The Comparison
A Fictional Story by CuckedLoser55.
“I want to try a threesome.”
Tom set down his fork. His face went through several expressions in rapid succession—surprise, confusion, something that looked almost like fear. “With… another guy?”
“With another guy.” Karen swirled the wine in her glass. “I love you, Tom. You know that. But I think we both know that our sex life has been… limited.”
Tom’s ears went red. He knew exactly what she meant. He’d known for years. His dick was barely three inches hard—small enough that he’d been self-conscious about it since middle school, when he’d first realized in the locker room that he wasn’t built like other boys. Karen had never complained outright, but he’d seen the look on her face during sex. That polite, patient expression. The way she always suggested positions where she could control the depth. The way she’d stopped initiating altogether about two years ago.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“I found someone,” Karen continued. “His name is Warren. He’s thirty-four, he’s fit, he’s respectful, and he’s… well-endowed. Very well-endowed.”
“How well-endowed?”
Karen looked at him with a small, almost pitying smile. “About nine inches.”
Tom swallowed hard. Nine inches. More than triple what he was working with. The thought made his stomach flip in a way that was equal parts humiliation and something else—something electric that he didn’t want to examine too closely.
“I think it could be good for us,” Karen said softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “You’ve always wanted to please me, right? This way you can. You can watch me get satisfied the way I deserve, and we can share that experience.”
Tom looked at his wife—her dark hair, her full lips, the cleavage visible above the neckline of her dress. He loved her so much it hurt. And he knew, in the quiet honest part of himself, that she was right. He’d never been able to give her what she needed with what he had between his legs.
“Okay,” he whispered.
—
Warren arrived on a Saturday evening. He was tall—over six feet—with broad shoulders and an easy confidence that made Tom feel small the moment he walked through the door. He shook Tom’s hand with a firm grip, his dark eyes warm but amused, like he knew a secret.
They had drinks in the living room first. Karen sat between them on the couch, her bare knee touching Warren’s thigh. Tom sat on the other side, nursing a beer he could barely taste.
“So,” Warren said, looking at Tom with a casual directness. “Karen tells me you’re on board with this.”
“I am,” Tom said, though his voice came out thin.
“Good.” Warren smiled. “She also told me about your… situation.”
Tom’s face burned. “She told you about—”
“That you have a very small penis? Yeah.” Warren said it as if he were commenting on the weather. “Karen’s been pretty frustrated. I’m here to help with that.”
Karen put her hand on Warren’s leg and leaned into him. “Why don’t we take this to the bedroom?”
Tom followed them down the hall like a man walking to his own execution. Or something like it. His heart was hammering, his palms were sweating, and—confusingly—his tiny dick was already stiff in his pants, straining at its meager length.
The bedroom was dimly lit with candles Karen had set up earlier. The king-sized bed dominated the room, fresh sheets pulled back. Karen turned to Warren and kissed him—deeply, hungrily, her tongue sliding into his mouth in a way she’d never kissed Tom. Warren’s big hands gripped her ass through her dress, pulling her against him.
Tom stood awkwardly near the door, not sure where to put himself.
“Sit in the chair, babe,” Karen said, breaking the kiss and pointing to the armchair she’d placed beside the bed. “You get the best view from there.”
Tom sat. The chair was close enough that he could see everything. Too close, maybe.
Karen unzipped her dress and let it fall. She wasn’t wearing a bra—her breasts were full and heavy, nipples already hard. She slid her panties down and stepped out of them, completely naked, her body flushed and eager. She turned to Tom and gave him a small smile.
“Ready to see something different?”
Tom didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
Warren pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a chest packed with muscle. Then he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans, and pushed them down along with his boxers.
Tom’s mouth went dry.
Warren’s cock was enormous. It hung between his thighs, thick and veined, not even hard yet, and it was already bigger than Tom’s was at full mast. Karen knelt in front of him and took it in both hands, stroking it slowly, and it grew—lengthening, thickening, rising to its full nine inches with a weight and heft that made Tom’s stomach clench with a sick, hot shame.
“God, I’ve missed a real cock,” Karen breathed, nuzzling it against her cheek. She looked sideways at Tom. “Look at this, baby. Look at how big a real man’s dick is.”
Tom looked. He couldn’t look away.
Karen licked up the shaft, her tongue tracing the thick vein running along the underside, then swirled around the fat head before taking it into her mouth. Warren groaned and buried his hand in her hair. She could barely fit the head past her lips, and she was working her jaw wide, drooling down the shaft, slurping with a wet, obscene sound.
“You see how I have to work for it?” Karen said, popping off for a moment, spit trailing from her lips to his cockhead. “With yours, Tom, I barely have to open my mouth. There’s nothing to work for.”
Warren laughed. “How big are you, man? Karen said three inches, but I thought she was exaggerating.”
“Two and three-quarters,” Tom muttered, his face on fire.
Warren let out a low whistle. “Two and three-quarters. Jesus. I’ve got more than that just in cockhead.” He looked down at Karen. “Show him. Get him hard and show him.”
Karen stood up and walked to Tom, naked and glistening with spit. She knelt in front of his chair. “Pull it out, Tom. Show Warren your little dick.”
Tom’s hands were shaking as he unzipped his pants and pushed them down. His erection strained outward—two and three-quarters inches of pale, thin cock, twitching against his thigh. Next to Warren’s monster, it looked like a joke. Like a thumb.
Karen wrapped her fingers around it—her whole fist enclosed it easily—and gave it a couple of tugs. “See? It’s cute in its way,” she said, and the word cute landed like a slap. “But it’s not a cock. It’s a little nub.” She let go of it and stood, turning back to Warren. “This is a cock.”
She returned to the bed and lay back, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy was glistening wet, lips parted, flushed pink with arousal. Warren climbed between her thighs, his massive cock swinging heavily, and rubbed the head up and down her slit.
“Tell him what you want,” Warren said, loud enough for Tom to hear.
“I want you to fuck me with that big cock,” Karen said, her eyes locked on Warren’s. “I want to feel what a real dick is like. I want you to stretch me out and fill me up.”
“Ask your husband.”
Karen turned her head to look at Tom. “Tom, baby. I want Warren to fuck me. I need it. I need a cock that can actually reach the places yours can’t. Can he fuck me? Please?”
Tom swallowed. His tiny dick was twitching, leaking pre-cum onto his thigh. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, he can fuck you.”
Warren positioned the fat head against Karen’s opening and pushed. Karen’s mouth fell open, her eyes going wide, and she let out a long, shuddering moan as inch after inch of thick cock sank into her. Tom watched her pussy stretch around the girth of it, her lips pulling and gripping as he fed more inside. Warren kept pushing, slowly, steadily, until he was buried to the root—nine inches deep in Tom’s wife, deeper than Tom could ever reach.
“Oh fuck,” Karen gasped, her hands gripping the sheets. “Oh my God, I can feel it in my stomach. Tom, I can feel his cock so deep—oh God, so much deeper than you’ve ever been—”
Warren pulled back until just the head was inside, then drove forward again, and Karen screamed. Not a polite, restrained moan like the sounds she made with Tom—a raw, full-throated scream of pleasure that Tom had never heard from her in ten years of marriage.
He started fucking her with long, deep strokes. Each thrust made Karen’s whole body jolt, her breasts bouncing, her hands clawing at the sheets. She was moaning continuously now, her head thrown back, her face contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy.
“This is what fucking is supposed to feel like,” Karen panted, turning her glazed eyes toward Tom. “This—oh God, right there—this is what I’ve been missing. I’ve been faking it for years, Tom. Years. Your little baby dick never made me feel anything like this.”
Tom sat in the chair, his two-and-three-quarter-inch erection twitching pathetically against his thigh, watching his wife get fucked by a real cock. He could see her creaming on Warren’s shaft—a thick white ring of her juices building around the base, proof of how wet she was, how aroused. She’d never gotten that wet for him. Not once.
Warren picked up the pace, slamming into her harder, and Karen started cumming. It hit her like a wave—her back arching, her legs clamping around Warren’s hips, her pussy clenching and spasming around his thick shaft as she screamed his name. She squirted, something she’d never done with Tom—a gush of fluid soaking Warren’s cock and balls, dripping onto the sheets.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—Tom, I’m cumming so hard, I’m cumming on a real cock, I’m—oh God, I’m cumming again—”
She came twice more in rapid succession, each orgasm rolling into the next, her body shaking, tears streaming down her face. Warren kept fucking her through it, relentless, his big cock pistoning in and out of her soaked, swollen pussy.
“Look at him,” Warren said, still thrusting. He nodded toward Tom. “Sitting there with his little nub hard, watching his wife get destroyed. You like watching, little man?”
Tom didn’t answer. He was transfixed, his eyes glued to the point where Warren’s cock entered Karen’s body, watching the thick shaft spread her open, watching her cum again and again on another man’s dick.
“His little thing is leaking,” Karen gasped between moans. “Look at it, Warren. He’s getting off on watching me get fucked by a real man. His tiny dick is dripping.”
Warren laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that didn’t break his rhythm. “Pathetic. Can’t even fuck his own wife but he gets hard watching someone else do it.”
“Don’t stop,” Karen begged. “Keep fucking me. Make me cum again. I want to cum on your big cock until I can’t think.”
Warren flipped her over, pulling her up onto her hands and knees, and drove back into her from behind. Karen’s face was pressed into the mattress, her ass up, and she was moaning into the sheets as Warren gripped her hips and fucked her with deep, brutal strokes. The sound of it—wet, slapping, obscene—filled the room.
Tom could see everything from his chair. Karen’s pussy stretched tight around Warren’s girth, her asshole puckering with each thrust, her juices running down her thighs. He could see her face—mouth open, eyes rolled back, lost in pleasure he had never and could never give her.
“I’m gonna cum inside her,” Warren announced, looking at Tom. “You good with that, little man? You good with me filling your wife’s pussy with my load?”
Tom should have said no. He should have objected. Instead, he nodded.
Karen lifted her head. “Do it. Cum inside me. Fill me up. I want to feel it—Tom, I want to feel what a real man’s load is like.”
Warren grunted, gripped her hips tight, and buried himself deep. His cock pulsed visibly—Tom could see the thick shaft throbbing as he pumped jet after jet of hot cum into Karen’s pussy. Karen screamed through another orgasm as she felt it, her pussy clenching and milking every drop.
When Warren finally pulled out, Karen’s pussy was a mess. Gaping open, red and swollen, cum dripping out of her and running down her thighs. She rolled onto her back, breathing hard, a satisfied smile on her face.
“That,” she said, “was the best fuck of my life.”
She looked at Tom. “Come here, baby. Come look at this.”
Tom stood on shaky legs and approached the bed. Up close, he could see everything—Karen’s stretched, cum-filled pussy, the evidence of Warren’s size and stamina. She reached down and spread her lips open with her fingers, and a thick glob of cum oozed out.
“See what a real cock does to me?” Karen said softly. “See how much he came? That’s what a real man’s load looks like. Not those two little drops you dribble out.”
Warren was lounging against the headboard, his still-semi-hard cock resting against his thigh, glistening with Karen’s juices. He looked at Tom’s twitching little erection and smirked.
“Go ahead, man. I can tell you need to take care of that. Jerk it off for us. Show us what you’ve got.”
Karen propped herself up on her elbows, cum still leaking from her pussy. “Yeah, Tom. Jerk that little thing for us. I want to see you do it while Warren’s cum is inside me.”
Tom wrapped two fingers around his tiny cock—it barely took two—and started stroking. He could feel how close he already was, just from watching. The humiliation, the visual of his wife’s ruined pussy, the mocking—it was all too much. He pumped his little nub fast and desperate, his hips bucking, his breathing ragged.
“Look at him go,” Warren said, amused. “Two fingers. That’s all he needs.”
“He doesn’t even need a full hand,” Karen said, and they both laughed.
Tom felt it building—the tight, desperate pressure of an orgasm that had been threatening for the last hour. He stroked faster, his little cock twitching in his grip, and then he came.
It was pathetic. A thin, weak spurt—barely a dribble—that oozed from the tip and ran over his fingers. A few more drops, watery and thin, and then nothing. His whole load couldn’t have been more than a teaspoon, and it had barely shot out at all—just leaked from the end of his cock like a slow, sad faucet.
Karen and Warren stared at it, then at each other, and burst out laughing.
“That’s it?” Karen howled. “That’s your load? Oh my God, Tom. Warren came inside me like a fire hose and you just… dribbled. You dribbled out a few drops.”
Warren was shaking his head, grinning. “I’ve seen more come out of a ketchup bottle on its last legs. That was the saddest cumshot I’ve ever seen.”
Karen sat up, letting more of Warren’s cum leak from her pussy. “And look at it—his little nub is already going soft. Two minutes and he’s done. Warren’s still half-hard and he’s already made me cum six times.”
She looked at Warren, then back at Tom. “Clean yourself up, Tom. And while you do—Warren and I are going to go again.”
Warren was already stroking his cock back to full hardness, that thick shaft swelling in his fist. He pulled Karen toward him, and she straddled his lap, guiding his cock to her cum-slick pussy.
“Round two,” Warren said, looking at Tom with a grin. “You might want to get comfortable in that chair, little man. We’re going to be a while.”
Karen sank onto Warren’s cock and threw her head back, moaning as she took every inch. She looked at Tom one last time, her eyes hot and satisfied.
“Watch closely, baby. This is what real sex looks like.”
Tom sat back down in the chair, his limp little dick still dripping, and watched his wife ride the biggest cock she’d ever had. She was already cumming again within minutes, and Warren’s hands were everywhere—her breasts, her ass, her hips—claiming her completely.
As Karen screamed through yet another orgasm, Tom realized with a sinking, humiliating clarity that this wasn’t a one-time thing. This was going to happen again. And again. And he was going to sit in that chair every single time, watching, leaking, and being laughed at.
The worst part—the most shameful part—was that his tiny dick was already starting to get hard again.
Karen rode Warren like a woman possessed. Her hips rolled and ground, her slick pussy sliding up and down the full length of his shaft, taking every inch over and over. She’d already cum more times in one night than she had in the past year of marriage, but she wasn’t done. Not even close.
Tom watched from the chair, his limp little dick twitching pathetically as it tried—and failed—to get hard again. The refractory period alone was humiliating; Warren had barely softened after his first orgasm before Karen coaxed him back to full mast with her mouth, and now he was steel again, that thick-veined column plunging in and out of Tom’s wife while she whimpered and shook.
“Right there, right there, oh fuck right there—” Karen chanted, her hands braced on Warren’s chest, her tits bouncing heavily. She ground down in a tight circle, her clit mashed against his pubic bone, and her whole body seized up. “I’m cumming again—oh God, Warren, I’m cumming again—”
Her pussy clamped down hard on Warren’s cock, and she let out a broken, sobbing moan, her thighs trembling violently. Tom could see the creamy foam of her juices coating Warren’s shaft, dripping down to pool on his balls. She squirted again—a clear stream splashing against Warren’s stomach—and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“That’s seven,” Warren said, grinning up at her. He gripped her hips and started thrusting up into her from below, his big cock hammering her fast and deep while she was still cumming. Karen screamed, her body jerking with each thrust, completely overwhelmed.
“Too much—oh fuck, it’s too much, I can’t—it’s too good—” She was babbling now, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, her pussy convulsing continuously around Warren’s relentless cock.
Warren flipped her onto her back without pulling out, hooking her legs over his shoulders and folding her in half. The new angle let him drive even deeper, and Karen’s eyes went wide with a mixture of shock and raw pleasure.
“Take it,” Warren growled, slamming into her. “Take every fucking inch.”
Tom could see Karen’s stomach bulge slightly with each deep thrust—the outline of Warren’s cock pressing visibly against her lower abdomen. She’d never felt anything that deep before. She’d never had anything that deep before.
“I’m gonna cum again,” Karen whispered, almost to herself, almost in disbelief. “Oh God, I’m gonna—fuck—”
Her eighth orgasm ripped through her like a convulsion. Her back arched off the bed, her mouth open in a silent scream, her pussy clenching so hard around Warren’s cock that he groaned through gritted teeth. He kept fucking her through it, drawing it out, making it last, until Karen was a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him.
“Good girl,” Warren said, his voice low and approving. He pulled back and slammed home one final time, burying himself to the root, and Tom watched the big man’s cock pulse and throb as he unloaded inside Karen’s pussy for the second time. Karen gasped and whimpered as she felt the hot spurts flooding her insides, her pussy milking every drop.
“Nine,” she whispered when it was over, her voice hoarse. “I came nine times.”
Warren pulled out slowly, his thick cock emerging from Karen’s pussy with a wet, obscene slurping sound. Her cunt gaped open—red, swollen, thoroughly fucked—and a thick river of cum poured out immediately, pooling on the sheets beneath her.
Warren stood up, his cock hanging heavy between his thighs, still semi-hard and glistening with Karen’s juices and his own cum. He looked down at Tom in the chair.
“Your wife has an amazing pussy,” he said casually, reaching for his clothes. “Tightest I’ve had in a while, even after all that. She clamped down on me like a vice every time she came.”
Tom said nothing. His tiny dick was hard again—barely, just that two-and-three-quarter-inch nub straining at its pathetic limit—but he didn’t touch it. He just sat there, watching Warren dress.
Warren pulled on his jeans and shirt, then leaned down and kissed Karen deeply on the mouth. She kissed him back, her tongue sliding against his, her hand cupping his jaw. It was a lover’s kiss—intimate and unhurried.
“Same time next week?” Karen asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Warren straightened up and looked at Tom one last time. “Take care of that pussy, little man. Keep it warm for me.”
He let himself out. The front door clicked shut, and the house was suddenly, brutally quiet.
Karen lay on the bed, legs spread, breathing slowly. Cum leaked steadily from her well-fucked pussy—thick, white clumps of it oozing from her swollen lips and running down to her ass, pooling on the soaked sheets. Her inner thighs were a mess of her own juices and Warren’s load, glistening in the candlelight.
She turned her head and looked at Tom. Her expression was soft but commanding—warm but with an edge that made his stomach tighten.
“Come here, Tom.”
He stood and approached the bed on unsteady legs. His tiny erection bobbed with each step, ridiculous and small.
Karen looked at it and shook her head with a small, tired smile. “Still hard. You really do get off on this, don’t you? Watching your wife get railed by a real cock?”
Tom didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The evidence was right there, twitching between his legs.
“Lie down on your back,” Karen said.
Tom obeyed, settling onto the mattress beside her. The sheets were wet beneath him—soaked with her juices and Warren’s cum, warm and slick against his back.
Karen swung a leg over him and straddled his chest, her cum-filled pussy hovering inches above his face. He could smell it—musky, salty, raw. The scent of sex and another man’s semen. Her lips were puffy and red, gaping slightly, and he could see the thick white cream pooled inside her.
“Clean me up,” Karen said.
Tom stared up at her pussy—at the mess Warren had left inside her. “Karen…”
“Clean me up, Tom.” Her voice was firm. “You watched him fuck me. You watched him cum inside me. Now you’re going to lick his cum out of my pussy. That’s what a good husband does after his wife gets fucked by a real man.”
She lowered herself down, pressing her cum-slick pussy against his mouth. Tom’s lips parted instinctively, and the taste hit him immediately—salty, bitter, thick. Warren’s cum flooded onto his tongue in a warm, heavy rush, and Karen ground her pussy against his face, smearing it across his mouth and chin.
“Lick it,” she commanded. “Lick it all out. Swallow every drop.”
Tom licked. He ran his tongue up through her swollen lips, gathering the thick cream that coated her folds. The taste was overwhelming—salty and metallic, mixed with Karen’s own tangy juices. He swallowed, felt the thick wad slide down his throat, and kept licking.
Karen moaned softly, her hands braced on the headboard, her hips rocking in small circles against his mouth. “That’s it. Get it all. Get all of Warren’s cum out of my pussy.”
Tom pushed his tongue inside her, and immediately a thick clot of semen oozed out around it—a dense, warm glob that slid directly onto his tongue. He swallowed it, then tongued deeper, and more came. Warren had cum twice inside her, and the volume was substantial. Thick ropes and clumps of his load were still pooled deep in Karen’s cunt, and each stroke of Tom’s tongue coaxed more out.
“God, that feels good,” Karen breathed, watching her husband work. “Your tongue is actually useful, at least. Better than your little dick, anyway. Keep going. Get it all out.”
Tom licked and sucked, his mouth working diligently at her swollen pussy. He sealed his lips around her opening and sucked, drawing out a thick stream of cum that filled his mouth. He swallowed it down—gulp after gulp—and kept sucking. The taste was becoming familiar now, almost addictive. His tiny dick was throbbing against his stomach, leaking pre-cum onto his belly.
Karen’s hips started moving faster, grinding harder against his face. Her breathing quickened. “Right there,” she gasped. “Right there—keep your tongue right there—oh fuck—”
She came. Her pussy convulsed violently against his mouth, and the contraction squeezed out a huge clot of Warren’s cum—a thick, dense wad that pushed directly past Tom’s lips and onto his tongue. He swallowed it just as another contraction hit, and another wave of semen flooded his mouth. Her cunt was milking itself, pushing out the rest of Warren’s load in rhythmic pulses, and Tom took every one, swallowing greedily while Karen shook and moaned above him.
“Don’t stop,” Karen panted. “Keep licking. I want to cum again.”
Tom kept licking. His tongue found her clit—swollen and sensitive—and he circled it, flicked it, sucked it gently between his lips. Karen’s thighs clamped around his head, her whole body trembling.
“Oh God—oh fuck—I’m cumming again—”
Her pussy contracted again, and another thick glob of cum was pushed out of her depths, sliding down onto Tom’s chin. He caught it with his tongue and swallowed, then sealed his mouth over her opening again, sucking and licking while she rode out the orgasm. More contractions, more clots of cum—thick, ropy strands that he swallowed one after another. His throat was coated with it, his belly full of another man’s semen.
Karen came a third time on his mouth, then a fourth. Each orgasm squeezed more of Warren’s load out of her, and Tom dutifully licked and swallowed every drop. Her pussy was finally starting to run clear—just her own juices now, tangy and sweet, mixed with the lingering taste of Warren’s cum.
“Again,” Karen whispered. “Make me cum again.”
Tom sucked her clit into his mouth and flicked it rapidly with his tongue. Karen’s back arched, her hands gripping the headboard, and she let out a high, keening moan as her fifth orgasm on his tongue hit her. Her pussy spasmed weakly—one last thick clot of cum emerged, denser than the others, and Tom caught it on his tongue, felt the weight of it, and swallowed.
“Enough,” Karen breathed finally, lifting herself off his face. “Enough. I can’t take anymore.”
She rolled off him and collapsed onto the pillow, her body flushed and trembling, her pussy red and tender but finally clean. Tom’s face was a mess—coated in her juices and Warren’s cum, his chin slick, his lips swollen. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and lay there, staring at the ceiling, the taste of semen heavy on his tongue.
His tiny dick was still hard. It had been hard the entire time, straining at its pathetic length, leaking a steady stream of pre-cum onto his stomach. He hadn’t touched it once.
Karen glanced at it and let out a small, exhausted laugh. “Still hard. God, Tom. You really are something.” She reached over and flicked it with her finger—lightly, almost playfully—and it bounced pathetically. “Little guy doesn’t know when to quit.”
She turned onto her side, away from him, and pulled the sheet up over her shoulder. The sheets were a disaster—soaked with sweat, juices, cum, the evidence of the evening’s activities. Neither of them cared.
“Goodnight, Tom,” Karen murmured, already half-asleep.
Tom lay there in the dark, his tiny dick still twitching, his belly full of Warren’s cum, his face still sticky with the taste of his wife’s well-fucked pussy. He could hear Karen’s breathing slow and deepen as she drifted off.
He thought about what had happened. About Warren’s cock. About Karen’s screams. About the nine orgasms she’d had on another man’s dick. About the cum he’d swallowed. About next week.
His tiny dick twitched one last time, dribbled a single drop of pre-cum onto his stomach, and finally, slowly, began to soften.
Tom closed his eyes and slept.
The End.
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