Some Background:
My wife is trying to get pregnant. After a few months of coming up empty, I have to naturally suspect my stubby. I have one. She says my size is completely normal, and it is larger than most sissy's that sport theirs on this forum, but it's not gargantua.
I know she's just wife-talking me.
For a few years now, my wife and I have succumbed to the "big cock" super size-me fuck dream. You know the dream. Somehow the wife happens upon a super sized cock, is enchanted by it, and after a long fight, finally gives in to its overwhelming sexual power. We started with published books, reading sections, getting ready, and then exploding into ecstatic netherworlds of cum drenched faintness.
Vodka makes her agree...she likes "big cocks."
I introduced her to large dildos. And though she is a sizzling redheaded siren, she is as sweet as a spring day. But you get that clit agitated, and the red demon comes out to play. She likes it big, and comes so hard with Mr. Big play pretty in her wet, milky cunt.
I too have fallen under the spell of big cock fever. If we met the right guy, I'd happily go down and put his soft one in my mouth to warm it up for my vixen. I can imagine him telling me to help him into her wet purse; my hands guiding his thickness over her wet bud, rubbing his cummy wonder over her trembling folds, only to be told to go to the liquor store to buy vodka to get my wife drunker when he wants to fuck deep.
Walking away, grabbing my keys, I'd hear her moan in needful glories as he explores her deeper.
And I'd try not to hurry on my way, no speeding ticket for me, raging boner, guiding me to the liquor store. Nope.
And That's our cum drenched fantasy.
Back to her.
She had a week now where I was denied sex. It wasn't mean, though I love mean, but rather a misplaced sort of business. I fantasized that she was getting it on the side, but that's not reality. Trust me.
So a week of no action has my gimp in a rage. I only wish it were in a plastic lock-a-way sleeve, the brassy lock bumping under my zipper, reminding me that I'm not big enough.
It was just such a fever that produced the following jack-off dream:
We are at a college party. There is a large room filled with strangers, but we were invited. In the middle of the room is a dais with a fish tank. And in the fist tank swims white ping pong balls with numbers on them.
Drawing our lot, we find that we are supposed to go to the room number printed on the ball. My redheaded milf departs from me, smiling.
I go my way and the dream fast forwards to a field of heather, perfumed night vistas, and dancing fireflys. My date is a brunette. Her nose is noble, red from crying, and her blue eyes seem to sparkle with the moonlight. We chat quietly of stuff I have no memory of. It's a brother to sister friendship.
I speak of my wife, and the brunette nods.
She smiles...I vanish.
I'm in a long, dark hallway, but there is a door at the end, yellow light crawling out from underneath it, staining the hallway with a glow. Approaching, I hear desperate moans. It's her. My wife. And she sounds....like she is cumming?
I open the door slowly, peeking in to see a bed in sparse room. The mattress is bare of covers, my wife straddles it like a *****, face down in sweat stained glory, ample butt in the air, her cunt filled with an enormous cock head attached to a thick, vein ribbed root.
Her date is athletic, judging from his rippling muscles. Shadows hide his face, and he is trying to budge his pulsating cock into my wife's glorious fuck hole.
"Ohhhhh," she moans, velvet red lips parting large for the syllables. Gripping the blue stripped edge of the mattress with long whorish fingernails, the reds grip and pull back the corners. She's in ecstatic agony, being mastered by a brute, a bull, a veritable titan of sexual male glory.
I am thankful that her shadowed eyes are closed, her long lashes fitting together in a blissful blink of pain and orgasm. Sweat stipples her forehead, and her long red hair hangs to one side like a Hollywood starlet from the 40s.
Her date grunts with dick-passion and pushes, opening the folds of her shivering rose another inch or so. I stare at the impossible root, know the veins course with fertile cum, know that wifey gave in to his one foot of sausage with ease. She was humbled by girth, size, and penis hunger.
Shutting the door, I slide down the wall, my sweating back prickling with jealously and passion. Just five feet away my wife is giving up her pussy to a giant of a man. How much cum will he pump in her? How big will it make her tummy? Is he so damned big that she'll feel him in her throat?
Waking up, my stubby stubborn cock calls to my left hand. I touch it, recalling the heat of the dream, wishing she was being splayed by her giant as I quietly coupled hand to nub. Jacking off never felt so good next to a hot mistress who likes it like a tramp.
But I don't cum.
I make myself wait.
Wait until I can come clean to her after a morning kiss, wait until I can tell her the glories I experienced in my cock raged bliss of a dream.
Epilogue
Cumming, with her finger in my butt, her eyes closed shut, I hurled out my sin of memory, never felt so damned good. "Wish I could see it for real," I mutter as I dump.
I know she wants it.
I just know she wants it bad.
-finis
My wife is trying to get pregnant. After a few months of coming up empty, I have to naturally suspect my stubby. I have one. She says my size is completely normal, and it is larger than most sissy's that sport theirs on this forum, but it's not gargantua.
I know she's just wife-talking me.
For a few years now, my wife and I have succumbed to the "big cock" super size-me fuck dream. You know the dream. Somehow the wife happens upon a super sized cock, is enchanted by it, and after a long fight, finally gives in to its overwhelming sexual power. We started with published books, reading sections, getting ready, and then exploding into ecstatic netherworlds of cum drenched faintness.
Vodka makes her agree...she likes "big cocks."
I introduced her to large dildos. And though she is a sizzling redheaded siren, she is as sweet as a spring day. But you get that clit agitated, and the red demon comes out to play. She likes it big, and comes so hard with Mr. Big play pretty in her wet, milky cunt.
I too have fallen under the spell of big cock fever. If we met the right guy, I'd happily go down and put his soft one in my mouth to warm it up for my vixen. I can imagine him telling me to help him into her wet purse; my hands guiding his thickness over her wet bud, rubbing his cummy wonder over her trembling folds, only to be told to go to the liquor store to buy vodka to get my wife drunker when he wants to fuck deep.
Walking away, grabbing my keys, I'd hear her moan in needful glories as he explores her deeper.
And I'd try not to hurry on my way, no speeding ticket for me, raging boner, guiding me to the liquor store. Nope.
And That's our cum drenched fantasy.
Back to her.
She had a week now where I was denied sex. It wasn't mean, though I love mean, but rather a misplaced sort of business. I fantasized that she was getting it on the side, but that's not reality. Trust me.
So a week of no action has my gimp in a rage. I only wish it were in a plastic lock-a-way sleeve, the brassy lock bumping under my zipper, reminding me that I'm not big enough.
It was just such a fever that produced the following jack-off dream:
We are at a college party. There is a large room filled with strangers, but we were invited. In the middle of the room is a dais with a fish tank. And in the fist tank swims white ping pong balls with numbers on them.
Drawing our lot, we find that we are supposed to go to the room number printed on the ball. My redheaded milf departs from me, smiling.
I go my way and the dream fast forwards to a field of heather, perfumed night vistas, and dancing fireflys. My date is a brunette. Her nose is noble, red from crying, and her blue eyes seem to sparkle with the moonlight. We chat quietly of stuff I have no memory of. It's a brother to sister friendship.
I speak of my wife, and the brunette nods.
She smiles...I vanish.
I'm in a long, dark hallway, but there is a door at the end, yellow light crawling out from underneath it, staining the hallway with a glow. Approaching, I hear desperate moans. It's her. My wife. And she sounds....like she is cumming?
I open the door slowly, peeking in to see a bed in sparse room. The mattress is bare of covers, my wife straddles it like a *****, face down in sweat stained glory, ample butt in the air, her cunt filled with an enormous cock head attached to a thick, vein ribbed root.
Her date is athletic, judging from his rippling muscles. Shadows hide his face, and he is trying to budge his pulsating cock into my wife's glorious fuck hole.
"Ohhhhh," she moans, velvet red lips parting large for the syllables. Gripping the blue stripped edge of the mattress with long whorish fingernails, the reds grip and pull back the corners. She's in ecstatic agony, being mastered by a brute, a bull, a veritable titan of sexual male glory.
I am thankful that her shadowed eyes are closed, her long lashes fitting together in a blissful blink of pain and orgasm. Sweat stipples her forehead, and her long red hair hangs to one side like a Hollywood starlet from the 40s.
Her date grunts with dick-passion and pushes, opening the folds of her shivering rose another inch or so. I stare at the impossible root, know the veins course with fertile cum, know that wifey gave in to his one foot of sausage with ease. She was humbled by girth, size, and penis hunger.
Shutting the door, I slide down the wall, my sweating back prickling with jealously and passion. Just five feet away my wife is giving up her pussy to a giant of a man. How much cum will he pump in her? How big will it make her tummy? Is he so damned big that she'll feel him in her throat?
Waking up, my stubby stubborn cock calls to my left hand. I touch it, recalling the heat of the dream, wishing she was being splayed by her giant as I quietly coupled hand to nub. Jacking off never felt so good next to a hot mistress who likes it like a tramp.
But I don't cum.
I make myself wait.
Wait until I can come clean to her after a morning kiss, wait until I can tell her the glories I experienced in my cock raged bliss of a dream.
Epilogue
Cumming, with her finger in my butt, her eyes closed shut, I hurled out my sin of memory, never felt so damned good. "Wish I could see it for real," I mutter as I dump.
I know she wants it.
I just know she wants it bad.
-finis
