We Need to Talk, Darling

If you want graphic sex, then please move on with my blessing.

If you want a serious story, then I'm afraid you'll have to find it elsewhere.

If you want to be amused, then I do hope my little story helps you.

++++++++++++

I'd been married to Laura for nigh on fifteen years, and believe me my friends; I had no idea, not so much as an inkling. It wasn't a case of 'the husband's the last to know' or anything like that, but apparently at least one other person did, and that was Laura's best buddy Anne, who I used to think of as a friend of some sort.

"We need to talk darling," it started with as I was sitting there watching the football one fine Saturday afternoon, just last week. The Arsenal had just won their fourth league game in a row, so she knew I'd be in a pretty good mood. (Authors note: For those following the recent form of my beloved Arsenal, you will now realise that unfortunately this story is a work of pure fiction.)

"You know I love you Phillip, don't you?" She questioned me, after she'd got my attention, and after hearing that statement, then she really had my attention. What the hell was this all about? The 'we need to talk' bit normally meant I'd done something wrong, but the 'You know I love you' was another thing altogether. I guess my face must have shown my concern.

"It's nothing to worry about Phillip," Laura leapt in with before I could voice my doubts. "It's nothing you've done."

"Glad to hear that honey," I responded, just a tinge relieved, but still waiting for Brunhilda's axe to fall.

"It's not what you have done Phillip," She went on calmly, as if she was getting into a pre prepared speech. "It's more a case of what you haven't done."

"Oh," I mumbled, my mind quickly running through the list of my usual chores -- gardening, washing the cars, repairing the roof and those sort of things. I wondered which one I hadn't preformed to Madam's liking.

"I've been speaking to Anne," my wife continued, looking at me with what looked a bit too close to pity for my liking. "Well, Anne and a couple of the other girls actually, and they all agree."

"Agree what Laura?"

"They all agree that .... Well ..... Oh this is so difficult Phillip. I'm not sure where to start."

"How about at the beginning Laura," I proposed, resigning myself to the inevitable.

"Yes, good idea darling," she took up the challenge. "Well you know what women are like when they get together Phillip, don't you? You know, what they talk about when there are no men around."

"Hardly," I grunted in mounting frustration. "I've never had the benefit of being there when there are no men around, have I?"

"No of course not honey. How silly of me," she giggled at me nervously. "Well, we talk about all sorts of things of course."

"But the point you're trying to make is?"

She took a big breath, which did wonders for her big tits by the way, let out a long sigh, and launched into it.

"We talk about sex honey," she informed me at last. "Sex and men and things."

"Sex and men and things?" I repeated, not exactly surprised, but still wondering what the hell this was leading up to.

"Yes Phillip. We discuss what sort of things we like and what we don't like. We all brag about what our husbands are good at. You know ----- At sex and things."

"Carry on dear," I encouraged her, not sure that I'd done the right thing. My sex life with Laura wasn't exactly the sort of thing you'd write a story about, but it wasn't that bad, all things considered. It never had been exceptional, but I wasn't overly unhappy about it. Even so, I wasn't at all sure that I liked the idea of it being discussed with a group of her friends, all of whom knew me quite well.

"Yes," she went on more confidently. "Did you know that Anne's husband Tom has a ten inch penis?"

"Can't say as I did," I answered, never having been in a communal shower with him, and that not being exactly the sort of question you ask a guy over a pint, is it?

"And Sally's husband has one the size of a coke can, and Delia's new boyfriend can go five or six times a night! Then there's John. You know John, Anthea's hubby. Well apparently his thingy is nearly as long as Tom's, but has this sort of curve in it. And Celine's husband has ...."

"Very impressive Laura," I butted in before she continued with her diatribe. She was getting far too enthusiastic for my liking. "It sounds as if all your pals are married to super studs. What do you tell them about me?"

"What do you mean?" She asked nervously. This simply wasn't looking good.

"Have you told them about my twelve inch monster Laura?"

"But you haven't got a twelve inch monster Phillip," she shot back at me in surprise. "You've only got .... Well that is, your penis is only ...... Well it's hardly twelve inches long, is it honey?"

She had the cheek to look sad! The silly cow stood there looking sadly down at me.

"Laura dear," I calmly and quietly started to inform her. "Most information seems to suggest that the average length is around six inches, and I hope you'll agree that I measure up reasonable well to that standard."

"Well ..." Laura replied uncertainly. "According to what my friends tell me, darling, six inches is hardly anything you'd want to talk too much about."

"And you believe them?" I questioned her. "You really believe what they tell you about their husbands?"

"Why would they lie? Why would Anne and the others make up stories like that?"

"So what do you tell them about me honey?" I asked again, not for the first time surprised at my wife's gullibility. Ok, so some of it might be true --- but all of it? I somehow doubted it.

"I try to avoid talking about your penis, honey," Laura told me, intent as usual to avoid using the word 'cock'. "I tell them how loving you are, and how nice is it to cuddle up to you and how helpful you are around the house. I'm sorry darling, but I don't want to embarrass myself."

"So you embarrass me instead Laura," I growled, suddenly getting angrier, and with good reason.

"How's that Phillip?" She demanded, also looking aggrieved. "I don't mention your .... Well you know, your thing. How would they know how little it is?"

"It's not little for fuck sake," I shouted at her. "It's normal, but now that you've refused to discuss it with them, they'll all assume that I'm a pencil dick, won't they?"

"I hadn't really thought about that darling," my stupid wife confessed, a frown on her face. "I guess I'd better tell them the truth then."

"You won't tell them anything!" I screamed at her, loosing my rag somewhat.

"Make your mind up Phillip," Laura replied haughtily. "First you want me tell them how little it is, and then you don't."

"It isn't little you stupid woman."

"If it isn't little, then why are you getting so upset about it Phillip?" She temporarily stumped me with.

We glared at one another, almost daring each other to set the ball rolling again, me wondering why on earth I'd ever married such a moron. Then I glanced down at them huge tits again, and I remembered why, but was very doubtful whether it had been worth it. Eventually I won the stand off, and Laura started off again.

Some victory that turned out to be.

"Anyway Phillip dear, that's not what I actually wanted to talk to you about. I guess it's connected but something more personal.

"What's that?" I demanded, wondering what the hell could be more personal than the size of my dick.

"I know it's not your fault darling, and I don't blame you because I know you can't help it, but I want what all my friends get at least once in my life."

Now I didn't actually explode, but Laura took a step back when she saw my angry reaction. I opened my mouth several times before I managed to get the right words out. I imagine even, that my face went somewhat red.

"You want a bigger dick?" I screamed at her. "You expect me to agree to ....."

"No silly," Laura interrupted me. "I don't really mind that your penis is so small honey, it's just that I want ..... I'm not sure how to put it really. I want, and Anne agrees with me, I want one just the once, to see what it's like."

"A bigger dick?" I repeated, beside myself with anger and not a little humiliation. How the hell could have my wife ever have discussed this with her friends? How would I ever face them again? Jeeeeesus! Wives talk to husbands, well most of them do ---- How would I ever face their husbands again. It looked like I wouldn't be going down the pub for a pint again, anytime soon.

"No Phillip, not a bigger thingy. At least maybe not darling; all I want is an orgasm."

"What?"

"An orgasm honey," she repeated to my dismay. "A proper one like Anne and my friends have all the time."

"But you have orgasms," I gasped out, completely taken by surprise. "You have them all the time."

"But not like Anne and the girls do Phillip," she explained to me as if instructing a child how to hold a knife and fork. "Not with screaming and thrashing about and things. Besides, quite often, I fake it."

"You fake it?" I blurted out, almost lost for words.

"Not all the time darling," she replied, smiling at me sympathetically. "Only when it gets boring and I want you to finish."

Oh my God!

-------------------------

We argued for the next half hour as you can imagine. Fifteen years married and only now did she tell me that I didn't satisfy her. How's that for a kick in the goolies, I ask you? I knew the woman wasn't the brightest apple in the barrel when I'd married her, but we got on well and them tits and them ridiculously long legs just won me over. Christ the woman could even cook better than my mum could.

"Well I'm going to find out this evening whether you like it or not Phillip," Laura regally carried on when her other arguments didn't persuade me. "I've got a date, and I expect to be home late."

"A date?"

"Yes a date with a man. It was Anne's suggestion."

"You are not going out on a date with some other man," I declared sternly. "Over my dead body."

"I am to! I owe it to myself. I need to rediscover myself," Laura responded. "But I do still love you darling, I promise. This won't make any difference to us. Delia's away for the weekend, so I'm borrowing her boyfriend, Tom. You know, the one that can get it up five or six times a night."

"You are not leaving this house," I insisted.

"How are you going to stop me?" Laura pointed out. "If I don't go tonight, then I'll go tomorrow when you're out at work."

"You can't do this to me Laura," I pleaded.

"If you had a full sized penis darling, then I wouldn't have to," my supportive loving wife hit me with.

"Then I'm off down the bloody pub to get drunk," I screamed at her in rage. I almost didn't care anymore whether she did or she didn't, as I couldn't see our marriage lasting an awful lot longer. "You fuck that bastard tonight Laura, and I'll go out and find someone myself."

"Oh come on Phillip," my wife smirked at me with a smug grin, looking down at my crotch area. "You really think you're going to find a woman that easily with what you're sporting down there?"

I glared at her, unable to answer. My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"It's not as if I'm going to cut you off Phillip. Better you stay in and watch the TV honey," she dismissed me with. "I might be gone by the time you get back, so don't wait up for me."

---------------------

The pub was terrible, so I didn't get drunk, not that getting pissed would have helped anyway. When I got there, none of the other husbands were there fortunately, but there were a few friends of friends as it were. I supped my pint imagining that they were all talking about me. Me and my tiny dick ---- Except that it wasn't. Honestly --- It wasn't exactly exceptional, but it really wasn't tiny.

Every time someone laughed, I cringed inside, sure that it was me that they were taking the mick out of. Before long I'd simply had enough and left. Must have been in a bad way, as I didn't even finish my pint.

I wondered around the streets for half an hour or so, and then decided that I was being stupid. I'd go home and put my foot down! Lock the stupid bloody woman up if I had to. Ok, she might be a bit thick, but she was my wife and was still really very pretty. Besides ---- I'd really miss her cooking!

Too late though!

Yes, I was too late, and when I got back around seven o'clock, my stupid wife had already gone out.

All the note she'd left said was, "Gone out!" Well, that didn't help much. I didn't know where she'd gone to, but I knew what she'd gone out to do.

Damn it. Why does life have to be so difficult?

-------------------

I don't suppose I'd been in for half an hour, and had just finished the rather delicious Coq au Vin that she'd left me, when the doorbell rang.

Ding Dong it went, ding dong!

Of all the people I might have expected to find standing there when I opened the door, Delia certainly wasn't one of them.

"Where is the silly cow?" Delia demanded as she brushed past me. "That idiot Anne has just told me what she's set Laura up to do tonight."

"Too late Delia," I told her. "She's already left. Weren't you supposed to be away for the week-end or something?"

"Cancelled," she mumbled absently, checking in the kitchen to make sure Laura wasn't there. "I got back and found out what the pair of them were planning and came straight round to put a stop to it."

"Too late," I repeated, not too upset to notice what a cracking piece of crumpet Delia was. She was three or four years younger than Laura, with a cute face and an even cuter body. Not such big tits as my Laura, but it was certainly all well put together and in the right places.

"I'm surprised at you Phillip," she started on at me. "How you could let Laura get away with cuckolding you. We all know you're not very well endowed down there, but even so!"

"Now don't you bloody well start," I responded. "I don't know what rubbish Laura's been spouting, but there's nothing at all wrong with my wedding tackle."

"No need to be embarrassed Phillip," Delia sighed sympathetically. "I know it must be difficult for you with only a little ...... well, that is ..... Eh .... Well you know what I'm talking about. It's not your fault."

"There's nothing wrong with it," I nigh on cried out. "What the hell has she told you?"

"Laura won't talk about it Phillip. She keeps avoiding the subject and tells us what a good husband you are in other ways. She does love you, even if your todger isn't big enough to satisfy her."

"It is big enough," I cried out in exasperation.

Delia stood there looking at me sadly for a few moments while I seethed. Eventually a small smile took over her face, and she took a step towards me.

"Let me see it then Phillip."

"What! Pardon!" It took me by shock and I stepped back a pace or two.

"Show it to me," she rephrased her demand. "Come on Phillip, get it out and show me what you've got. I promise not to laugh or anything however small it is."

"I will not," I resisted.

"Oh come on Phillip, don't be shy, Delia giggled, as she advanced on me, following me across the room as I backed off. "Get it out or I'll come and get it."

I backed up, but she cornered me against the wall, and I fought her off for all I was worth. I mean to say, she was a slim five foot four or thereabouts, while I was only six foot two. It simply wasn't a fair fight, but I managed to hold her off for a good minute or so before she overwhelmed me.

"Come on, don't be shy," Delia whispered as she undid my flies.

"Get off me," I objected, as I squeezed her shoulders gently to try to deter her.

"Oh my!" She let out as she reached in to grab my wotsit.

"Stop it," I hissed, as I slipped one of my hands down the front of her blouse to steady myself.

"Oh my God Phillip," Delia gasped out as she pulled my growing manhood out to inspect. "What on earth is your wife on about? There's not a lot wrong with this specimen."

"Oh by Golly," she laughed a few moments later. "It's getting even bigger! Dammit Phillip, your dick must be at least seven inches long."

"Well actually ......." I started to correct her, but stopped myself in time. It was a lot nearer six inches than seven the last time I'd measured it, but who was I to argue with a beautiful woman who had me by the goolies?

"What is Laura complaining about Phillip?" Delia demanded breathlessly as she began to gently stroke my eager manhood; licking her lips as she did so. "It seems to work Ok as far as I can see. Don't you have any staying power or something? Do you cum too quickly?"

"Never had any complaints about that," I managed to grunt as her ministrations began to take their toll on my concentration. " But I doubt if I can get it up five or six times a night like your Tom can."

"Five or six times?" Delia giggled in amusement. "Who told you that?"

"Laura did Delia. It's what you told her and the other girls, wasn't it?"

"And she believed me?" Delia squealed mirthfully, absently giving my still hard passion stick an extra hard squeeze. "That was just talk, to keep up with the other girl's tales."

"So he can't get it up five or six times then?" I asked, trying to ignore the fact that she was now using both her hands on my hard lance.

"No way Phillip," Delia laughed. "Not unless you count pre-cum, a couple of pre-ejaculations and a couple of pathetic squirts, that is. Even then he has a job to last more than a minute or so."

"Oh dear!" I grinned back at her. "It sounds as if Laura is in for a big disappointment."

"Especially if she likes to suck cock," the remarkable woman continued. "I only have to get my lips anywhere near his and he shoots off."

"Really."

"Yes," she confirmed. "It's all most disappointing."

"Not for Laura it won't be," I remarked sadly. "She thinks it's dirty and won't do it."

"Really?"

"Absolutely!"

"What about you?" Delia demanded, giving me a sly grin. "Do you like it?"

"Been so long," I pointed out honestly. "But I certainly used to."

"Me to," she responded wistfully, and the pair of us sat there in silence for a few moments, Delia, bless her, staring wishfully at my erect stick of rock, licking her lips as she thought what to do.

"Do you think I could ....." She ventured hesitantly.

"You mean you want to ....." I replied carefully, breaking off, for fear of having misunderstood her intentions.

"Well this thing feels nice in my hand Phillip," Delia whispered. "But I was sort of wondering what it what feel like in my .... Well in my ...."

"Mouth?" I helped her out with, realising the delicacy of the situation.

"Exactly Phillip," she gushed back at me, glancing briefly up at me before giving her full concentration back to the rigid joystick that she was waggling. "Would you mind terribly?"

"Not at all Delia," I croaked. "Feel free. Be my guest."

"You're sure?" She asked, sinking her head down slowly to my nether regions.

"Never surer," I assured her. "Oh blimey ...... Oh shit ..... Oh oh oh for Christ's sake that's wonderful. Don't stop ----- Ooooooooh!"

-------------------

OK, so I really can't get it up five or six times a night, but with a mouth like Delia's, I was soon hard for the second time, and we'd hardly got going.

"Are we going to waste this down here Phillip," Delia questioned me seriously, having removed her lips from around my pole of exquisite pleasure, and examining it intently. "How about we take this to the bedroom?"

"Lead on," I commanded, and found myself being half dragged up the stairs by my six (or was it really seven) inch nail, which Delia had taken a death grip on.

Now then!

An inbuilt sense of common decency prevents me from describing in detail what took place in my bedroom during the next hour or two. But suffice to say that there was a measurable degree of copulation that occurred.