Camping With a Size Queen

He shook his head no and said, "It's gotta stop Paul. Please! I'm having these thoughts. I can't take it any more. I just can't!"

"Okay Bruce. Let me talk to Prissy. I'll see if I can work something out."

I cut down on the fucking to twice a week and sometimes only once. Bruce quit taking showers with me. He seemed sullen when we played golf. I tried a couple of times to talk to Prissy but we never talked seriously and the only time I got close she said something about how the girls going to college in the fall would make things easier on Bruce.

Finally the inevitable happened. I returned home one evening after a routine day and Liz met me as I came in.

"Hi honey," Liz said as I walked into the family room. "Let me get you a drink."

I kissed her on the cheek and she walked over to the bar to pour me my usual Macallan 12 on the rocks. What she handed me was a water glass full of booze with a couple of ice cubes floating on top.

"Jesus honey," I exclaimed. "There's a triple shot in here!"

"You're gonna need it all and more," Liz said, sitting down and picking up what looked like a long list from the coffee table.

"We need to talk."

I never looked forward to conversations that began with those four words.

"What about," I asked weakly.

She looked down at her list, then up at me.

"I had a long talk with Bruce a few days ago."

Well, I thought, it looks like my affair with Prissy is over. It was fun while it lasted. I guess making Bruce listen to me fuck his wife was more than he could take. I waited for her to continue, expecting the worst. She was very calm.

"After I talked to Bruce I had a nice long visit with George Schneider and he was most helpful. You owe him fifteen hundred dollars."

Oh shit, I thought. George Schneider was famous or perhaps I should say infamous as a divorce attorney. He was noted for settlements that literally raped an errant husband. I felt a warning tingle in my asshole. Get ready to bend over and grab your ankles I told myself. Liz continued talking in a very serious tone of voice.

"If it comes to a settlement I'll get the house, the Lexus, and" - she looked down at her list before continuing - "and over three-fourths of our portfolio plus support payments. And of course a restraining order preventing you from having any contact with the boys, on moral grounds."

She paused a moment and then looked at me sharply before continuing.

"In short, Darling, you'll be out on your ass and away from the twins you love and very close to broke. Your major expense will be continuing to pay the mortgage on this house, which will be all mine."

I opened my mouth to speak but realized there was nothing to say. She had me by the balls! That damn wimp Bruce had ratted me out! I didn't think he had the guts. Suddenly I got mad!

"And you'll be free to fuck any guy you like any time you want," I said, my voice tapering off helplessly even as I said it. Getting mad was not an option.

"The kind of guy I like is pretty hard to find," she said.

"Oh? And what kind of guy do you like?" I asked, trying to sound sarcastic, but I was obviously losing it.

She paused a moment before continuing. Then smiling she said, "Someone like you. Which is why I'm gonna teach you a lesson and then give you another chance. That is if you want it."

I just sat there in silence. What did she mean by that?

"So here's the deal," she said, looking down at her list. "You sleep in the guest bedroom. If you fuck that whore again you're history – and I got a private dick watching you, at your expense of course. If you fuck ANYBODY you're history."

She paused and looked back down at her list. Picking up a ruler from the coffee table she handed it to me and then continued.

"You told me once that when you were growing up you measured your peter every time you got a hard on. Without regular pussy you'll get a lot of opportunities to measure it again. Each night when it comes up you can measure your peter, just like you did in school, before you play with it. You won't get my pussy or any other pussy so your peter is gonna get real friendly with your fist."

She glared at me.

"You understand that?"

I looked at the floor thinking about all those nights playing with my peter.

"Answer me," she demanded.

"I understand," I replied sullenly.

"Look Paul," Liz continued in a more moderate tone. "You help a gal out and she crawls into your sleeping bag buck naked. Then she practically rapes you because she's a size queen and you got the biggest dick in Woods County. I can understand that and if you had come to me the next day and explained what happened I would have forgiven you. But you fucked that whore for six months! After your affair with that other whore three years ago I forgave you when you promised not to do it again. But you did it again!"

"So now there's no pussy for a year!" Liz said firmly.

A year, I thought. Jesus! She was silent for a moment in thought and then I saw anger in her face again.

"And when you finished fuckin that whore you came home and you fucked ME. You were ringing my bell like it was Easter Sunday. My favorite play-toy was doin double duty but I didn't suspect a thing. You were satisfying TWO horny women at the same time you bastard. You should have been a Mormon or a mullah!"

She took a deep breath and continued her tirade.

"Bruce said you made him listen to you fuck his wife. You're a damn pervert! He couldn't take that! He loves her. The poor guy got tears in his eyes when he told me about it. He said every time she screamed with an orgasm it just tore him up inside and you gave her a lot of orgasms you bastard! That horny bitch was popping off orgasms like a teenager on pot and begging you to fuck her and that poor wimp just had to sit downstairs and listen to his wife beg for it. How would you like to hear ME beg for it?"

"I've heard you beg for it," I said.

Liz almost lost it! She shouted, "I didn't mean beg YOU, I meant beg ... oh shit! You bastard! You knew what I meant."

"I meant ME walking up those stairs with some guy. But ... but ... shit! Bruce is a wimp. With you I wouldn't get past the second step. I'd be bent over your lap and that leather belt of yours would be painting red streaks across my naked ass. You bastard!"

She was different somehow and I was starting to feel a little better. I thought for a moment that she had almost started laughing. I think maybe she still loves me. But then she shook her head, got control of herself, and began questioning me.

"Bruce says Prissy doesn't have a gag reflex," Liz said in sullen anger. "She's been sucking you off hasn't she?"

I nodded and sat there silently.

"She's takin it back behind her tonsils where you like to pump it isn't she!"

I nodded again.

"The bitch! I gotta spray my throat to do that."

"Bruce says you been fuckin her two or three times a week."

I nodded thinking that if the recent reduction in fucking did not influence Bruce it would certainly have no effect on Liz.

"Bruce couldn't take that – what husband could? So he finally came to me and now it's no pussy for a year! That's one full year! Unless I can't wait that long of course. The only guy that can satisfy me is you. You're a bastard! I'm gonna keep telling myself that you're a bastard and try to make it through the whole year and maybe I will."

She paused to catch her breath and then spoke more softly.

"Look Paul, I know she's just a whore and she means nothing to you. I know that big dick of yours just keeps attracting whores and ... oh shit! I should have married a guy with a short dick!"

I sat there thinking. I was a lucky man to be married to Liz. I'd go without pussy for a while and pound my peter like a school kid. I deserved it! I really did. But in a few months she'd get horny and I'd get laid. I was sure of it - at least, ALMOST sure. Jesus I was lucky to have Liz! I didn't deserve her. I surely didn't! But it was wonderful to know that it wasn't my dick she was in love with – it was ME.

Meanwhile my boys were getting all the pussy they could handle. Poor Prissy. I wonder where that horny bitch will find another blue-veined monster. And then, thinking about Prissy liking her guys young and hairy and hung, I gave a fatherly chuckle as the answer suddenly popped into my head.