Dicky Gets His Reward

By RandyKneeling.

“Richard, it’s time for the main course. After that, you can do whatever you want.”

My wife pushed me down between her legs, the place I spent most of my time pleasing her. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not complaining. Mary was tall, with a slender body, long-toned legs, and a lusty libido. I’m an unremarkable man whose best feature is a thick head of dark, wavy hair. Not much to go on if you’re a guy. In short, she was more than I deserved. She was being assertive because we both wanted her to be.

“Ooooo, that’s it, give me that sweet, sweet tongue. The part that bushes and licks me nice and slow. You know how I like it. That’s my good little pussyboy!”

I used both hands to brush her dense pubic hair to the sides, stroking her damp labia and using the moisture to slick the hair back. She kept it natural because I love how it looks, but a job like this requires a clear workspace. As I settled in and began to stoke her fires, she returned the favor with words I couldn’t get enough of.

“I’m so glad you like this as much as I do, Dicky. I just love to see your little guy stiffen up when you lick me. You know you’ve got the cutest little pecker I’ve ever seen. I’ve been thinking about sucking it all day. Would you like me to suck it for you? Would you like me to let you stick it into my mouth? You wouldn’t hit the back, but at least you can try to fill my mouth. I bet you want to fill my mouth with your cum, don’t you? Pump your little load into your sweet wife’s mouth and make me swallow it?”

My moans were all the answers she needed to hear. She knew what her words did to me. Small penis humiliation was my fetish, and Mary knew the perfect balance of tender and rough to feed my libido. My erect penis is a thin 4″, and I never get tired of being humiliated for it. I soaked it in as I ate her with more passion, getting swept up in the journey I was taking her on. I knew what she liked and how to give it to her. She continued to tease me until she lost the power of speech playfully. As her climax approached, I wrapped my arms around her thighs to keep her from bucking me off. After she quieted down, I crawled up to kiss her face and share her love. She reached down and began toying with my rigid prick.

“That was amazing, baby! You’re the best pussy licker a girl could ever want. Do you think that’s a coincidence, or is it because you have such a small dick?”

I kissed her again and sucked passionately on her earlobe, conveying my message without words. Not just “Yes, I have a small dick,” but rather, “I love it when you tell me I have a small dick!”

“You know how much I enjoy teasing you about it, don’t you?”

“Yes, honey and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It turns you on, which is why it never gets old.”

“You get turned on by my words, but I get turned on by your responses. And lately, I miss the intensity of how you used to respond when this was all new. Would you happen to remember? How would your voice quiver, and you whimper when I told you how small you were? I even remember a few times when my taunting made you shiver. I miss that intensity.”

She stroked me as she murmured in the deep, sultry voice that drove me wild,

“So, I’ve been thinking…”

Uh-oh, I thought. What’s she up to?

“I came up with an idea – a little game. Now, just listen and think about it before you say anything. I want your little secret to get out. Just imagine if one of the girls knew.”

Oh God, the girls. Her group of friends she did everything with. The four of them were inseparable, and when they got together, they encouraged each other to push buttons and limits. I knew they shared many secrets, but she always swore she never revealed my secret to them. But now she’s telling me she wants to. The thought made me pulse a drop of precum into her hand.

“Aw, look at that! That’s so cute, baby. Your little guy is crying out for recognition! He wants someone else to know about him. Maybe even help me tease him.”

“Which one?” I asked, instantly regretting that I sounded like I was already on board. “Which one would you tell?”

“Oh, you’re not going to know who it is. That’s the best part- you’ll wonder which one it is and suspect them all. I think it would be delicious.”

“But where would it lead? I mean, would I ever find out?”

“That’s completely up to you, but I’d incentivize you. You can guess. If you guess right, you get a reward.”

“A reward?” I knew it would be sexual, and the devious look on Mary’s face told me it would be fun for at least one of us.

“The friend I have in mind is guaranteed willing to indulge your little fetish in ways that are sure to rev your perverted motor.”

“Oh my God, that sounds awesome! Wait… what happens if I’m wrong?”

“That follows naturally from the way you’re going to guess. When you think you know, you simply approach her in private and say: ‘I have a small penis.’ If you’re right, she’ll say, ‘I know,’ and from there, I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

“If you’re wrong, I expect she’ll be taken aback, maybe even shocked. I can’t predict what happens after that, but I wonder if it will seem much like a reward. Plus, one more woman would know your secret.”

I thought about it happening and tried to imagine the range of reactions it might get. I kept gravitating to the arousing ones. Maybe it was because little dickie was being stroked so maddeningly slow.

“Even if she wasn’t the one who knew, do you think there’s a chance she would want to play with me anyway?”

“Ha. I guess anything’s possible.”

Mary dismissed it so casually that I was forced to consider the alternative.

“She wouldn’t be mean to me, would she? I mean, do any of your friends have a mean side?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Certainly, they wouldn’t want to hurt you. I think it more likely that they would react with disgust. It might even get you off, but I’m not sure revealing that would be a good idea.”

“Oh, and one other thing you should consider. The game would continue; you can guess again, and your odds would improve.”

Of course, she was right. Initially, I’d have a 1 in 3 chance, but if I guessed wrong, I’d be even money the next time. Plus, I didn’t plan on making wild guesses. Surely, I could detect a difference in how the girl who knew my secret would interact with me. I’d just wait until I gathered enough information to make a highly informed guess.

“Can I think about it first?”

“Of course, baby. You’ll be able to think about it as long as you like. I want you to think about it. In fact, why don’t you think about it right now?”

Her idle fondling became a more rhythmic caress, moving from below my ball sack to the tip of my erection. Now on each trip down, when the palm of her hand covered my balls, she brushed her middle finger lightly over my anus.

“Do you realize how intensely humiliating it would be? To stand in front of another woman and say those words? To look her in the eyes and say, ‘I have a small penis,’ then wait for her reaction while a little piece of your masculinity hangs in the balance? Figuratively, you’d be putting your little balls into her hand, not knowing what she might do.”

She stopped stroking me, and I opened my eyes to see her pulling that finger out of her mouth, a thick drop of saliva hanging from the tip. Then the hand went back down to my balls, and the finger landed right on my hole, applying her saliva and pushing it in. Now each trip down was punctuated by a brief intrusion into my butt hole.

“I can tell you’re thinking about it, Dicky. I can feel you twitching. You want to make a puddle for me, docha baby? Go ahead, Dicky. Shoot it! Squirt for me, baby! Make a puddle on your tummy. Awww, good boy!”

I pumped two short ropes onto my stomach, followed by a sizeable dollop, then a prolonged ooze. Mary didn’t stop until my spasms were completely dry.

“I just love to make you squirt for me!”

She slid her finger through the puddle of my cum, collecting it into the depression of my belly button. Then she idly played with it, laying one side of her finger down into it, then the other side, holding the finger up and watching the thick coating drip off to rejoin the pool.

“You know, we don’t ever have to play the game. Just thinking about it is fun. And talking about it — that’s even more fun! We’ll only play if you want to, I promise.”

Her finger was once again covered, but now it stayed sideways and moved up to hover over my face.

“Open up, baby. Here comes the best part!”

I willingly opened my mouth as she pointed her finger downward, and my slime ran into my mouth. Her finger pushed in, and my lips dutifully scraped it clean, knowing she would do it repeatedly until the pool was transferred into my mouth. I didn’t mind the taste; it was very mild. I did it for her because she liked to see me do it. And I did it because I loved the intimacy, the surrender, and her.

I rolled over, and we spooned. I couldn’t help thinking about what it would feel like to stand in front of one of the girls in private, looking into their eyes and saying: ‘I have a small penis.’

What if it was Gina? I’d never told Mary, but I suspected she knew I’d always lusted after Gina. At 29, she was just a year older than Mary. Her Italian heritage gave her a beautiful olive complexion, but my lust centered on her heavy mane of dark hair and her wide, natural eyebrows. I often fantasized about her naked, certain that her bush – provided she didn’t shave it (please God, no) – would be wonderfully full. Could I say those words to her? Would I simply melt into a puddle at her feet if I did?

And what if it was Cindy? The youngest of the group at 26, she was thin — too thin for my taste, truthfully. She had no tits to speak of, but that didn’t bother me. Even the tiniest titties can have wonderful little nipples that are fun to play with. I think of them much in the way Mary regards my little penis. It was Cindy’s ass that left something to be desired. Too small to do much for me. Yet I still found her attractive, mostly because of her playful nature. She had such a fun-loving attitude. I could just imagine how effectively she would be able to tease me if she knew. If she were the one.

And then there was Nancy. The oldest of the “girls” at 34, she was a curvy redhead, with even “a little extra,” as they say. She had big, heavy tits that always mesmerized me. And such a sweet, shy disposition. I hardly knew her at all, and the thought of her and I relating to each other in any kind of sexual context was hard even to imagine. Imagine her knowing my secret. Her, with those big tits, so undeniably sexual, and me with my little penis… so… so not.

I didn’t know any of the girls well enough to know how they would react if I guessed wrong. Hell, not even Mary knew that. But I knew how I would react if I were right. I’d be thrilled for them to know, no matter which one it was. That’s when I knew I would play Mary’s game. And that I needed to be right. The first time.

True to her word, Mary didn’t tell her friends anything. But she kept bringing it up whenever we had sex, and it never failed to add fuel to my little rocket. Just the thought that one of her friends could know my secret, and I would be with them, everyone fully clothed, but me feeling naked in their presence. I always got incredibly turned on by the idea of being naked in front of an attractive woman. Particularly one who knew me and who might even consider me as a possible sexual partner. And then they find out — they know my secret. The potential humiliation was so alluring that I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so much so that barely a week passed before I was pulled toward it.

“I can’t believe how exciting it is when you talk to me about the game, how it makes my dick so hard. You were right about how the intensity had fallen off. Now, just the thought of one of your friends knowing gets me so horny. Ever since I confessed my small penis humiliation fetish to you, you’ve been right every step of the way. Always knowing how to wind me up. That’s why I want you to decide whether we play the game. I can’t decide. I’m torn between my desire to experience even more intense humiliation and my fear that I’d be killing the goose that laid the golden egg. Will the fantasy be ruined if we try to make it real?”

Mary smiled, but I could tell she was thinking seriously. I had done it myself, weighing the pros and cons and wondering how others would react. But at least she knew which woman would harbor my secret, so she could more accurately imagine the upside. Even though the downside was harder to predict, she knew her friends better than I did. Bottom line, I trusted my wife to know what was best for me and not let me be hurt.

“Hmmm. I know how I’d feel about it, no matter which way you decided, but I hadn’t even considered which one I would choose. Should I choose what I want to do or think would be best for you?”

I was sure it was a rhetorical question; she was just thinking out loud. Once it occurred to me that she didn’t know and was idly pondering it, I realized I was caught up in another level of anxiety.

“When do you think you might know? Will you at least tell me once you decide?”

“Ha! I already love the intrigue! Please let me know what: I’ll tell you not to play. But if I decide to start the game for real, I will only tell you once she knows.”

I stewed with that overnight. By the next day I couldn’t get it out of my head and pleaded with her for some certainty. I pestered her until she at least gave me a timeline. The girls would get together Friday evening at our place, and she said she’d decide by then. It was Wednesday. Two days seemed like a short time. Turns out it was.

Making matters worse, I had to work late on Friday and grab dinner before I got home. The girls were on the back patio when I arrived, and the drinks flowed. I heard a lot of laughter when Mary opened the sliding glass doors to greet me. She gave me a sexy smile, hugging and kissing me enthusiastically. Her hand dropped down and grabbed my crotch as she pulled me in to whisper in my ear,

“She knows.”

My eyes widened, and I looked out to the patio. The sounds of voices and laughter from the three women filtered through the glass. One of them, Gina, caught my eye. She was smiling as she held my gaze, and I couldn’t help thinking: is it her? Did she just tell her? Would it be that easy?

“Why don’t you go out there and say hi, honey? They won’t bite.”

I didn’t know what to say beyond “hi,” but I did it because Mary told me to. And because merely thinking about greeting a woman who knew I had a little dick made it start to chub up. Mary followed me out, and I ad-libbed beyond her suggested ‘hi'”

“Hi, girls. How’s everyone doing this evening?”

“Yeah, Richard’s here!” cheered Cindy.

“You poor man, having to work late on a Friday,” added Nancy. “Gina’s making Negronis, Cindy and I are drinking Chablis, and I believe Mary’s into a red of some sort. What’s your poison, Richard?”

“After the day I’ve had, nothing short of bourbon rocks will do it for me.”

“Ooww, a man’s drink there. That’s just what this party needed – a man!” Nancy jumped up to put it together for me and I immediately felt better, having my wife’s magnificently endowed friend serving me a drink in my own home.

“Hey there – steady, girl.” Mary jumped in. “That’s my man,” she admonished, holding her arm at a stiff downward angle, palm back as if to push me behind her. It was a theatric gesture, and it happened to bring her hand against my diminutive package. Once she felt it, she pushed firmly into my crotch. Remarkably, it seemed no one noticed. Either that, or they were all in on something. I had a creeping feeling that I was at a disadvantage.

“C’mon, you don’t honestly think sweet little ‘ol Nancy is going to come on to your husband, do you?” Cindy kidded. “I mean, Gina, maybe, but Nancy? Maybe even me if this Chablis keeps going down so easy!”

“Alright, alright; that’s enough going down talk for tonight; let’s try to keep this thing on the rails, girls.” It struck me that Mary sounded genuinely concerned about the party’s energy. Perhaps the holder of my secret was getting a bit too drunk, frisky, or both.

Gina had been quiet until now, but now she steered the conversation in an edgy direction.

“Before Richard got here, we were talking about learning to masturbate. Finally, we have a representative from the other side. We need a man’s perspective!”

“I’ll drink to that!” seconded Cindy. “Let me bring you up to speed, Richard. See, Mary put forward a theory that -”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Mary interrupted. You can’t tell him the theory; it will influence his answer!”

“But we all heard it before we answered,” countered Cindy.

“But the theory relates to gender differences, so it didn’t have the same bearing on our answers. Let’s just tell him our answers, then get his. Then we can tell him the theory.”

“Okay, fair enough.” Cindy relented. “So, I discovered my magic bean on my own through idle exploration. A friend and Gina told Nancy and Mary – I don’t remember the details, but you were told too, right?”

“Actually,” said Mary, “Gina didn’t give us details; she just said it wasn’t self-discovery. How did you phrase it, Gina? Outside information? It seemed very vague.”

“Alright. I read about it. Masters and Johnson, okay?”

“Wow,” said Nancy, “were you some kind of child prodigy or something? A young teenager reading research studies?”

“I never said when I read it. I was a late bloomer.” Gina’s face flushed, and looked away, desperately seeking to move on. “Let’s just get the rest of the data. Come on, Richard, tell us how it happened for you.”

I had been sipping my drink, but now I took a healthy gulp for liquid courage and to buy time. I had never talked about this subject with anyone, not even Mary.

“A friend told me. He had done it and told me about it in general terms.”

Cindy was all over it: “Details! We want details! Could you explain to me what you mean by ‘general terms’? What did he tell you?”

“I don’t remember exactly. He told me a lot of stuff. We had multiple conversations about, well, a lot of sex stuff. He had done a lot.”

“So, he was older, huh?” Nancy asked.

“No, he was the same age as me. He was just more experienced. He told me enough to make me curious, so I tried things he talked about, and it didn’t take long to figure out what felt good.”

“Sounds like maybe I wasn’t the only late bloomer,” Gina observed, acknowledging our camaraderie with a teasing smile.

“Whatever. So, you have my data point. Honey, how about you tell me your theory?”

“It’s hardly a theory, more like just an observation. Women’s erogenous zones are just more hidden, shielded from view, but more importantly, from accidental stimulation. Except for the classics: horseback riding and bicycle seats. Guys are more out there, so just incidental contact with clothing, and having that thing swinging around, brushing against things…”

“Getting a little worked up over there, eh Mary!” joked Cindy.

Nancy wanted to know more.

“So, Richard, is there something off with Mary’s thinking? Why didn’t you stumble on it all by yourself as a guy? How come someone had to tell you about it first?”

I knew the answer, at least part of it. It was because I didn’t have anything swinging around down there. And I still don’t. I could feel my face flushing as I met the gazes of the attractive women who were rhetorically poking around in my pants. Situations like these don’t come up in conversation often, and my instinct was to deflect, to hide my embarrassment. This time, I found myself flirting with the idea of sharing more.

“Let’s just say not all guys are the same, and what happens to some of us doesn’t necessarily happen for everyone.”

I crossed my legs to mask the furtive adjustment of my tighty whities, finding a new direction for my minor expansion. I quickly scanned the three pairs of eyes I sought to deceive and thought I had gotten away with it until I checked Mary. Her grin let me know she had clocked me.

“It sounds like there’s more of a story there,” said Nancy. She looked at me kindly, seeming to understand my reluctance yet unable to deny her curiosity.

“Maybe someday I can explain it, just not right now, ok?”

Nancy let me off the hook. “Okay, but I’m not going to forget. I hope I’m around when that someday comes.”

Sensing a possible end to the subject, I made a quick exit to use the bathroom. I had barely established a stream when having followed me all the way, Mary walked right in.

“I’m surprised you can get the little guy pointed down enough. You seemed to be getting pretty excited out there.”

She approached me and took advantage of my limited defenses, wrapping both arms around me and grabbing what little was not in my grasp. She was right; I had barely lost enough stiffness to flex downward. Now she threatened to reverse that trend, to potentially disastrous effect. She was right in my ear with that damned sultry voice:

“It would be pretty easy to go back out there and tell your whole story. You could get it out there to everyone at the same time. Who knows, it might lead to a really fun evening.”

I bent over slightly to maintain the required angle as my rekindled boner lost flexibility.

“I couldn’t tell them all. I can’t even imagine telling one of them.”

“Oh, I’ll bet you could if you knew which one you already knew. You could tell her, couldn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t know. I can’t imagine it because of the risk of being wrong.”

Mercifully, my stream finally weakened. Having made it past the danger of pissing all over the toilet tank and wall, I straightened up and dribbled to a finish. Mary milked out the last drops for me with the practiced hand that had so often coaxed out the last drops of my semen. She released me long enough to allow me to step to the sink and wash my hands. With my hands once again occupied, she wrapped me in the same compromising hug and stroked my still chubby dick through my pants.

“So, if I tell you who it is right now, would you go up to her, pull her aside, and tell her? I mean, just far enough away so we couldn’t hear you, but we could still see. Most importantly, I could see what you’re admitting to her. Could you say those five magic words to her face right now?”

As soon as she got me to think of who it might be, she had me fully erect. By the time she mentioned the five words, I squirmed with the fear of losing it in my pants. Still, she was offering me the chance to avoid the risk of guessing wrong. I had to consider it. Gina, with those gently curving, bold eyebrows accentuating her dark eyes. Cindy’s laughing eyes, feisty young body, and playful nature. Nancy’s kindhearted, maternal energy that I had recently found so endearing. If I thought they all knew, I’d admit it to every one of them right now.

“Okay… yes. I could say the words. Tell me who it is, and I’ll do it. I’ll go out there right now and tell her, and you can all watch.”

“Are you sure, baby? Maybe you should practice it in the mirror first. I want to see what it would be like. Do it for me. Pretend you’re looking her in the eyes and say it for me.”

I did it just like she asked. I didn’t just say the words; I visualized each woman, one at a time, looking at me as I faced them in that intimate moment. I pictured their eyes, but it was the reflection of Mary’s eyes that looked into mine as I said:

“I have a small penis.”

I shivered—I couldn’t help it. Then I took a deep breath, almost like I had achieved something. Mary laughed—not at me, simply over me, amused at my anxiety and arousal.

“Thank you for that. That’s just the way I imagined it! God, I wish I could be there when it happens!”

“What do you mean? I just agreed you’d be there.”

“But I didn’t agree. Do you remember the ‘if’ part? I said if I tell you who it is. I’m not going to do that. It would spoil the fun. But I’m genuinely grateful for what you gave me — it was delicious. And you got some valuable practice. Maybe you learned a lesson: you need to pay closer attention to me. Particularly when I have your little guy in my grasp, it seems to distract you more than is good for you.”

She rejoined the girls, leaving me to dry my hands and contemplate the new level of manipulation I had just experienced.

When I rejoined the girls on the patio, Gina spotted me first.

“Alright, Richard’s back. Now we can get back to serious talk. Where were we?”

Cindy, seemingly the natural leader, grabbed the reins.

“Now that we’ve all confessed to being human and masturbating, can we all just take the next step and admit we all surf porn on occasion? I mean, at least enough to know our likes and dislikes?”

“Sure,” “Yeah,” “OK,” and “No doubt,” came the girls’ replies on top of one another.

“So, let’s share a little. What should we start with, Likes or dislikes?”

“Likes,” “Yeah, likes.”

“Two and oh, the likes have it. Okay, the question to each of us is: what do you like most about online porn? And I don’t mean, what kind of porn do you like most? Rather, what is it about porn that you most appreciate?”

As soon as Cindy mentioned porn, Mary casually stood up and drifted over to stand behind my chair, her hands on my shoulders.

“How about clockwise around the table? I’ll start, OK? I think I would come up with many answers given the time, but I’ll just share the first one that came to mind. I like that there’s so much of it — so much variety. It makes it almost inevitable that you can find whatever floats your boat. The sheer volume of it, that’s what I like about porn.”

“Wow!” Gina reacted. “Spoken like an unabashed fan and with a variety of interests. I love it! But, you know, as revealing as that answer was, now I kind of wish the question had been, what kind of porn do you like most. Can we have a round two on likes?”

“One thing at a time, Gina, and you’re next. Give us your best like.”

“Hmmm… what I most appreciate… is the well-done amateur videos. Most amateur stuff could be better than cringe-worthy, but the ones that capture genuine emotion are awesome! It’s rare with amateurs, but it never happens with actors. There’s always a part of an actor that simply can’t forget where the camera is, let alone that it’s even there.”

Nancy was apparently into the racy talk and pushed for more details.

“Interesting! At least we have a high-level category. I wonder what type of amateur videos those are…”

“Hey, nobody mentioned anything about follow-up questions.” My attempt to keep things light met immediate resistance.

“No one has to answer any questions they don’t want to. But let’s at least ask them. You never know who might want to play.”

Nancy looked right at me when she said it, which may have been why I noticed the suggestive interpretation. I was surprised to hear it from Nancy, who was always quiet and reserved. There was another side, and it made me think differently about her.

Mary stood behind me, and now her hands slid down my chest as she bent forward, her head landing on my shoulder. She whispered,

“Careful, Dicky. That’s a lot of woman for a little guy like you.”

I couldn’t think of Nancy without being aware of her daunting assets. My wife putting it in my face, contrasting it with my inadequacy, gave me an itch.

Now that the boundaries of our game had been clarified, Gina blurted out that she did want to play.

“If you must know, I like straight, penis-in-vagina fucking. In videos! Amateur videos, I mean!”

Everyone busted up laughing. It was funny, but I also recognized it probably wouldn’t have been so funny if we weren’t all so well-lubricated.

Cindy broke out her best game show host voice: “Aaannd now, it’s time for our next contestant, Nancy!”

“I’ve had time to think about it, and I’m going with captioned pictures. I like the combination of visual and psychological. A video is visual and audio; both add a layer to the picture. And I think captions can be quite creative and powerful when the text captures the emotion in the scene.”

“A well-thought-out answer, I must say! And no follow-on questions? How about that — everyone’s stunned by your eloquence.”

“Riiichaaarrrd! You’re up, Richard!”

Of course, I knew the truth just as well as I knew I couldn’t confess it: I like small penis humiliation. Well, that’s not completely honest; I love SPH. I knew I wasn’t a good liar, so I needed to keep it truthful and camouflage it.

“What I like most about porn is good dialogue. Usually, it’s in erotic stories, but sometimes in videos or even lengthy captions. It’s the emotional communication between two people that appeals to me.”

I thought that was pretty good. It’s not too revealing, but certainly true.

“Wow, honey, I don’t think I ever knew that about your taste in porn. I mean, I know what kind of porn you like; and no, Cindy, I’m not going to tell you! Secrets about someone else should only be revealed by them. Well, with rare exception. Anyway, I digress… Richard, I never knew you liked dialogue porn. So, what is it? Is it the power of the words themselves that does it for you?”

I left it to my wife to dig for more, knowing the answer and how the risk of exposure would turn up the heat for me.

“Yes, along with the way the words are spoken. I, I guess that’s it.”

Wait a minute, I thought… were there other categories of dialogue porn that fit what I had revealed, or did I just out myself as an SPH freak? I guess I was overthinking it because Cindy elected just to move on.

“Okay, Mary’s up!”

And that’s when my sexy wife hit it out of the park.

“Yeah… I’m surprised that no one hasn’t just fessed up to their category. But I will. It’s pussy licking. That’s what I like most about porn: I like a good pussy licking!”

A few seconds of shock were followed by one, then two, then a chorus of assenting shouts and cheers. Mary knew the crowd, and now the crowd knew Mary a little better. As each of them looked at me, they had to think: if she’s that into it, you know Richard must spend a lot of time down there.

I knew that didn’t lead anyone to guess my secret, but Mary’s predilection would fit right in with her new image of me for one of the girls. All three girls would assume I was Mary’s dedicated pussy licker because now they knew what she liked. But one of them also knew it was because I couldn’t satisfy her with my little dick. Which one? I searched their eyes for clues, but the general merriment over Mary’s revelation overwhelmed whatever subtle look I hoped to pick up on.

“Geez, Mary, leave it to you to blow up the game! We’ll all have to try harder in the next round.”

Gina’s opinion was generally agreed upon. Then Mary excused herself to the bathroom, and things took a turn.

Cindy got up, walked to where I sat, straddled my legs, and sat in my lap. The move was so bold it took me completely by surprise. She was wearing slacks, so she revealed nothing to me unless you count the fact that her legs were spread wide, her crotch facing me, within inches of mine. Meanwhile, Gina and Nancy scooted their chairs closer, flanking me on either side.

Cindy said, “The cat’s away; wanna play?”

Gina laughed, admonishing her, “C’mon, that’s hardly fair. This is his first time, after all. He deserves an explanation.”

“OK,” she relented, “it’s like this: we like to play with each other’s husbands a bit. Not like that — no touching of naughty bits, just incidental contact.” she glanced down at my thighs, trapped by her own. “Why don’t you two tell him how your men play when you’re not around?”

Gina leaned in and whispered in my right ear:

“Nancy’s husband likes to dance. We dance with him a lot. Sometimes, he dances for us while we watch.”

As soon as she straightened, Nancy leaned in on my left and whispered:

“Gina’s husband likes to be tickled. Well, he kinda likes it. We do. We usually make him beg us to stop. Last time, he even peed a little.”

Then Gina added, “Some of Cindy’s boyfriends have been particularly entertaining. They might have gotten the wrong idea about how far things would go. Anyway, we want to know what your secret is, Dicky. How might you like to play with us when wifey isn’t around?”

I couldn’t believe Gina called me Dicky! No one’s ever called me that besides Mary; she only does it when teasing me. If Gina’s the one who knows my secret, it would make sense that Mary might have given her some tips, like “he loves it when I call him Dicky.”

“C’mon Dicky, play with us. What do you want to play?”

Now Nancy was calling me that, too, and it was starting to affect me. I felt compelled to give them something that might slow them down.

“Okay, how about, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

“Wow, that’s a naughty game!” said Cindy. “Are you sure you’re up for that, big guy?”

“Uh… maybe not everything? Like, how about tits for ass?”

“Three sets of naked titties for your sorry little ass? Doesn’t sound fair to me. One for one, you pick.” So, Cindy was the lead negotiator, too — no surprise.

“Hey, Mary will return soon, don’t you think?” I said, grasping at a straw.

Nancy countered, “She’s going to give us at least the minimum, and I’ve got an eye on the clock.”

“So, who’s it going to be, Dicky? Whose tits do you want to see? Chop-chop!”

Fuck! That seemed easy, but how much would I get to see? That made a big difference.

“Will it be an open blouse, top lifted or off?”

“Jesus! Your choice.”

“Gina, top off.”

I’m sure all three of them were floored. Gina’s breasts were nice sized, but Nancy had such firm, heavy hangers, with nipples pointed out and still up. It should have been no contest. But I knew with her top off, Gina’s armpits would be in view, enough to see escaping hairs, provided she kept it natural. I knew she came from a traditional Italian family. I was hoping she inherited a traditional aesthetic.

Gina wasted no time and unbuttoned her silky blouse. She was business-like, showing little emotion. I struggled not to smile, fearing breaking out into some kind of schoolboy giggle. As soon as she shrugged her top off, I caught the flash of black under her arms. It was covered when her arms were at her side, perhaps she trimmed a bit. Reaching back to undo her bra, her armpits became fully exposed, if only from the side. The thatch from her pits was wonderfully dense, jet-black, and straight. It called to me like a pussy. I wanted to bury my nose there as long as she’d have me. If she had stopped right then, I would have been happy, but she didn’t.

She popped off her bra and revealed breasts so round they looked like softballs on her chest. On anyone else, I would have assumed they were fake. She had pronounced tan lines, accentuating her tits, as if to say: here is the part no one else gets to see. Her areolas were as dark as I had expected, her nipples protruding like thin pencil erasers.

“Ahem,” Cindy said, bringing me back to the present. She twirled with her finger, followed by a downward jab.

I got the message that time was running out, so I took a deep breath and turned to face away from them before dropping trou. Grasping my pants, I lowered them and held on, remaining bent over to hide the source of my shame further. The pose had the unfortunate effect of exposing my hole to them. I suddenly burned with deep humiliation.

I tried to hold my pose as long as Gina did hers, but it was hard to keep track of time amid all the lewd comments. I only had my pants hiked back up, and everything squared away for a handful of seconds when Mary rejoined us. The timing made me wonder if she might have returned earlier, perhaps watching from a window.

Mary and Cindy exchanged some words with each other, but they seemed intent on not being overheard. Rather than eavesdropping, I took the high road and focused on Gina. It’s so different to look at someone without clothes once you’ve seen them. Granted, only topless, but I’d seen her hidden bushes. I had a little question about what remained. She saw me looking. I usually look away when that happens, but this time I didn’t. I looked deeper. I suddenly felt like I was cheating on Mary. Not because of earlier, when I had looked at her breasts and her pits, but now, when I looked into her eyes. This was the intimacy that carried the risk.

When I next came to earth, Cindy was describing a new wrinkle.

“For the next round, I think ‘What do you like least about porn’ would give us too many answers, plus it would be too much of a downer. After all, we’re here to have fun! Where can we take this and keep it fun?”

“How about this?” Mary said while monitoring my reaction. “We each get to ask one follow-up question to anyone, and if they answer truthfully, they get to ask the next question. If they lie or chicken out, they forfeit their opportunity to the inquisitor, who gets to ask another question.”

“How do we know if the answer is truthful?” I wanted to know, realizing there was a good chance I’d be lying.

“I don’t suppose we’d know, but… anybody who doesn’t believe the answer can call for a vote. Majority rules, ties are given a chance to change their answer or forfeit.”

Nancy wanted to know: “A follow-up question on what? Just the porn answer? What about the masturbation answer?”

Shouts of “Either!” and “Both!” rang out in response. The energy was building.

“Great,” Mary said, “it’s all set. And since I thought up the game, I get to ask first. Gina, you like amateur porn videos… have you ever made one?”

“Oooooh!” the girls all reacted. Gina’s complexion could not hide her blush, and her answer didn’t take long:

“I forfeit” was all she said.

“Awww, that’s no fun. But fair and almost as good as a yes, right?”

Mary smiled at Gina, who wasn’t making eye contact with anyone.

“Gina just doesn’t get to ask, and I go again. I wonder if I should win something if no one is willing to answer my questions. Let’s see… Nancy, you like captioned pictures. Will you share with us the most common subject matter of those pictures?”

“They’re mostly lactation… and adult nursing.”

Everyone smiled. No one teased or joked. I felt an odd kinship with her husband because now we all knew where he spent much of his time.

Nancy turned to me. “I have a follow-up for Richard: You said Mary’s theory didn’t explain your experience because ‘not all guys are the same.’ Explain, please.”

“Gina was right — I was a late bloomer.”

“C’mon, that’s not much detail. Can’t you give us more?” prodded Nancy.

“Go easy now, Nancy,” my darling wife seemed to jump to my defense. Maybe a little bit is all the poor guy has to offer.”

I looked at Mary, wanting to be upset with her. Her smirk said, “This is what you like, right?” Everyone was looking my way to see if I’d add anything. I decided to take advantage of the moment to savor the taste of humiliation she was giving me. I met each of their gazes with a pleading look. Cindy was having none of it, but Gina was sympathetic. I found kindness in Nancy’s eyes, but something else was behind it. It looked like hunger.

“Let’s just say not all guys are the same, and what happens to some of us doesn’t necessarily happen for everyone.”

“It sounds like there’s more of a story there,” said Nancy. She looked at me kindly, seeming to understand my reluctance yet unable to deny her curiosity.

“Maybe someday I can explain it, just not right now, ok?”

Nancy let me off the hook. “Okay, but I’m not going to forget. I hope I’m around when that someday comes.”

Sensing a possible end to the subject, I made a quick exit to use the bathroom. I had barely established a stream when, having followed me, Mary walked right in.