Ten years. We were fifteen when we met and became friends. That was twenty years ago. We were seventeen when we began dating and twenty five when we got married. And now, at thirty five, we’re celebrating our aluminum anniversary, though the piece of jewelry I bought her for the occasion is a far cry from aluminum.

We’re still just as good of friends today as we were in high school. Almost too good. We’re more friends than we are husband and wife. It’s most evident on the romance side of things, particularly when it comes to the bedroom. We just never connected that well physically.

Caryn is as pretty as she was the day we were married. Actually, she is beautiful. That is an objective observation that cannot be argued. She has straight jet black hair, green eyes and a fit figure. As for me, I am constantly being told that I haven’t changed a bit either. I know I’m a good looking guy. Actually, the word most often used to describe me is “cute”. I was cute in high school and I am apparently still cute today. But we just never seem to be on the same page with sex.

It doesn’t help that I travel every other week for work. That has been the case for our whole marriage, but my job has gotten us our big beautiful house, our luxury cars and it provided Caryn with the capital she needed to start her own business, which is now thriving.

To prove the point that we act more like friends than lovers, we chose to celebrate our big night out at our favorite Bar-b-que spot rather than at a romantic restaurant. And that’s when Caryn surprises me. As we’re finishing our desserts, she says, “Oh, by the way, we’re not going home tonight.”

I raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“We’re going to the Hotel Indigo. I reserved a room for us.”

She has never said anything, but she must be disappointed with our almost nonexistent sex life. How could she not be? On the rare occasions that we give things a try, it never ends well. More often than not, I simply fizzle out before either of us gets anywhere. I end up apologizing a million times and she reassures me repeatedly that it’s okay. How long has it been since our last attempt? A month? Two? Longer? Probably. Maybe she thinks a change of scenery will change the result. It won’t. The setting isn’t my problem.

I tell her, “I’m not exactly dressed up for a nice hotel.” Neither of us are. Since we chose the BBQ joint, we’re both in jeans and sneakers.

She giggles, “No problem. You don’t need fancy clothes when your plans do not involve leaving the room.”

Oh. I guess the plan is to work on our intimacy issues. This is about sex. Suddenly my heart rate increases and my palms get sweaty. “But I also didn’t pack a bag. At the very least I need–”

She cuts me off, “James, I’ve got your overnight bag packed and in the trunk of the car. I just wanted to surprise you. Everything you need and more is in that bag.”

I have no further protests. None that hold any water. I guess we’re going to the hotel.

~~

We’re all checked in and the elevator has delivered us to the sixth floor. I feel underdressed walking the halls of this nice hotel in my Nike high-tops. When I open the door to our room, I’m surprised to see that it’s a double – there are two queen sized beds. I suppose we’ll have our separate sleep space after. After what? After disappointment? After deflation? After failure? I’m sure to disappoint her again.

She says, “We’re going to try something new tonight.”

I say nothing.

“A little role playing.”

I do not reply.

“Do you trust me?”

I feel like I owe her an affirmative response, so I nod.

“Pick a bed and lie down. On your back.”

“Should I change?”

“No.”

“Undress?”

“No.”

“Take off my shoes at least?” I hope she says yes to that one. I chose special socks for the occasion.

“No.” She puts her hand on my forearm, “I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry. Leave it to me.”

I do what she says, but I’m still gonna worry. I choose a bed and lie down as Caryn picks up one of our duffle bags. She says, “Here’s where the trust comes into play.” She pulls a strip of nylon fabric out of the bag, wraps it around my right wrist and ties me to the bed post.

“Um…”

She shushes me, “Trust.”

She moves down to the foot of the bed. One at a time she pushes my jeans a few inches up my calves and wraps more straps of fabric around my ankles above my high-top sneakers. She anchors each foot to bottom corner bedposts. Finally, she secures my left wrist like she did my right and I am a bound and captive prisoner. She leans in like she’s about to kiss me but she veers away at the last second and kisses my cheek instead of my lips.

She whispers in my ear, “I know what you like.”

I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. I hope she doesn’t. I’ve been hiding my likes from her for twenty years now.

I shift nervously, as much as my restraints allow.

She trails a fingertip lightly down my inner arm from my wrist to my armpit. I squirm and giggle. “Tonight, all of your dreams and fantasies will come true. You are going to have the time of your life tonight.” She stands, “That little dick of yours will finally start working.”

Did she say “little dick”? She’s never commented on my size before. “What do you think I like?” I ask tentatively.

“Remember last week when you were out of town and you needed me to send you a document that was saved on your laptop?”

Oh no. “Yes…”

“Your private laptop that I’d never used before. You had to give me the passcode, remember?”

My eyes bulge and I nod.

“Well, I was curious. After we hung up, I took advantage of having your code and I poked around.”

Shit. What exactly does “poked around” mean?

“I figured it was my only shot because you would surely change the password as soon as you got home.”

That’s exactly what I did. Apparently too late.

“You have some interesting sites bookmarked and your recent browser history was even more interesting. Oh, my dear husband. I confirmed some suspicions and learned some crazy interesting things about you.”

I swallow. Everyone has their things, right? Their turn-ons. Fetishes. You can’t judge a person for them. Can you? Caryn doesn’t exactly think I have erectile dysfunction, she has seen me wake up with morning wood. I just struggle to make wood for her. It functions just fine in the right circumstances. It works great when I’m home alone and reading erotic stories online or watching my favorite porn videos. In particular I like videos that involve humiliation. Male to male sexual humiliation, mostly SPH. I also enjoy a variety of gay male stories and videos involving hand jobs, blowjobs and cum shots. And some M/M tickling, especially when the ticklish dude is helplessly bound and captive. Kind of like I am right now. What exactly does she have in mind here. Is it too late for me to change my mind about trusting her?

“It honestly explains a lot about our nonexistent sexual chemistry,” she says.

Yep. She discovered my fetishes. But even though I like SPH videos, F/M SPH does nothing for me. It’s got to be M/M SPH. That’s what I like. A bigger stronger man ridiculing a weak pathetic loser. That gets me going. Compare, humiliate and degrade. If Caryn watched those videos, then she knows. She said as much. She said that tonight I’m gonna get what I like. What am I about to face?

There’s a knock at our door. How can she answer it? Whoever it is will see me all tied up.

She answers. Two very large, very muscled, very tall and very masculine men enter our room. They both look down at helpless tied up me and they laugh. Caryn excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving me alone with the two beefy hunks. I’m already stiffening up. Just proximity to these big hulks has me aroused. Add in their judgy glances and chuckles plus the fact that I’m helplessly bound… Yeah, I’m responding.

Hunk #1 asks me, “How old are you?”

I don’t answer. I have no power in this situation, but I give nothing away.

He steps over and sits next to me on the bed. His bicep must be not much smaller than my waist. He puts both hands on my ribs and wiggles his fingers. I burst out into laughter. He asks me again how old I am, but now I’m laughing too hard to answer. He stops the torture and I gasp for air.

I say, “Thirty five.”

He turns to his friend, “No way! He looks like he’s eighteen.” He turns back to me, “You look like a twink!”

I say nothing. I do look young for my age. Very young. I get carded all the time. I weigh the same 145 pounds that I weighed the day I graduated from high school. And none of that weight has shifted positions as years have passed by. I have the same twenty eight inch waist I’ve had since forever.

He decides to drill my ribs and armpits again and I scream and laugh. I don’t know how staged and acted porn videos are, but this is real. Very real. Too real.

When he stops, he tells his friend, “This is going to be a fun night.” He turns back to me, “You’d be surprised how many of the guys we service are gross. They’re either overweight slobs or just plain ugly. But you? Tonight will be our pleasure as much as it is yours.”

“Who are you guys? Why are you here?”

“You know why we’re here. Your wife hired us. We are here to do a job. And we have all night to do it.”

Hunk #1 swipes his finger across the strip of my exposed lower abdomen between my shirt and my jeans. He drags it repeatedly across from hipbone to hipbone and I quiver and shriek out. Caryn said that all of my fantasies would come true tonight. I guess we’re starting with dominating men tickling the shit out of me while I’m tied down. I haven’t been tickled since I took off for college leaving my brothers behind. My brothers were evil, one older and one younger. Whether they ganged up on me together or attacked me just one on one, I always lost. Especially humiliating was losing to my younger brother. Every time.

Hunk #1 grapples at my stomach and squeezes my sides while Hunk #2 squeezes me above the knees and up my inner thighs. I flop and thrash wildly to no avail. My shrieks turn to screams. #1 goes back to my ribs and I really might pass out.

They stop when Caryn finally emerges from the bathroom. She is in a skimpy sexy teddy and nothing else. She says to me, “Don’t worry about making too much noise. I rented out the whole floor. It’s just us. Scream away as you please.”

The guys back off, she sits on my bed and things calm down. She says, “What if I told you I want you to make love to me all night with these guys watching?”

I say nothing.

She unzips my jeans and reaches her hand in my fly. It takes a moment, but she finally finds me, small and flaccid. She strokes me up and down and nothing changes. She says, “James, you really are just as cute as you were seventeen years ago. I may have married you for your money, but it could have worked out. We could have made this forever.” She squeezes my limp noodle. It occurs to me that she has only taken my penis in her hand just a few times in ten years of marriage. Maybe it’s because I’m not much of a handful.

Then she says, “What if I were to tell you that these guys heard that you have the smallest dick in the state and they had to come see it for themselves?”

I feel a bump.

“And after they see it, they’re gonna discuss it in great detail, once they stop laughing.”

I harden some more, still in her hand.

“Then they’ll check it out…take it for a test drive.”

I’m pretty much fully erect now.

Caryn takes her hand away and looks down at me. She scoffs, “That is the first erection I’ve given you in twenty years and it only happened because I was talking about dudes.” She shakes her head. “Well, the heart wants what the heart wants. And so does the dick. You three have a long night ahead of you. Let’s get my part out of the way and then I’ll leave you to it.”

She crosses over to the other bed and I ask, “You’re leaving?”

“You don’t need me here after the first part. You won’t want me here.”

Hunk #1 unbuttons my Tommy Bahama shirt and spreads it open, revealing my skinny scrawny torso. He laughs out loud, “See? I told you! A smooth twink. Like he’s still eighteen.” He takes all of me in with laser focused eyes, “Almost completely hairless.” He pokes a finger in my navel and wiggles it around, “Nice belly button.”

I don’t want to but I giggle. My skinny body is devoid of muscles. Are muscles ticklish? Are they protection from being tickled? Never having had any, I wouldn’t know.

Hunk #2 pulls off his shirt and he has muscles for days. He probably weighs 280 but his belly button is not an innie like mine because there’s not an ounce of fat on him. He steps out of his combat boots, strips off his pants and socks and suddenly he’s stark naked. Just as suddenly, I’m not noticing his not-so-innie belly button anymore because the elephant in the room now is his massive cock. It’s the size of my arm and I don’t even think it’s hard yet, though it’s so big that it’s difficult to tell.

Hunk #1 begins to unbutton my pants. I try to twist away, but I can’t. He says, “We’ve heard the rumors, but let’s see what we’re working with here.”

There’s no way I can fight it so I save my strength and let it happen. My jeans and underwear get pulled down to my knees. My still mostly hard cock slaps my belly before pointing almost straight to the ceiling.

Hunk #1 laughs again. He turns to Caryn who is giggling too. “You weren’t kidding. Wow! If anything, your description was generous.”

I’ve been self-conscious about the size of my penis my whole life. When you grow up with two brothers and both of them have bigger dicks than you (yes, I saw theirs and they saw mine and they never let me live it down), you begin to wonder if something is wrong with you. I still carry those emotional scars with me today. It’s also why I hardly ever see my brothers. But it’s not like I have a micro penis or anything. Is four and a half inches that shameful? Well, that’s four and a half erect. Flaccid, it’s more like two and a half. That’s embarrassing in public restrooms.

Hunk #1 says, “Let’s see how big they each get.”

I already feel pretty big – for me – but when he gives it a quick touch, it stands taller and prouder.

Hunk #2 begins to stroke himself and soon his soft seven inches has transformed into a hard nine. He comes closer to me and I can almost feel heat radiating off it. He says, “Twinkie? Have you ever seen a real man up close before?”

My dick is near exploding now. Hunk #1 Gives my arm a squeeze where a person’s bicep is meant to be and he finds nothing. He shakes his head in amusement.

“Word on the street is that your little pecker there is a failure,” says Hunk #2. “Your wife is a beautiful woman and you leave her unsatisfied every night of your lives. I can be your hero. I’m gonna have to step in and do it for you. I’m here to show you what a real man can do. And you are going to watch.”

My dick stays rock hard. The humiliation of my exposed genitals along with the announcement of my inadequacy has me crazed and horny.

Hunk #1 pulls a cloth tape measure out of a bag. He measures #2 and lets out a low whistle, “Nine inches. Impressive.”

My estimate was right. He lines his cock up alongside of mine and the difference is comical. Caryn comes over to look too. All three of them almost fall to the floor laughing. It’s like we’re different species.

Hunk #2 puts a hand on my shoulder, “Hey twinkie, I’m ten years younger than you but my dick looks like your dick’s daddy. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

How can it be so small and feel so big?

Unhelpfully, Caryn says, “That’s the hardest and biggest I’ve seen that little thing in ten years.”

Suddenly the tape measure is being pressed and stretched all along my length from different sides and angles. The hands of two other men are on my cock and I am about to lose it. I am now leaking precum. There’s more laughter. “Four and a half.”

No surprise there. I’ve measured myself a million times – it never changes.

Caryn lies back on the other bed, “Take me big guy.”

She’s not talking to me. I pull against my ties, “What?”

“James, relax and enjoy the show.”

Hunk #2 climbs on Caryn’s bed. He roughly rips and shreds the crotch of her teddy and she gasps. He pushes the garment up her torso and his giant hands glide up her naked sides. Her breathing gets heavier. His head dives between her legs and his tongue darts deep into a place that my tongue has never visited. She screams in delight and grabs his head with her hands. He spends the next five minutes feasting on my wife, licking, nibbling and going down in every way imaginable. Caryn is in absolute ecstasy as she makes animal sounds. He kneels upright and positions himself for proper entry.

I shout, “Caryn!”

Everyone ignores me. And why shouldn’t they? She isn’t being attacked or violated, at least not in any way that she doesn’t want to be.

He spreads her legs as wide as they’ll spread and points his iron cock at her, like he’s lining up to dock a ship. As he makes contact, she gasps again. He pushes in deeper and she gasps harder. He keeps pushing and she bucks up and down, arching her back. Once I think she can’t possibly take anymore, he pushes his last two inches inside of her and she lets out an guttural sound that shakes the room. A sound I’ve never extracted from her.

All the while Hunk #1 is saying degrading things to me about how it takes a real man to properly fuck a woman. Then he moves on to pointing out all the objects in the room that are bigger than my dick. Spoiler alert – it’s all of them. Apparently no other object on planet earth is smaller than my penis. He asks me if I made God mad at me. Humiliation has always been a turn-on for me but watching another man fuck my wife while my tiny exposed dick gets publicly mocked is a level I never imagined in my wildest dreams.

Hunk #2 pulls halfway out and slams back in. Caryn cries out in delight. He repeats the move over and over. He says, “You are so tight. Let a real man stretch you out.”

She just nods and grunts and bites her lip. He continues to plow her relentlessly. If she can accommodate his whole nine inches, I never had a chance. I really am only half of a man. Compared to this guy, I’m not a man at all. He keeps right on ramming her, making her eyes roll back in her head.

It’s Caryn who begins her orgasm first. As she begins to shake and sweat and flush and gasp, Hunk #2 let’s his loose as well. It’s a symphony of sounds as they cum together in erotic euphoria. At this point I realize I may have never given Caryn an orgasm ever. At least not a proper one. Not one by a real man. Knowing that I can’t do that to her and this guy just did, while I was forced to watch… I feel completely emasculated. And I love it.

As they unentangle from each other, Caryn vanishes back into the bathroom. Hunk #2 remains naked and very large. And so do I. At least as large as I am physically capable of being. He gets a pair of scissors from his bag and cuts my shirt off and away from my body. Then the two of them go down by my feet and begin untying the laces of my high-tops.

I try, “Guys, I’m a little cold. I’d like to keep my shoes on.”

#1 says, “If you’re so cold, then why hasn’t your dick deflated? Could there be another reason you don’t want your shoes off?”

I attempt to kick my feet free, “We’re done with the tickling part of the night. You already got me.”

My pleas have fallen on deaf ears. They each pull off a shoe. My high-tops are powder blue with the classic white swoosh. They are more decorative than functional.

Hunk #2 examines it from all sides, “Cute. Do these come in men’s sizes too, twinkie?”

I wear a size nine and I guess that’s not manly enough for them. How manly will they think I am when the tickling starts and I scream like a girl? My dick bobs, pointing straight up at the ceiling. Hunk #1 says, “Did you notice that his small scrotum makes his dick look a little bigger?”

Hunk #2 nods, “And it’ll look even bigger still after we shave him.”

I have never been so stimulated from so little contact.

They each untie the nylon strip from my ankles and pull my jeans and underwear off of my body. All I’m wearing at this point is my socks and I feel like a naked toddler. Maybe today wasn’t the right day to wear pink socks with red hearts. They each hold up a foot to their faces and bury their noses in my arches. My dick bounces and throbs as I laugh from the tickle.

Hunk #1 says, “He even smells like a twink. He smells like a boy, not a man.”

They might make me cum with just words.

Hunk #2 says, “Cute socks.”

Each sock has a big red heart on the sole. Simultaneously, they each trace a heart with a finger. I try not to. I try so hard, but I can’t stop it. My feet are a trigger spot. I start to flail and laugh.

They grin at each other and one strips a sock off while the other slowly pulls it off with his teeth. I’ve watched so many videos just like this before. I have seen guys helplessly tied naked while other guys say and do things to humiliate and tickle them. And milk them. I’ve seen the videos, but I never imagined playing the leading role. And those are actors. Performers. I am a real person and I am at the brink.

And then they each attack the foot their holding. I can’t get free. I can’t even deflect. All I can do is thrash and scream and laugh and hope it comes to a merciful end soon. My two little bare feet are no match for their four big strong hands. Those hands swipe and glide up and down my arches. They scratch and scrabble under my toes. It goes on for a dangerously long time, reminding me of being tortured by my brothers as a kid. That is until they start licking the soles of my feet. My brothers never did that. It doesn’t end until Caryn returns, dressed back in her jeans and sneakers. My dick is still fully erect and tears from torturous laughter are streaming down my face.

She nods at the guys and they resecure my ankles with the nylon straps. She says, “Seeing your secrets on your laptop only clued me into your fetish. I’ll be honest. I’ve known you’re gay since we started dating in high school.”

“But I–”

She shushes me again. “When we went to senior prom, you spent the whole night staring at Brian Giles. And at the end of the night, we did not have sex. The beginning of a long and telling pattern.” She looks down at my raging hard and dripping cock. “I am not the one who made you get like that. I never have been. It’s not your fault. It’s just who you are. You are gay and I don’t have what you’re interested in. It’s fine. You didn’t choose to be gay any more than you chose to have a tiny dick.”

The guys laugh and my dick tries to stand taller. It wants to. It’s maxed out with no more room to grow but still it surges in effort..

I ask, “If you’ve always known then why did you date me? Hell, why did you marry me?”

“For your potential. You were the class valedictorian and you lived up to expectations. You made so much money that you were able to get my business up and going. And now it is. Look, you’ve always been a little cutie,” she looks at my iron nail again, “but at some point you had to realize this wouldn’t be forever. This is and always has been a friendship. There are certain things you just can’t deliver on. It’s not in you. And it’s not your fault. Surely it would have been hard to come out to your masculine manly brothers and father. Not that gay isn’t masculine, but,” she waves a hand, indicating my stiff but short rod, “not so much in your case. Your brothers would have tortured you even more than they did. They would have done a lot more than just tickle you and tease you for being small and weak.”

She couldn’t be more right. My brothers are nasty and filthy and they would not have been sensitive to my situation. I ask, “But you got what you need and it’s over now?”

She nods, “I have my business. Look, I don’t want anything else. I don’t want your money or your house. Keep them. Our divorce will be quick and boring. Like sex with you.”

The guys crack up.

“I’ve already filed papers. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer tomorrow.”

“Oh my god.”

“James, I have unfulfilled needs. Sexual needs. Let’s not pretend you can even attempt to satisfy them. I know that you know what the average penis size is but do you know what women prefer? It’s 6.4 inches. And a 4.9 inch girth. Now, James. Really. Knowing that, how could we go on? You come up way short of the man I need you to be. I need to be fucked hard by real men.”

I look at Hunk #2 who just finished doing just that. He scratched her itch. He filled her hole. With his giant dick and presumably a bucket of cum.

Caryn says, “And I have been. I’ve been engaging in real sex with real men for all ten years of our marriage. Your frequent business trips have made it easy.”

My mouth drops open.

“It’s true. Real men. In your house, paid for with your money. In your bed. Doing unspeakable things to me with manly body parts that you can’t measure up to.”

I never much cared for F/M SPH, but this is pretty good. My face burns red in embarrassment and I love it.

“Who were they?” I ask.

“Our friend right here for one,” she says and Hunk #2 smiles and waves. “But I pay him. The others all want me for free.”

“Anyone I know?” I ask, half hoping the answer is yes.

“Several. You know the new family across the street?”

“That guy is old and married.”

“His son isn’t.”

“That kid can’t be more than nineteen! He’s a college kid!”

“Half your age and twice your size.” She shrugs, “You asked.”

My dick pulses again. “Who else?”

“Josh.”

“My best friend?” He would do that to me? Betray me, humiliate me? Violate our friendship? Satisfy my wife? My dick pulses two more times and a blob of precum rolls down my shaft.

She drags her finger in a circle around my navel and down my treasure trail. “He’s not as cute as you, but he’s bigger. Significantly, but who isn’t? Oh, he fucked me hard. But don’t say anything to him. He’s terrified you’ll find out.”

“Anyone else?”

“Dozens and dozens, but as far as people you know?” she drums her fingertips on my chest, “Oh! Your brother!”

“What!”

She smiles and nods.

“Which brother?”

She shrugs again, “Both. Don’t judge me. I know they’re both kind of gross, but they’re good fucks. They’re also real men. They were so happy to fuck me. I never knew I was multi-orgasmic until they fucked me sideways in your bed. I don’t get it. All three of you are related. You have the same parents. How did they get to be so masculine and you ended up just cute? How did the small penis gene skip over each of them but land squarely on you?”

My dick is so hard it’s purple. It really might burst. My ears are red.

“They’re both hung pretty good. And they’re really good in bed. You’ve seen their dicks, right?

I have. They’re almost scary compared to me.

“Your younger brother in particular took great pride in plowing me. He made me cum so hard I almost pulled a muscle. He made me scream so loud I thought the neighbors would call the police.”

I hate to admit it but this humiliation is delicious. And the fact that these two strong muscled guys are witness to it is all the better. I am helplessly spreadeagle and bound to the bed while my supposed wife degrades my manhood and my embarrassingly inadequate cock throbs in obvious arousal. I only wish the audience was bigger.

Caryn kisses my cheek, stands and for the last time in our lives, looks at my penis. “You guys better take care of that little thing before it blows on its own.”

Hunk #1 says to Hunk #2, “Small guys are so lucky. First, they don’t have to deal with big dicks being uncomfortably tucked into tight pants and second, small dick guys get the best blowjobs. They are so easy to deepthroat.”

He takes Caryn’s place on the bed, “You’ve been rock hard for over an hour. Are you ready for some relief?”

I think I involuntarily nod.

He puts some oil on his hands from a bottle he retrieved from his bag of magic tricks and he rubs them together. Then he grabs my shaft and I see skyrockets. His touch is electric. He combs his fingers through my pubic hair and grazes down my testicles, tugging and gently pulling. His fingertips stroke up and down my shaft, bumping along my contours and my glans. Then he massages my length with thumbs rubbing up and down and in circles that drive me insane. I can already sense that I am about to experience the orgasm of my lifetime.

He turns to the audience, “One hand completely conceals him.” He demonstrates by wrapping a giant paw around my pulsing hard, but short, tent peg. I completely disappear in his hand. My whole body shivers in pleasure.

And then the sensation changes. He begins twisting back and forth and he strokes up and down. His palm brushes across my head and his thumb encircles below the glans with each pass. He tightens his grip and increases his pace. My legs start to bounce up and down as far as my restraints allow. He knows I’m close and he pumps harder. I announce my closeness with growls and screams. The first shot, timed perfectly with his violent upstroke, sails over my head and hits the wall. The second lands on my chest and the third pools in my belly button.

Caryn claps. “That’s what’s been missing from your life. James, I’m not mad at you. And clearly I’m not the only one with unsatisfied sexual needs. That’s what the rest of tonight is going to be about. Getting you started. Go live your life. Fuck your brothers and your father – not literally, like I did – be you.”

I ask, “Did you fuck my father too?”

She turns red, “Just once. He was having a hard time with turning sixty. He was amazing. And in case you never saw it, believe me you did not inherit your small dick from him.”

Even though my orgasm just ended, hearing Caryn talk about fucking my manly dad has my dick hardening again.

“Go be happy. Be gay. I’ve been putting the word out there for you for about a week now. Just some feelers.”

“What feelers? What word?”

“Since a week ago when I learned your secrets. Since I decided that tonight would be the end of us. I’ve been spreading the word that you’re gay and available. I also believe in truth In advertising so I had to include details of your special interests.”

I swallow hard, “Special interests?”

“Sure. That you have a tiny dick and crave to be humiliated. That you yearn to be dominated in every way. Oh, and that your dream is to be gang tickled. Preferably when tied up.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. And I know a lot of people. Expect contact. They were instructed to hold off until after tonight, but I would guess some curious dudes will be reaching out soon. In the meantime, enjoy tonight.”

Didn’t we just do that? “It’s not over?” I ask.

“I paid them for the whole night. You’ve got at least eight more hours of fun ahead of you until morning. We might not be able to make up for an entire missed lifetime in one night, but we sure can try to.”

“But I–”

She shushes me for the third time, “These guys work for me. I paid them. Well, I guess it’s technically your money, but still. They do as I say. You can beg all you want, but you will not be set free until tomorrow morning. Those are their instructions. In the meantime, work on stamina and technique. And lean into it. Have fun with it. This is your dream come true.”

I nod.

She says, “I’m taking the car. One of the boys here will drive you home. While we were having dinner, movers were moving me out. The house is all yours. Enjoy it. And enjoy tonight.”

And with that, she leaves.

Hunk #2 gets a wash cloth, wipes my chest and cleans out my belly button.

Hunk #1 says, “Let me show you what I’m talking about. Small guys get the best blowjobs.” He takes my partially erect dick in his mouth and takes me in down to my base. His tongue slithers like a snake and I quickly grow to full size in his mouth. His tongue is doing some wicked things that I didn’t think tongues could do. His mouth twists and glides and sucks. He kisses me up and down my shaft. He nibbles up the sides. He tickles my balls while he sucks my cock. My head is spinning. I haven’t even fully processed the idea that I’m still here for eight more hours. Am I a hostage? A prisoner? A client? A paying customer? A student? A horny dude who waited his whole life to be who he is?

My dick has always worked just fine, size notwithstanding. I was just asking it to do the wrong things. Hunk #1 is going at me like I’m a lollipop. I want to hold his head in what I am learning are my favorite spots, but my arms are tied. I want to guide him up and down. I want to entangle my fingers in his hair. I can’t do any of those things. But I can shoot rope after rope of hot cum down his throat so that’s what I do.

Once I’m sucked dry, he says, “Mmm. Twink juice.”

As my second orgasm winds down, my body racks with spasms. There is no way my spent cock is getting hard again tonight. No way. I’m done.

Hunk #2 unties my bindings and it doesn’t even matter. I flop and lie there like a sack of potatoes. They both lie down on the bed on either side of me. I’m naked. It’s not like I can run out the door. It’s not like I even want to. They both begin a casual stroking with their hands all over my body. They’re not tickling me like before. They’re gently gliding fingertips across my skin, giving me goosebumps and making me tingle. Hunk #1 focuses on my belly and my lower abdomen. He seems to appreciate its vulnerability. He called me “smooth twink” before when focusing on that area. Hunk #2 strokes my arms, my neck and my chest. Unbelievably, my erection is back. For the first time, Hunk #2 touches it. It is almost at full attention.

He says, “You saw the mind-blowing orgasm I gave your wife earlier.”

I nod.

“You helplessly watched as the bull,” he points at himself, “took her on the ride of a lifetime to another universe. Now, I want to take you to that same place; a place she could never take you.”

My dick perks up in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I’ll show you. As a bisexual man, this is kind of a fantasy of mine and it could come true right now. I know tonight is supposed to be about your fantasies, not mine, but I just want you to know that what I’m about to do to you is meaningful to me too. I know you enjoyed watching me ravaging your wife. I know you enjoyed being the cuckold. What’s never been done before is the bull turning on the cuckold and fucking him too.”

My mouth drops open, “You’re gonna–”

“I am going to make you cum so hard. I am going to take you to a place you never knew existed. Whatever porn you’ve watched or stories you’ve read…you’ve never imagined sensations like the ones about to rain down on you right now. Your head is about to spin. Your whole body is about to explode. And I will so enjoy being the one to do it to you.”

He sits up and reaches into his bag of tricks. He pulls out something small and black and weird shaped. “This is a prostate stimulator,” he says. He applies some lubrication and slowly glides it into my anus. I involuntarily clench around it and it feels odd. And interesting. And good. And then he turns it on. Another new sensation assaults me in the best possible way. I almost bite my tongue.

Hunk #1 begins kissing me while still rubbing my belly and circling my navel. Hunk #2 puts my legs on his shoulders and my once again throbbing cock points at his face. He giggles and says, “Pathetic but cute. Let’s see what this baby dick can do. You know, You might be the only guy in town who hasn’t given your wife an orgasm.”

My dick jerks at the degradation.

He continues, “Every man in a five mile radius thinks you’re impotent, but we know better. You were just lacking proper inspiration. Prepare to be inspired.”

My cock surges and a blob of precum rolls down my shaft.

Finally, he swallows me whole while his toy buzzes inside of me and has my entire body humming. He uses one hand to stroke my ball sack and the other to apply gentle pressure to my perineum. I am being stimulated in so many places at the same time that right now, I don’t even know my own name. I am particularly aroused by the knowledge that the mouth and tongue that just recently made my wife gasp, moan and shudder is now doing the same to me. It first had its way with her and now it is dominating me. I am helpless to stop it which makes me wish it would never stop. I have never been more excited.

Just the kissing alone would have been amazing, but add in everything else… The belly strokes, the navel play, the scrotum play, the wonderful massaging of my perineum, the vibrating stimulation on my prostate and my iron shaft getting slathered by another magical tongue… All I need are two more guys to suck my toes and I would be on Mars. As it is, it’s so much. It’s too much. After these first two orgasms, I figured my poor dick would be dead for a week. I was wrong. And if Hunk #1’s tongue wasn’t filling my mouth, I would be howling and shrieking in pure ecstasy. I wish this insane delight could go on for an hour but I am weak and pathetic. My stamina is something to work on but right now, I’m too far gone. How could I not be during this six point attack on my virgin-like body? Sensory overload overcomes me within five minutes and I explode in my third violent orgasm. This one rocks the whole room. The whole building. The whole world.

Hunk #2 grins at Hunk #1, “I did it! I made history! I wrecked him! First I fucked the wife’s brains out and then I got the husband even better. One couple, one bull and two devastating orgasms! In the same night! Look at him. I mean, I know he’s a pathetic weakling, but I just drained every ounce of life out of the guy.”

“And every ounce of cum,” Hunk #1 points out.

That is the understatement of the millennium. I am beyond wrecked and devastated. My heart is almost pounding out of my chest. My dick hasn’t even deflated yet. I can hardly catch my breath. A sheen of sweat covers my whole body and I don’t think I smell like a twink anymore. For the first time in my life, I smell like a man. Like sweat and sex and testosterone. I have officially been deflowered.

Hunk #1 stops playing with my navel long enough to high five Hunk #2. “Which was better?”

“This one for sure. I took him somewhere he never knew it was possible to go. His dream was to be dominated but he had no idea what I was capable of doing to him.”

Hunk #1 says, “Now fuck him for real. That little toy got him loosened up. Fill that hole. Plow him the way you know you want to.”

My ass involuntarily clenches at the thought.

Hunk #2 grins, grabs a condom and begins rolling it onto his massive cock. He drizzles lube over the whole situation. He takes my left leg, kisses the sole of my foot and places it back on his right shoulder. He repeats the process with my right leg and his left shoulder. He advises me, “Relax. Unclench. Just let go of everything. Release your core. Pretend there’s not a muscle in your whole body.”

#1 says, “That won’t take much pretending.”

#2 makes slow contact. Then he pushes gently. His first three inches are inside of me and I’ve never felt anything like this before. Another inch and my prostate gets bumped and nudged. My toes curl. #2 moans in pleasure while I am literally breathless. He pulls a little out and glides back in, each time going just a touch deeper than the last. Each stroke bumps, rubs and massages my prostate. I find my breath and begin to moan and groan. I think his plunges are all the way in now. His hips slap my ass cheeks with each thrust.

My dick is hard again and #1 strokes it while #2 plows my ass. Just as #2 reaches climax, I have another orgasm of my own on my stomach. As he climaxes, his face turns red and he growls and screams more than he did when his giant dick was inside of my wife.

He says, panting, “He was way better for sure.”

They both hug up against me and I’m in the middle of a human sandwich of men. I can’t even tell which hands belong to whom, but there are four of them stroking and caressing me all over. My back gets massaged. The back of my neck gets kissed. My thighs get rubbed, my nipples get sucked and it’s not long before I’m hard and dripping again.

A condom gets slid over my cock. Hunk #1 says, “We had to go to three different drug stores to find size extra small.”

Ironically, that makes me harder.

Hunk #2 says, “Fuck me back.”

And that’s what I do. He turns face down and #1 coaches me through what to do. It takes some interesting maneuvering on his part, but he manages to position himself so my not-quite-five-inches just barely pokes at his prostate. He seems to mildly enjoy the sensation while I find myself in complete euphoria. I’ve already lost count of my orgasms, but damn I fill that condom.

After another brief rest, Hunk #1 pulls a new toy out of the bag. A flesh light. He says, Again, extra small.” They both laugh again. This time Hunk #2 kisses me while #1 works the toy up and down my lead pipe. When #2 starts kissing my belly and plunging his tongue into my belly button just as #1 twists and slides that toy just the right way and at just the right speed, I cum again.

#2 says, “For such a small weakling, you sure are horny. I’m impressed.”

A lifetime of experiences in one night, right? My dead dick flops uselessly against my belly. It feels even smaller than usual. I think it’s truly over now.

#1 says, “Impressed? Why? This guy had ten years and was never able to fuck his own wife. Then he watched her get fucked for real by an actual man as he lay there helpless with his little willie pointing futilely at the ceiling. He has no muscles, he looks like a twink, he smells like a twink, his best friend fucked his wife, his big brother fucked his wife, his baby brother fucked his wife, his dad fucked his wife. Half of this town fucked his wife. Every one of those people has a much bigger dick than him. His baby brother bullied him his whole life. His brothers tickle tortured him every day. What’s so impressive?”

I know what he’s doing. Humiliation is part of what Caryn paid these guys for. And knowing it changed nothing. It worked. The first insult woke my baby dick up and each one that followed made it harder and harder. I never knew the body could make sperm so fast, but my next orgasm was only twenty minutes away. #1 put us in a 69 position and I slowly licked and sucked his dick while he did the same to me. All the while #2 spooned up behind me and kissed and rubbed my boyish feet while his monster cock pressed against my back. Our timing was a little off. #1 brought me to climax first, but I did manage to get him too. Being my first time, I was afraid to swallow, so I finished him with my hands. He had no complaints as he shot out buckets of cum.

By the morning my body had been touched, licked, kissed, caressed, tickled, sucked, vibrated and massaged over every square inch and in every imaginable way. I totaled ten orgasms received and three given. I hadn’t pulled an all-nighter since my college days and never before had it been like this, though there was plenty of cramming. I almost wish there was a final exam.

By 6:00AM, time is up and the guys get dressed. I start to get up too, but they stop me. Hunk #1 says, “We’ll dress you. It’s part of the full service package. Besides, we were the ones who stripped you.”

They gather my strewn clothes from around the room. My shirt is ruined, having been cut off of me, and gets tossed in the garbage can. I tell them that there should be another shirt in my duffle bag. Caryn had said she packed everything I’d need for a hotel stay. Hunk #2 unzips my bag, peers inside and chuckles. He tosses me the bag. All that’s in it is a set of signed divorce papers with a Post-It note attached that says, “Happy Anniversary.”

Hunk #1 slides my underwear on me like I’m a child. He kisses my penis before pulling them up into place and damn if I don’t chub up. Next they slide my jeans on and work the zipper and button. They each put a foot in their lap. Still bare, they begin massaging. After the extreme sensations of the last ten hours, this feels really nice. Then #1 gets cute and starts nibbling my toes, making me giggle and squirm. Then they both suck my toes. My toes have never been sucked before. I decide I like it. But eventually, time is up and my socks and shoes are put back on.

As they tighten and tie the laces of my high-tops, #2 says, “Our job was to bring your fantasies to life. How’d we do?”

“I think I am now officially woke.”

They give me their business card. #1 says, “While this is a business and we do get paid, I meant it when I said you were fun. The most fun we’ve had in forever. We would love to do this again sometime. Just the three of us. No mean wife. We have many tools and techniques you have not seen yet.”

Since my shirt was cut and ruined, I have to leave the hotel shirtless. Just a bare-chested thirty five year old twink. The hunks told me not to worry. They said I was too cute to be stopped by hotel security.

~~

Caryn did not lie. She was gone by the time I made it home. Home. My home. I thought of all the men who used my bed in my house to satisfy my wife in a way that I never could. How useless and pathetic am I? I always need another man any time a job needs doing. If my car breaks, I need another strong man to repair it. If my furnace breaks, I need a strong competent man to replace it. If a pipe bursts, I need a capable man to fix it. Hell, if the lid of a jar of pickles is on too tight, I need another man to open it. And then to tell me that every one of those pickles is bigger than my own pickle.

I don’t do anything myself. So when my wife needed to be fucked, I couldn’t do that job either. I needed other brave strong men to step in for me and be the man I couldn’t be. Right under my nose. In my house, in my bedroom, wrapped in my sheets and blankets… Dozens of them. Leaving their mark on my territory. Probably leaving behind fingerprints and DNA as well. And leaving me feeling duped and emasculated. I feel violated and humiliated.

And erect from the fantasies left in my brain. Yes, these thoughts and images turn me on. Did manly bare feet walk on my heated bathroom tiles? How many naked men brought my wife to earthshattering orgasms in my bed? Then slept on my side? Drooled on my pillow? Soaked their masculine sweat right down into the fibers of my mattress? Dripped their cum under my covers? Did Caryn ever forget to change the sheets before I got home? On purpose? I hope so. If I were to shine a black light in my bedroom, it would probably light up like a Christmas tree from sperm, but none of it would be mine.

Most of them I’d never know. Perhaps the Door Dash guy or our UPS driver. What kind of deliveries does Caryn accept? Maybe the Barista at Starbucks who makes my coffee with a smile is one of them. His smile has always seemed borderline flirtatious. Maybe that smile isn’t for me, but rather it’s a knowing smile at my expense. Maybe he laughs when I walk out the door. Maybe Caryn told him that my dick is tiny. Maybe he told all of his coworkers and everyone he knows. Maybe I’m glad he knows. I like it that he knows. I like that he thinks he’s dominant over me. He is. I’d like him to rub his dominant dick all over my face. Save some of that seed that he pumps into my wife and pump it down my throat. Degrading me while he does.

I hope the whole town knows of my inadequacy. And when I do call the plumber or the furnace guy or the mechanic, maybe they all fuck her too. Why wouldn’t they? It’s a service fee. And maybe my doctor and my dentist are in on it too. Sure, why not?

My doctor knows I have a small penis. He’s seen it numerous times. He’s seen it more times than I figured he should have, like when I was just in for a flu shot. “James, let’s make sure everything is okay down there.” And then the exam went on longer than it should. Especially since there’s not much there to examine. But he kept examining me so long that I got hard. He chuckled and told me it was nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens. But then he kept on examining me. The doctor is not an unattractive man. I asked what he was doing and he said that the last time Caryn was in, she told him that she didn’t think my penis was functioning properly and could he take a look. Well, those words plus his stroking hand did it. It had a pathetic little orgasm right in the doctor’s hand. Nothing like when Hunk #1 made me shoot the wall above my head last night.

The doctor said, “It might be small, but it works just fine.” And he chuckled. I bet his works just fine too. I’m sure he’s tested it out on my wife. Probably multiple times. Who else has the doctor told? All the nurses? The other doctors in town? Other patients? Maybe it’s a note in my chart.

I just know they all laugh behind my back. Repair men make up fake invoices for stuff that isn’t even broken just to charge me more and to come back and fuck my wife senseless all over again. There it is right there. I have a raging boner right now imagining that not only are these guys all fucking my wife, but that I’m actually paying them to do so. And not just for her, but for me too. I only wish I could watch. And not like a spy camera incognito. No. I want to be seen. I want them both to know I’m there and to deride me the whole time. To grin at me and see my humiliation. To see my responding erection. To laugh at it. Oh, I would pay so much more to be a live audience.

All of it makes my dick hard. Thinking about these strange men being in my house and being in my bed. Drinking from my glasses. Eating my food. Cumming in my wife. Making her make sounds I couldn’t even imagine. Standing naked in my shower. Using my soap. Wiping their dripping manly cocks on my towel and hoping I dry my face with it later. Using all of my possessions like they’re their own. And wishing they would use me too.

If they asked to see my tiny dick and measure it for themselves, I would be glad to comply. Maybe my tiny cock is now the town myth. The story every kid grows up hearing. They want to believe they’re all twice my size. Imagining my twink-dick side by side with their weapons of mass destruction. A battle I’ll lose every time with me always drawing the short straw.

I walk upstairs to the bedroom.

Maybe these men in my house think about me too, wondering about the small guy with the hot wife. Not knowing if the rumors are true. Wanting to see for themselves. So they snoop around my closet and in my dresser drawers. Checking out my underwear and imagining my tiny package within. Maybe they have an urge to use one of my shoes to jerk off into, but finding my small shoe too small for their massive cocks, they settle for sniffing it instead. They’ll find no smell because there is no smell. It’s like I don’t even exist. An inconsequential man with a ghost dick. I don’t have manly shoes, I have cute shoes. I own no work boots because I do no work. I pay people to mow my lawn and shovel my snow. People who Caryn has probably fucked in my bed. They borrow my robe and maybe a pair of my socks as their feet don’t fit in my slippers.

Do they all laugh at me? Does every man in this town know that my dick is as small as a cocktail weenie? And if they don’t, can I tell them? Showing them would be even better.

Metaphorically, every man who fucked my wife fucked me too. That includes my best friend, my brothers and my dad. Did any of them wish I was there? Watching? I do. That’s my biggest regret – that I only have mental images and fantasies. I would love to have been a witness. Like last night with Hunk #2. And then he fucked me too, making me his bitch twice. Did any of the others want to do things to me too? I can wish that they would. I get a wet spot on my underwear thinking about it now. I imagine them fucking my wife senseless in front of me, humiliating me, then turning to me and fucking me too. Their mouths on me. Mine on them. Then my dick in their mouths and their dicks jammed up my ass.

How many of them have there been? She said it’s been going on for all ten years of our marriage with me conveniently traveling every other week. Maybe dozens and dozens are actually hundreds and hundreds. Every guy I pass on the street is a possibility. Every dude at the bowling alley, the pharmacy and even the cart boy at the grocery store. They all know and I don’t. My boner rages harder thinking that most men in this town have fucked my wife in my house and at my expense. It arouses me even more to imagine it was every man. At least every man between nineteen and sixty.

And what about the ones I know personally? I am helpless to confront any of them. What could I possibly say to my dad? And my brothers could still beat me up and probably would. Or pin me down and tickle me to unconsciousness, even though were grown adults now. They all could beat me up; the mechanic, the furnace guy, the plumber and the Barista for that matter. The teenage girl next door could beat me up if she wanted to. But none of them do because I’m cute. I’m cute, dumb, ignorant and harmless.

I guess I’m feeling most betrayed by Josh, my supposed best friend. Maybe he’s not such a great friend after all. Or maybe I’ve been harboring secret feelings for him for years and I’m jealous that Caryn is the one who got to live out my fantasy.

But then I think about what Caryn said. She told me to live the life that’s right for me. She told me to be happy. To be gay. Fuck everybody else. She did. Literally.

I take the Hunk Guys’ business card and store it safely in my desk drawer. I will definitely be calling them one day. I know it won’t be the same. Some of the magic will be gone. How could it not? Last night was a surprise. Plus, I started out tied up, helpless and clueless as to the menu of events for the night. Even though they promised more tricks and new experiences, nothing could top last night. But still, it will be fun and I will call. I know I’ll have to pay, but they said they had fun too and I believed them. Maybe, just maybe, they even liked me. Or they just had a good time playing with me. Whatever.

In the meantime, I go online and find an old underused contact – Brian Giles from Prom night. The guy that Caryn had thought I stared at all night. As usual, Caryn was right. I did have a crush on him. I open a new message box and type: “Hey Brian, it’s James from high school. Remember me? Would you like to get a beer some time?”

I get an almost immediate reply: “Hey James. Of course I remember you. I’d been thinking about reaching out myself but I guess you beat me to it. I’ve been back in town for about six months now and I’ve been hearing your name here and there. A beer sounds great. How about tomorrow night at the bar in the Hotel Indigo? I’ll rent a double room in case either of us drinks too much and shouldn’t drive home.”

The whole town really is talking about me. James the tiny dick cuckold. I get a boner right now reading Brian’s reply. He has clearly heard the rumors. He wants to rent a room to get a look for himself. Is he hoping that the rumors are true or exaggerated? And either way, what does he plan to do about it? I can’t wait to find out. I reply back with a yes and we set the time for 8:00 tomorrow.

I am about to take a much needed shower when the doorbell rings. I head downstairs and swing it open, forgetting that I’m still shirtless. I haven’t had a shirt on in something like fourteen hours now. That’s a lifetime record for me.

It’s Josh. At the sight of him I feel betrayal. Most of the men in this town have betrayed me, but Josh’s betrayal is personal. Especially because of my secret and unrequited crush on him. God is he gorgeous.

He looks me up and down. I must be a complete mess, thrashing around in that bed all night, not having showered yet, answering the door without a shirt…this is not the James that Josh has ever known. His eyes take in the full length of me. From my high-tops they slowly scroll up and pause at my scrawny naked upper body. He shoves me backwards, steps inside and closes the door behind him.

I shove him back, “Your lover’s not here.”

He steps up to me so close that our noses touch. His hot breath is on my face when he replies, “Yes he is.”

And then his mouth is on mine. His hands are on my body, his tongue is in my mouth and his erection is pressing against my thigh. I don’t think about it, I just go with it. He wants to take the lead and I let him. Like a good little sub, I let him dominate me. We fall backwards onto the sofa and we never break mouth contact as his roaming hands explore my chest and stomach like a blind man’s. His erection is still pressed against my leg and mine is pressing against my jeans. Oh yeah. It’s still working just fine.

We don’t speak at all. Not with words. Not right now. His tongue goes in my ear and then trails down my neck. He kisses my collar bone and then sucks on my left nipple. I grab him by the hair. As he switches nipples, his hands go to work on my button and zipper. I help him out with a lift of my ass and suddenly my jeans are around my knees. His mouth finds my sternum and sucks its way lower as his hands grip and stroke my rock hard shaft. He hasn’t looked with his eyes yet, but his hands know. The rumors may be an exaggeration, but my four and a half inches are in his hands. If there was more to give, it would be given because this moment with Josh is my number one fantasy come true. I couldn’t be more turned on. But no matter how much blood my heart pumps to the region, my dick is only as big as it is and it has hit maximum capacity.

But Josh doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t even look. As his slithering tongue travels lower and lower, his hands leave me and his mouth takes me in. I can’t smell great. The last twelve hours were full of men and sweat and saliva and sperm. So much sperm. But he doesn’t seem to care about that either. In fact, Josh isn’t just sucking my dick, he’s worshipping it. He is lavishing my cock with licks and kisses and sucks and deepthroating. After all those orgasms last night, my stamina is at an all-time high and I last a good ten minutes before my eyes roll back into my head, my hands pull his hair, my ass leaves the couch, I scream his name and I shoot my load down Josh’s throat. He sucks away the whole time drinking every drop until I’m dry and left a quivering puddle of goo. He is still fully clothed. I am naked from my knees up.

I reach out to touch him, but he shakes me off and stands. He says, “I owed you that one.” He wipes his mouth on his sleeve and looks down at me, “There is still so much I want to do to you, and I’m gonna. I’m gonna do all of it. And you’re gonna let me. We’ve only just begun here.”

He seems like he’s waiting for an answer, so I nod.

He finally looks at my spent cock as it deflates against my belly. All he says is, “It’s beautiful.” He looks over the rest of me, “I’m coming back again and again. Whenever I want. I’ll only stop when you stop responding.”

Unbelievably, my dick is coming back to life again. Already. He says, “When looking at me staring down at your naked body doesn’t make that happen anymore,” he nods at my once again full erection that is pointing at the ceiling, “then and only then will I stop coming over and milking you dry.”

I am at my full four and a half inches of glory again.

He sees it pulsing and bouncing in a rage of hot desire. He grins, “Based on the evidence before me, my visits will go on forever.” And with that, he walks out the door.

I lie there for ten more minutes, catching my breath. I consider canceling tomorrow night with Brian, based on a new beginning with Josh, but I decide not to. Caryn was right again; I couldn’t make up for a missed lifetime in one night, but that one night was a good start.

Eventually I get up and take that shower. After, I’m dressed and downstairs checking my email when I see three unread messages, new since I last checked yesterday before dinner. One is from our furnace guy addressed specifically to me, James, saying that I am being offered a free personal inspection. Personal? It goes on to say that depending on how the inspection goes, we can discuss a long term maintenance plan. This email is from his personal account, not from his company. It’s a personal email offering a personal inspection.

My dick stirs as I re-read the message three more times.

The next email is from the local mechanic. He wants to make a house call to test out my ignition and my emission system. If necessary, he might be able to offer me a free tune-up. Mechanics don’t make house calls. He never even mentioned the make or model of my car.

I am almost completely erect now.

The third email is from my doctor who is urgently ordering me to make an appointment because I am overdue for a head to toe physical. He wants to recheck that little concern from last year. He has some new physical therapy techniques he wants to try out on me to lengthen my size and my stamina. Also, I need a prostate exam. I should set aside the whole afternoon because both procedures will be involved and invasive taking significant time to administer. He further forewarns me that a group of new medical students will be observing and participating.

The image of an audience watching as I get tugged and stretched has my full four-and-a-half inches of glory threatening the seams of my jeans. Picturing them all looking at me like I’m an exhibit at the zoo or a science experiment has me flushed and ready to explode. I should sell tickets. My show would be called The Almost Man; How Can Such a Small Canon Blow Such a Big Load?

I log onto the doctor’s website and make an appointment for Wednesday. I reply to the mechanic that he can come over on Thursday. I answer the furnace guy and tell him Friday would work best for that personal inspection. And Josh will probably swing by every day too. Plus I have Brian at the hotel tomorrow. I am indeed making up for lost time. If I go any faster, my dick might fall off.

I guess Caryn really has been spreading the word. Suddenly, I’m Mister Popular.

 

The End.