tagLoving WivesSize Does Matter

Size Does Matter

bylikegoodwine©

By Likegoodwinecopyrighted July 2011

Your votes and constructive comments are appreciated as they will help me grow.

Thanks to Blackstallion21 for his fine editing


*

Chapter 1

The last few months have been a real eyes opener for my wife and me. Yes, size does matter!

My name is Peter Smyth - with a y - and I am 37 years old. Up till two weeks ago, I thought that Maryanne and I had a very nice marriage. After 12 years of married bliss and three children, 10, 8 and 5 years old, our love life was a bit predictable but filled with a lot of love and affection.

We were still two good-looking adults although not fashion magazine material, that's for sure. I am a bit less than 6' tall and weight 190 lbs. I have a little padding around the waist, but nothing too obvious. Maryanne is 5'4" and weight 140 lbs., with the same extra-padding that goes with our somewhat sedentary lifestyle, our diet, and -- for her - giving birth to three kids.

And while we are on the subject, my penis is average in length (6") and width. So there is no reason my wife would find it impossible to deep throat me although she rarely did that in the last 10 years.

Maryanne has been a bit distant lately, constantly nagging at me for absolutely no reason, getting irate over the smallest things and being totally irresponsive in the bedroom. We had our share of dry spells in our marriage, but now it was worrying me. This is without mentioning the many cases of blue balls that I developed in the last month when my only relief was self-induced.

When confronted with the situation one evening, after the kids were in bed for the night, Maryanne denied at first that anything was wrong. But when I kept pushing her, she finally admitted that she was a bit concerned with a serious matter at work. When I offered to talk it over with her, as we often do when we are dissatisfied with our professional life, she simply brushed me off, saying that the issues would settle themselves in due time. I let it drop. In retrospect, I should have pushed harder, but it is now wishful thinking.

One Friday evening, Maryanne asked me if I would mind keeping an eye on the kids the next day, as she had to go to work for a few hours. That was a weird request. It happens once in a while that we have to work on Saturday and the other is always left in charge of the kids.

"No problem, Honey!" I answered. "Will you be back by lunch time?"

"No!" she said evasively. "As a matter of fact, I will be going to work in the afternoon, not the morning."

"Yeah, sure!" I said.

And the matter was dropped. I tried again later to entice her for a little cozy time in the bedroom but Maryanne was too tired.

We slept late the next morning, well as late as our 5 years old boy would allow. Shortly before noon, Maryanne went upstairs to get ready for work. When she came down, I was in for a surprise. Instead of coming in the kitchen were I was getting a little lunch ready for the kids, I heard her go straight for the front door.

"I am on my way, Honey. See you later!" she yelled, and I heard the door slammed shut. I looked by the kitchen window. By stretching a bit, it is possible to see the driveway. The sight that greeted me was astonishing. Normally, when we go to work on Saturday, we dress casual: running shoes, jeans, t-shirt, sweater... Maryanne was wearing one of her nice close fitting black dress that she keeps mostly for our nights out, and some black lacy hoses. What the Hell!

I tried to reach her on her cell but it must be turned off because each call went to voice-mail. And I was stuck home with the kids. Later, after feeding the kids and giving her time to drive to work, I phoned there.

"Sunrise Insurance, Sam Morgan speaking!"

Sam Morgan was the new office manager, coming from the head office three months ago. I never met him yet.

"Hi M. Morgan. I'm Peter Smyth. Would it be possible to speak to my wife, please?"

There was a silence for a few second on the line.

"Hum... There is no Mrs. Smyth working here. You must have the wrong number. Sorry!" he finally said before hanging up.

What the...! I dialed again.

"Sunrise Insurance, Sam Morgan speaking!"

"M. Morgan, It's Peter Smyth again! I know that you are new at the office, but I am trying to reach Maryanne, my wife. She's been working for Sunrise Insurance for the last 14 years."

"Ho! I'm sorry. No, Mrs. Blair is not in yet. I expect her any minutes now," was his simple answer, an answer that swept me off my chair. I said thanks and hung up.

I couldn't believe that Maryanne was going under her maiden name at work. What was the meaning of that? She has been Mrs. Maryanne Smyth for the last 12 years for Christ sake. I was about to phone back a third time at her work when a commotion erupted in the back yard. Kyle, our youngest, had made a fall and he was crying, holding up his hand that had taken the brunt of the fall. I took care of him, making sure it's was nothing serious, and he went back outside a few minutes later.

When I phoned again at work, there was no answer, the call going to their answering service. I kept phoning, with the same result. My mind was in turmoil. I wasn't able to shake the dark clouds that seemed to be gathering over my marriage to Maryanne.

I had plenty of hours to think back about the state of our married life. Maryanne's change of attitude toward me was at the forefront of it all. I had a feeling that she didn't love me anymore. She never said a word to that effect, but taking into account that she now goes under her maiden name, that she dressed extra sexy to go to work on a Saturday and that she isn't where she is supposed to be, I was sure that she was having an affair and that I was on the way out of her life.

I was crushed! My life with Maryanne and the kids was everything to me. Unlike some colleagues, my work came second in my life priorities; my wife and my kids always came first. But now I was facing the obvious fact that my marriage was crumbling all around me.

Yes, our marriage wasn't perfect, but I couldn't understand that she would betray us -- the kids and me - like that. Asking for a divorce is one thing I could understand. It would be painful, but I saw it happened to many couples over the years. However, going behind my back with some jock was downright hurtful and mean.

I couldn't believe she would do that. I could swear on my mom's grave that Maryanne still loved me. I had to keep my calm. There has to be some explanation and I would ask for it, that's a given. I just had to take care of the kids and wait.

By the time Maryanne made it back home, around 7 o'clock - no phone call to say that she would be late for supper - I was raving mad. Only the presence of our kids made me keep my anger in check when she came through the front door. One good look at her, no make-up left, her hair disheveled and without her hoses and it was obvious: she had just received a good fuck.

She stopped in her tracks when she looked at me and saw the obvious anger written all over my face.

I came to her and told her out of the kids' earshot: "After the kids are asleep, we will have a serious talk".

She didn't say a word, guilt covering her from head to toe, and she rushed upstairs. Minutes later, I heard the shower going. I went upstairs. The bathroom door was locked, but a coat hanger had it opened in seconds. Maryanne was in the shower and her clothing lay in a pile on the floor. Or what remained of her clothing. There was no bra - I don't even know if she was wearing one this morning -- no hoses, and no panties - I didn't know either if she was wearing panties this morning. No panties? I checked the dress again, and there it was, discoloring the blackness of the dress: cum that had dripped from her pussy, probably while she was driving home.

For the rest of the evening, there was a frosty silence between us. Even the kids sensed that something was wrong because they were also kind of subdued all evening. At 10PM -- "Come on Dad! It's Saturday!" - the kids were put to bed and Maryanne and me ended up alone in the living room.

I sat on the armchair while Maryanne was on the couch looking at me with sadness and guilt. Before I even uttered a word, she started crying.

"So?" I asked icily. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I don't know what you mean?" she mumbled.

"Oh, come on! You go to work on a Saturday wearing your nicest outfit, a bra, your panties and some panty hoses. You're not at work where you are suppose to be then you come back, no panty hose, no bra and no panties, dried semen all over your dress and you rush to take a shower," I growled. "You're behaving like a dirty slut in front of the kids and we are lucky that they are not older than they are. Why did you do that to me?"

"I'm sorry Peter!" she said listlessly, her head hanging low. "Everything got out of hand."

"For Christ sake, Maryanne!" I shouted. "Can't you at least acknowledge our 12 years together before going to fuck around? Couldn't you simply ask me for a divorce and helped me preserve some dignity instead of acting like a slut? Do you hate me that much?"

She raised her head at the 'D' word.

"No, no! It's not what you think Peter!" she said. "I don't want a divorce. I love you, and I love the kids and I don't want to lose you."

"You're kidding me!" I said. "You go get yourself fucked and you think that I won't divorce you? You think I will ever be able to hold you in my arms without the urge to crush your windpipe? You think I will ever be able to make love to you, knowing that you are fucking around on me? Are you nuts?"

"Please, Peter!" she answered. "Let me explain".

"Explain what?" I yelled jumping from my chair. "Explain what a good fuck you had? Explain how my failings pushed you in another man's arms? If we weren't so strapped for cash, I would be already checked in a motel room somewhere, you cheating bitch!"

"I was just curious Peter, that's..." she started to say.

"Oh yeah! That will ease my pain," was my sarcastic retort. "I was curious to see how it would be fucking other men behind your back. Maryanne, where you curious to see my reactions to your whoring?"

"No Peter! It wasn't supposed to happen like that. I..."

"You crazy, stupid bitch!" I yelled, making Maryanne recoil from my angry outburst. "How can you say that it wasn't supposed to happen like that when I saw you dress up slutty to go to work? It happened because you wanted it to happen."

"No, I mean that you were not supposed to find out..." she said.

"Oh sorry! That makes a world of difference. I wasn't supposed to find out." I said, feigning a soothing behavior I didn't feel. "Ouf! I am relieved that it is only my crazy imagination that put us in this situation. It should have been so easier for you to..." my voice was raising. "... Fuck around without me knowing."

"My goodness, what a mess!" I said dejected, sitting back on my chair. "Monday, I will stop to see a lawyer and start the divorce proceedings. In the meanwhile, let's try to make it easy on the kids. I will sleep on the couch and I will find a permanent place to stay..."

"Nooo!" cried Maryanne. "Not a divorce. I don't want a divorce. We... we have a good life together. I love you. I really love you. Don't do this to us, Peter. Don't do that to the kids."

"I never realized that you were such a stupid bitch, Maryanne. I did nothing. YOU DID! For a fling with whoever, you threw away 12 years of marriage. Your cheating broke this family, not me," I said, shaking my head, dumfounded by her behavior.

"No Peter, don't do that," she paid pleadingly. "It has nothing to do with my love for you and the kids. I was just curious about something, about... about..." She wasn't able to finish and put her face in her hands and started crying. "Oh my God!"

Well, I was also starting to be curious.

"About what?" I finally spat at her. I had to pay real good attention at what she said next. It was less than a whisper.

"About cock size..." she said. "The new manager had an affair with our secretary and she told us that he was big, huge, and... that she never felt so filled all her life. And I was real curious. It has nothing to do with my love for you"

"Oh well, that's great!" I said my voice filled with irony. "I feel so much better now that you had a chance to experiment it at least once in your life. You will now be able to compare my cock with your lover's cock, and that's sure a bonus for our marriage".

Maryanne look back up at me, hopeful.

"You mean it?" she asked. "You are not too mad anymore?"

"Don't move! Stay right where you are. I'll be back in a minute," I told her.

I got up and rushed upstairs. I came back a few minutes later with a briefcase filled with all I needed for a stay at a motel. Strap for cash or not, I didn't want to be around Maryanne anymore.

At the door, I turned toward Maryanne and told her: "I wish I could say 'Fuck you' but that's one thing I will never do with you ever again."

And I was gone!

***

(Maryanne)

I couldn't believe what a mess I had done of things. I had lost my husband, a person that I loved so much, and all that for a big cock. What an idiot!

Not long after M. Morgan came to work at the office, all the girls were smitten with him. He had some good looks for a middle age man and he exuded confidence. It wasn't long before Annie went to bed with him. Both were singles and it was sex with no string attached, a fact put on the table from the start.

Things would have stayed that way if Annie hadn't been bragging about their sex together. Over a cup of coffee one morning, when M. Morgan was away from the office, we learned everything about him. Annie was ecstatic about his cock. It was about 10" in length and almost 3" in diameter.

"I've never felt so filled my whole life," she said. She was an experienced woman at 42 years old and twice divorced. "That was the best sex ever!"

From then on, cock size and sexual pleasures were the main topics of conversation at lunches and coffee breaks. The more we talked about it, the more curious I felt about M. Morgan's cock. It was hard not to look at his crotch when he was around. Well, you couldn't really tell what package he was hiding, but it kept me thinking.

Don't get me wrong! I still love my husband and I have nothing to complain about our sex life, but I had a fixation for M. Morgan's cock. It is not love! I don't even call him by his first name, Sam. It was purely a stupid crush on a man's cock.

For two months I kept thinking about it. Even when making love to Peter, I kept thinking what it would feel if he had a monster cock. I am so ashamed of my behavior. That, more than the actual sex with M. Morgan, was my betrayal of Peter's unconditional love. I have to face the sad reality that I cut him off in the bedroom for a whole month before my sexual needs found their release in an afternoon sex romp with M. Morgan.

That fateful Saturday, I was scheduled for a simple overtime at work, knowing that I would be alone with M. Morgan. He had no inkling that I was determined to seduce him and see for myself what all the fuss was about. I must have been really obvious in my design toward him. As soon as he saw me in my sexy dress, he whistled.

"Dam, you look eatable in that dress Maryanne!" he said.

"To be honest M. Morgan, I wish you would think that I look fuckable in that dress", I answered, being more straightforward than I have been my whole life except with my husband.

M. Morgan got up, came toward me and took me in his arms. He did put a huge French kiss on me then said: "Maryanne, let's go to my place and fuck the afternoon away."

And that's what we did.

Sure, his cock was huge. And as Annie has said, it filled me like never before, his cock touching places I didn't know could be touch. But I was a bit put off by the fact that he didn't make me feel that good when we fucked. Where was the "best sex ever" Annie talked about?

He wasn't rough or anything, just not very delicate or attentive to my needs. If it wasn't my off the chart horniness and the fact that I was dripping of desire, he might have hurt me with his huge cock. He entered me without the benefit of much foreplay.

It took him not more than 10 minutes before he filled my pussy with his cream. I felt really filled but I didn't come. It couldn't be only that! It's impossible that I had just cheated on my husband for nothing.

For the next five hours I was adamant to experiment everything I could with his huge tool. I had to give him many blowjobs to raise him back to life and have him to fuck me to a few orgasms.

He finally got tired about my determination. Around 6 o'clock, he simply threw me out of his apartment. I realized on my way home that I forgot to pick up my bra, my panties and my hoses. And when I got home, my pussy still hurting, I lost everything.

And now, the kids are asleep and I lay alone in my bed. Peter has been gone for two weeks now. By the end of the first week, I had been served with divorce papers and told by Peter's attorney that he didn't wish to talk to me right now. However, we had to make arrangements for some visitation of the kids.

Everything was spiraling out of control.

I wanted Peter back with me so bad.

Chapter 2

(Peter)

The first month away from Maryanne has been awful. Not only her betrayal of my love had hurt me to the core, her appetite for a big cock had the effect to castrate me. When somebody rejects you for being inattentive, not enough loving or whatever other reasons, it causes pain, but nothing that can't be worked out. When you learn that the size of your cock is not up to their standards, it simply kills all your confidence in yourself.

I was constantly thinking about cock size. As a man of average length, I never gave a lot of attention to the size of my cock; I had determined in college that I was all right in that department. After that, I heard all the reassuring talks: "It's not the size but the way you use it." But now, it was at the forefront of all my thinking. Darn, I even did some Internet research about penis enlargement and it did scare the shit out of me.

On a basic level, I knew that Maryanne, having experienced a large cock, would never be able to avoid a comparison to mine. Why didn't she simply take a pair of scissors and chop off my dick? At least I would have bled to death! Not that constant pain to the soul I was now feeling.

At work, they soon noticed that I was beside myself. After much probing from Sonya, my assistant, I finally explained my marital situation and that I was in the process of a divorce with Maryanne. I was a bit weary about telling her that. As a matter of fact, she has always been a bit flirty with me, and I sometimes felt awkward about it. Now it was worst, as I didn't have anymore a band around my finger to keep a decent distance between us, a boundary that she always respected.

Sonya is 10 years my junior at 27 years old. She is quite an attractive young woman. I often looked at her very toned body, her long legs and a very nice and large pair of breasts, probably 36C. Her reaction when she learned that I was divorcing Maryanne was not one I expected.

"Wow! Let's celebrate!" she said, obviously overjoyed.

"What's there to celebrate?" I asked. "My marriage just crumbled around me after 12 years. It's not a cause for celebration, if you ask me."

"No that, idiot!" she said laughing. "I celebrate because you are back on the market, an extremely nice looking bachelor, working right here in the office."

And then she went back to her desk, her hips swaying from left to right while she cast me a devilish grin.

Damn! That girl just made me feel great. In about 30 seconds.

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