped him with both hands, descending upon him with a level of dedication bordering on professionalism.

This wasn’t what I was seeking, but it sparked a revelation within me.

Back to the search bar, I keyed in “Small Penis” and hit enter. A fresh set of videos appeared, one with a suggestive title, “Small Penis Sex with Blonde”.

I thought, “This might just be it.”

Feeling a powerful sense of anticipation, I primed myself for the imminent journey of self-exploration. Spitting into my hand, I slicked my middle three fingers and started to tenderly stroke my entrance, even though I was already slick with arousal.

I pressed play on the video. It kicked off with a close-up of a man’s organ, which, while labeled ‘small’, was indeed larger than Luke’s. The man lay on his back, the camera granting a view from between his legs. His testicles were compact and taut, much like Luke’s, his arousal standing firm and pointing towards the sky. A woman then entered the frame, gracefully lowering herself onto him. Much like with Luke, his entrance was smooth, requiring no assistance. But unlike Luke, his pace was swift and frenzied, culminating in a climax within barely a minute. During those sixty seconds, I fervently rubbed my clit. As he reached his crescendo, a considerable amount of semen glazed his organ while he continued to thrust. The volume was truly surprising. As his pleasure spiked, mine mirrored it. A powerful orgasm swept through me. The thought of Luke, smaller than this man, categorized as ‘small’, with tinier testicles and lesser ejaculate, intensified my pleasure. My muscles relaxed, my body writhing in ecstasy, and my fingers slipped easily inside me.

Alone in my room, the only limit was my own willingness to explore, to push past the boundaries of our shared experiences. A question fluttered in my heart: Could I find more within me, more pleasure in my own touch, more depth in my own capacity to feel?

Emboldened, I began moving my fingers, guided by the memory of Luke yet determined to venture further. Tentatively at first, then more boldly, I let one finger after another slide deeper, three from each hand. A new sensation bloomed within me, the feeling of being stretched wide in a way I’d never dared before.

My fingers, now three from each hand already plunged deep, started a rhythmic dance, imitating Luke’s signature figure-eight movement, swirling inside myself before shifting to gentle circular motions. I intended to push my limits, to stretch myself in a way I’d never explored before.

 

 

I slowly started to part my inner folds—first, just a hair’s breadth, then a full centimeter. After allowing myself a moment’s rest, my fingers still buried deep, I applied a gentle pull again. This time, it was a whole inch, followed by another brief pause. I continued this pattern, each pull and pause bringing me closer to my goal. I took a deep breath and, with all my courage, gave one final tug. The breath I’d drawn was forced out as my hands stretched my folds apart, my body reacting to the intense pressure. The cool brush of my own breath hit the base of both my hands – a term I remembered from my anatomy class, ‘thenar’ – and wafted towards my parted entrance. It was an invigorating sensation.

Inhaling once more, I readied myself for another gentle pull. This time, the stretch was more distinct. I held it there, counting out loud to ten, the internal pressure building.

I then slowly withdrew my fingers. The sensation of my widened self was unfamiliar yet intriguing. A curiosity sparked within me, wondering just how far I could stretch myself.

I snatched a hand mirror from my desk, arranging it to give myself a clear view of my intimate area. I took a moment to observe my bare, natural self. Glistening and mildly stretched, an interplay of soft pink, deep red, and a hint of brown was visible, framed by short tufts of hair. This was my body, raw and primal. It was a sight that evoked awe in me.

Maintaining the mirror’s position, I returned to my earlier method. I positioned both hands within me, readied myself, took a deep breath, and began to draw my inner walls apart. My reflection was the witness as my entrance expanded, the darkness within slowly giving way to light. The sight of my own expansive interior prompted a smile. Bolstered, I continued to spread my opening even wider.

With my legs spread as wide as possible, I formed a fist with my right hand and cautiously inserted it into my already accommodating hollow. Despite my hand’s small size, its addition significantly expanded my dilated void. I removed my left hand, leaving only my right fist resting inside. With unwavering resolve, I committed to holding this position for a full sixty seconds. One entire minute with the largest object that had ever filled me.

As I initiated the countdown, my mind wandered to Luke. A soft smile graced my lips as I pictured him delicately positioning his diminutive member within me and not thrusting, merely placing like gently laying it down on the lower ridge of my capacious interior. My expansiveness dwarfed his smallness. Imagining him thrusting into what must feel like an infinite space, only to release his modest emission deep within me, stirred a powerful emotion in me.

To my surprise, I realized I was on the brink of another climax.

Was I about to reach another peak?

Indeed, I was!

The sheer idea of Luke’s futile thrusts within my expanded self was enough to trigger another powerful wave of pleasure.

Once the convulsions had subsided, I carefully withdrew my fist, picked up my phone, and dialed Luke’s number.

“Luke. No, nothing is wrong. I need you here now,” I instructed firmly. “No room for debate. I need you here right now.”

Luke was only an hour away in his apartment when my urgent call reached him. Fifty minutes later, he stood at my doorstep, his expression a cocktail of anxiety and trepidation.

Since hanging up the call with him, I’d been consistently stretching and expanding myself, pushing my body to its utmost limits. The forgotten softball bat tucked away in the corner of my room became a tool, lubricated with the remnants of the lube from Luke’s last visit. I was determined to widen myself, hence I inserted the thicker end of the bat.

Before his arrival, I had messaged the front desk attendant, instructing her to let Luke up as soon as he got there. When he finally stepped into my room after a gentle knock, I withdrew my hands from the gaping expanse between my legs. Laid out on my bed, legs splayed wide, I presented my engorged anatomy towards the room’s entrance. With my head comfortably nested on a pillow, Luke was greeted with nothing but the sight of my dilated self. I wanted him to witness my moistened and unusually wide vagina, its rich red and brown shades encircled by pink folds and stubbly hair. Above them, my perfectly round right breast pointed upwards, while my left breast, slightly slumping, rested in my soon-to-be-hairy armpit. I wanted him to understand that I was so expansive he could be lost inside me, and that his entry would barely be noticeable. To ensure this, I had previously run an experiment to see what would happen if I simply let go. For about two minutes, the opening held a diameter of roughly an inch and a half.

“What’s happening?” Luke questioned, his voice wavering with confusion.

“Take me,” was my sharp response.

“Are you alright?” Concern saturated his voice.

“Take me,” I repeated.

“Kaili…”

“Luke,” I cut him off, making my desire for him and his petite manhood clear.

Without any further hesitation, Luke stripped down to his nudity, revealing his small, yet fully erect member. The sight of it was fascinating. Unlike larger phalluses, it did not sway or bobble when he set it free from his pants. Instead, it aimed straight ahead, uninfluenced by gravity’s pull. The thin layer of hair surrounding its base glistened with the sweat gathered during his nerve-wracking journey to my sorority house. I hadn’t really noticed the sparsity of his pubic hair, especially compared to my soon-to-be lush bush. His tiny testicles had retracted into his body, rendering his scrotum nearly invisible. Knowing he was the smallest I’d ever had, and the only one I wished ever to have, filled me with delight.

He entered me. The sensation was almost non-existent, precisely what I wanted.

As he moved in a steady rhythm, completely retreating with each thrust, I couldn’t help but laugh.

After a minute of his vigorous efforts and my uncontrollable giggling, I asked him to “Hold on.”

Reaching down, I resumed my earlier task, expanding myself further than before, the exertion evident in my straining arms and shoulders.

With a grimace from the stretching, I grunted, “Take me.”

Luke sprang into action. His hips collided with my hands, but I felt nothing else. He repeated the action. And again. His enthusiastic plunging into the void was both absurd and entertaining.

His moans and grunts echoed around the room until, just as I had envisioned, he released his barely perceptible load deep within my cavernous depths. After his three minor squirts had delicately and briefly filled my spacious entrance, he withdrew and slumped into my desk chair, utterly spent.

Still in my stretched position, I slowly slid to the edge of the bed and stood. Each droplet of his semen trickled onto the floor, ejected simply by gravity. There was no need for me to make any effort.

Once the last drop had fallen, I turned to Luke and voiced my appreciation for his tiny manhood and practically invisible balls. They made me feel empowered, like a giantess displaying her prized possession. I didn’t need his toy. I didn’t yearn for the feeling of another penis inside me, even though I could easily have it. What I craved was the profound absence of sensation his manhood offered when inside me. I needed him to understand that from this point onwards, I would ceaselessly remind him of how much I loved his tiny, barely-there package, whether we were in private or public.

His response was instant: “I’m looking forward to it.”

Epilogue

During my freshman year of college, Luke and I began dating, and our relationship persisted through graduation and even a year beyond. We shared a deep love, and for nearly five years, we remained faithful to one another.

The girls in my sorority were extraordinarily supportive. They never questioned my choices, nor did they tempt me with the idea of being with other students. Despite occasional jokes suggesting that I was missing out on part of the college experience, I was entirely content with Luke.

Our relationship was one-of-a-kind.

Throughout our time together, I chose not to shave my bikini area or armpits. However, I did maintain the smoothness of my legs, and to the surprise of those who saw me in a bikini, I shaved my belly just down to where my pubic hair began. It was not uncommon for people to stare as I walked by the pool, beach, or any public place where I wore a swimsuit. The sight of the hair peeping out from the sides and top of my bikini bottoms drew curious looks. Strands could also be seen protruding from the back of my thong, trailing from the crease of my bottom. I kept my legs smooth, eyebrows well-maintained, and any hint of a mustache was swiftly dealt with.

In essence, I had to maintain a certain level of professionalism. During my summer internships on Capitol Hill, I often wore business suits. Sometimes these outfits would reveal a bit of my belly when I reached up. I didn’t want constituents or colleagues to know that beneath my professional attire, I sported a full bush.

Our intimate life was exceptional. Luke never expressed any displeasure with my occasional need for stretching. Often, our sexual encounters were reminiscent of the early days of our relationship. Luke’s skill ensured that I reached climax almost every time. However, about once a week, I sought a deeper exploration, pushing my stretching limits. After a year, I’d become so comfortable with this that I could open almost four inches wide. When I shared this with my friends, Sam, Rebecca, and Jackie, they were astounded. Sam tried it once and confessed to being overcome with pain at about two inches. For me, however, the pain was a stepping stone to my goal.

Luke and I cherished our intimate moments post-stretching sessions. I barely registered anything except the pressure of his hips colliding against my hands and wrists, or the occasional brush against my walls as he moved.

And he always climaxed. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but he always managed in two or three quick spurts. Our unique connection, our shared experiences, and our openness were the perfect blend for us.

During one of Luke’s trips to DC, I proposed an idea. I suggested tidying up his below-the-belt hair, which had grown somewhat wild over the years. The hair’s unruliness often concealed his private area. The head was barely visible, nestled within a thicket of light-brown, nearly blonde but coarse hair. His testicles, no longer hanging as they used to, were hidden within the overgrown locks.

He agreed. That evening, in the comfort of the apartment he rented for me, I led him to the upscale bathroom. Standing bare on a towel, I began tending to the forested area around his manhood. Hair cascaded onto the towel with each pass of the trimmer. Even on medium, the trimmer could only cover about half the area.

Switching to the lowest setting, I was cautious not to nick him. As I reduced the hair to its shortest length, an unusual thought crossed my mind. “What if I removed all of it? His pubic area, his chest, his thighs – everything. Intriguing.”

Gently, I managed the hair on his testicles, which ended up looking quite peculiar. This was the first time I had scrutinized it so closely.

“Stay here,” I instructed him.

“I’m not going anywhere. But, Kai, can I at least have a towel? I’m freezing!”

“Sure. Actually, why not start the shower and get in? I’ll join you in a moment.”

He complied.

As I discarded my evening dress, sans underwear, an unfamiliar excitement coursed through me – a mix of power and apprehension.

Joining Luke in the shower, armed with a razor and shaving cream, I found him understandably puzzled.

“What’s that for?” Luke questioned.

“You’ll see.”

I smoothed the shaving cream over his now-trimmed area and playfully swiped at the hair just above his manhood with the razor.

“Kaili, jeez!” Luke cried out.

“Oh no,” I pretended to be upset, “Now I have to clean up the whole area.”

Not waiting for any objection, I covered his lower abdomen, up to his neck, and his thighs with the cream.

Despite looking terrified, he remained still.

He was the picture of obedience the entire time I shaved him completely.

“Turn around and rinse off,” I instructed.

He did. “Now turn around and let me see.”

He complied.

There it was, his erection pointing directly at me. Now fully visible without the surrounding hair, it was rather amusing. The sense of power returned, stronger this time. I leaned forward and took him entirely in my mouth, but not deep enough to reach my throat, and decided to bring his newly shaved balls in as well.

When I woke up the next morning, there was an odd knot in my stomach—the night before had been incredible. Luke and I had spent the night in each other’s arms, dreamily planning our future together, even tossing around the idea of sharing a home once my current lease – which he generously took care of – came to an end.

But as the morning light trickled in, a pang of uncertainty began to cloud my sunny thoughts of our life together.

Luke, freshly shaven and looking noticeably different, had left an impression that was hard to shake. Did I push too far? Did my curiosity threaten our perfect little world?

This unsettling feeling of guilt made me feel like I’d let him down in some way.

Gingerly, I peeled back the sheets from his sleeping form beside me. As I gazed at his now hairless self, I realized that the attraction was strangely missing.

Replacing the covers gently, I slipped out of bed and headed for a quick shower. When I came out, Luke was still fast asleep.

I left him a note, “Luke, I needed some fresh air. Back soon.”

I headed to our favorite local coffee shop, settling into my regular corner. Not long after, a stranger walked in. He was taller than Luke, with mysterious dark features and a softer physique. He was casually chic, in jeans, a stylish button-down, and loafers. He looked around Luke’s age, which meant he was slightly older than me.

He asked if he could sit at my table.

“I’m just about to go,” I replied, misunderstanding his intention.

“I meant, could I join *you* for coffee. I’m Gareth,” he clarified.

“Oh, I see. I’m Kaili.”

Our conversation flowed naturally, lasting much longer than I’d anticipated – almost an hour.

Returning to the apartment, I found Luke awake and busy in the kitchen making breakfast.

Entering the kitchen, I shared with Luke my encounter with Gareth and how I felt an intriguing spark with him. I sensed Gareth could become a significant chapter in my life.

Luke’s face went ashen, the dish towel slipping from his grasp. “I…I don’t understand,” he managed to utter.

I tried to explain that I was yearning for a change, that my infatuation with him had faded. Maybe I could explore this new spark with Gareth.

What ensued was the kind of emotional turmoil that breakups typically entail.

Gareth and I hit it off quite smoothly and spent a blissful year together. However, our relationship eventually took a turn for the worse. Gareth was physically quite different from Luke, more…substantial.

While with Gareth, I decided to shed my old habits from the Luke era, like maintaining my pubic and underarm hair. It was a symbolic way of severing ties with the past. During my time with Gareth, I stayed fully shaven and adopted Kegel exercises, a change that Gareth found quite thrilling given his larger size. His touches were much more profound, leaving a lasting impression.

Over time, I completely cut off all contact with Luke. Our paths occasionally crossed at work events in DC, but we never exchanged more than a curt nod. What was left to say, after all?

After Gareth and I parted ways, I moved to Colorado to start anew. I got married, adopted a furry companion, and bought a house. My red-headed husband and I enjoy what you’d call standard carnal pleasures. We keep our pasts tucked away safely – in the past.

Sometimes, during the throes of passion with my husband, I find myself reminiscing about Luke. A part of me yearns for that unique connection we had – the way Luke used to fill me up perfectly, his smaller size creating a peculiar kind of intimacy. But I know that what Luke and I had was singular, a pairing that’s irreplaceable.

Epilogue and Conclusion

Several years after parting ways with Luke, an unexpected text from Sam, an old college buddy, lit up my phone. She had some news about Luke and Jackie, another friend from our college days. Sam dropped a bombshell: Jackie and Luke were a couple now, picking up where he and I had left off. They even continued the intimate rituals that he and I had once shared, with a few tweaks.

Unlike me, Jackie hadn’t altered her body hair. She didn’t see herself in the dominant role as I once did, but she savored the profound sensation of stretching herself to her limits. So, she welcomed our unusual intimate ritual, keeping herself wide open for Luke’s tender dance within her.

And then came the real shocker: Jackie had opted for a cosmetic surgery to enlarge her vaginal width permanently. When Jackie revealed her altered self to Sam, our friend was astounded by the sheer magnitude of the opening. It was there, without any effort of stretching on Jackie’s part. From what Sam shared, both Luke and Jackie were thrilled with the change.

Intrigued, I found myself scrolling through Luke’s social media feed. His posts were punctuated with photos of him and Jackie, their faces aglow with joy and satisfaction. A surge of relief washed over me, seeing that Luke had found someone who accepted him as he was and embraced our peculiar, intimate rituals.

When I asked Sam about her in-depth knowledge of their intimacy, she said Jackie was an open book. Jackie had brazenly asked in their group chat whether anyone knew a good gynecologist who could perform the procedure she sought. Jackie was so forthcoming that she even shared explicit details about the operation and its aftermath. Her objective was clear: to bypass the need for stretching, to better feel Luke’s soft, gentle entrance.

I won’t deny that my chat with Sam stirred something within me. A twinge of arousal pulsed through me, a subconscious response to those memories, and a familiar moist warmth stirred. But as I lay next to my husband, texting Sam from our snug home in Colorado, a deep sense of peace quelled the flicker of desire. My past was no longer a buried secret but a tale to be shared, an essential part of my journey that added depth to the happiness I now felt. The woman I was now didn’t exist despite my past, but because of it. My unique experiences have shaped me, paving the way to my present — a life filled with love, acceptance, and the liberating comfort of unapologetically being myself.

 

The End.

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