Dilated Depths: Luke's Journey

Once the last drop had fallen, I turned to Luke and voiced my appreciation for his tiny manhood and practically invisible balls. They made me feel empowered, like a giantess displaying her prized possession. I didn't need his toy. I didn't yearn for the feeling of another penis inside me, even though I could easily have it. What I craved was the profound absence of sensation his manhood offered when inside me. I needed him to understand that from this point onwards, I would ceaselessly remind him of how much I loved his tiny, barely-there package, whether we were in private or public.

His response was instant, "I'm looking forward to it."

Epilogue

During my freshman year of college, Luke and I began dating, and our relationship persisted through graduation and even a year beyond. We shared a deep love, and for nearly five years, we remained faithful to one another.

The girls in my sorority were extraordinarily supportive. They never questioned my choices nor did they tempt me with the idea of being with other students. Despite occasional jokes suggesting that I was missing out on part of the college experience, I was entirely content with Luke.

Our relationship was one-of-a-kind.

Throughout our time together, I chose not to shave my bikini area or armpits. However, I did maintain the smoothness of my legs, and to the surprise of those who saw me in a bikini, I shaved my belly just down to where my pubic hair began. It was not uncommon for people to stare as I walked by the pool, beach, or any public place where I wore a swimsuit. The sight of the hair peeping out from the sides and top of my bikini bottoms drew curious looks. Strands could also be seen protruding from the back of my thong, trailing from the crease of my bottom. I kept my legs smooth, eyebrows well-maintained, and any hint of a mustache was swiftly dealt with.

In essence, I had to maintain a certain level of professionalism. During my summer internships on Capitol Hill, I often wore business suits. Sometimes these outfits would reveal a bit of my belly when I reached up. I didn't want constituents or colleagues to know that beneath my professional attire, I sported a full bush.

Our intimate life was exceptional. Luke never expressed any displeasure with my occasional need for stretching. Often, our sexual encounters were reminiscent of the early days of our relationship. Luke's skill ensured that I reached climax almost every time. However, about once a week, I sought a deeper exploration, pushing my stretching limits. After a year, I'd become so comfortable with this that I could open almost four inches wide. When I shared this with my friends, Sam, Rebecca, and Jackie, they were astounded. Sam tried it once and confessed to being overcome with pain at about two inches. For me, however, the pain was a stepping stone to my goal.

Luke and I cherished our intimate moments post-stretching sessions. I barely registered anything except the pressure of his hips colliding against my hands and wrists, or the occasional brush against my walls as he moved.

And he always climaxed. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but he always managed in two or three quick spurts. Our unique connection, our shared experiences, and our openness were the perfect blend for us.

During one of Luke's trips to DC, I proposed an idea. I suggested tidying up his below-the-belt hair that, over the years, had grown somewhat wild. The unruliness of the hair often concealed his private area. The head was barely visible, nestled within a thicket of light brown, nearly blonde but coarse hair. His testicles, no longer hanging as they used to, were hidden within the overgrown locks.

He agreed. That evening, in the comfort of the apartment he rented for me, I led him to the upscale bathroom. Standing bare on a towel, I began tending to the forested area around his manhood. Hair cascaded onto the towel with each trimmer pass. Despite using a medium setting, the trimmer could only manage about half of the area.

Switching to the lowest setting, I was cautious not to nick him. As I reduced the hair to its shortest length, an unusual thought crossed my mind. "What if I removed all of it? His pubic area, his chest, his thighs - everything. Intriguing."

Gently, I managed the hair on his testicles, which ended up looking quite peculiar. This was the first time I had scrutinized it so closely.

"Stay here," I instructed him.

"I'm not going anywhere. But, Kai, can I at least have a towel? I'm freezing!"

"Sure. Actually, why not start the shower and get in? I'll join you in a moment."

He complied.

As I discarded my evening dress, sans underwear, an unfamiliar excitement coursed through me - a mix of power and apprehension.

Joining Luke in the shower, armed with a razor and shaving cream, I found him understandably puzzled.

"What's that for?" Luke questioned.

"You'll see."

I smoothed the shaving cream over his now-trimmed area, and playfully swiped at the hair just above his manhood with the razor.

"Kaili, jeez!" Luke cried out.

"Oh no," I pretended to be upset, "Now I have to clean up the whole area."

Not waiting for any objection, I covered his lower abdomen, up to his neck, and his thighs with the cream.

Despite looking terrified, he remained still.

He was the picture of obedience the entire time I shaved him completely.

"Turn around and rinse off," I instructed.

He did. "Now turn around and let me see."

He complied.

There it was, his erection pointing directly at me. Now fully visible without the surrounding hair, it was rather amusing. The sense of power returned, stronger this time. I leaned forward and took him entirely in my mouth, but not deep enough to reach my throat, and decided to bring his newly shaved balls in as well.

When I woke up the next morning, there was an odd knot in my stomach. The night before had been incredible. Luke and I had spent the night in each other's arms, dreamily planning our future together, even tossing around the idea of sharing a home once my current lease - which he generously took care of - came to an end.

But as the morning light trickled in, a pang of uncertainty began to cloud my sunny thoughts of our life together.

Luke, freshly shaven and looking noticeably different, had left an impression that was hard to shake. Did I push too far? Did my curiosity threaten our perfect little world?

This unsettling feeling of guilt made me feel like I'd let him down in some way.

Gingerly, I peeled back the sheets from his sleeping form beside me. As I gazed at his now hairless self, I realized that the attraction was strangely missing.

Replacing the covers gently, I slipped out of bed and headed for a quick shower. When I came out, Luke was still fast asleep.

I left him a note, "Luke, I needed some fresh air. Back soon."

I headed to our favorite local coffee shop, settling into my regular corner. Not long after, a stranger walked in. He was taller than Luke, with mysterious dark features and a softer physique. He was casually chic, in jeans, a stylish button-down, and loafers. He looked around Luke's age, which meant he was slightly older than me.

He asked if he could sit at my table.

"I'm just about to go," I replied, misunderstanding his intention.

"I meant, could I join *you* for coffee. I'm Gareth," he clarified.

"Oh, I see. I'm Kaili."

Our conversation flowed naturally, lasting much longer than I'd anticipated - almost an hour.

Returning to the apartment, I found Luke awake and busy in the kitchen making breakfast.

Entering the kitchen, I shared with Luke about my encounter with Gareth, how I felt an intriguing spark with him. I sensed Gareth could become a significant chapter in my life.

Luke's face went ashen, the dishtowel slipping from his grasp. "I...I don't understand," he managed to utter.

I tried to explain that I was yearning for a change, that my infatuation with him had faded. Maybe I could explore this new spark with Gareth.

What ensued was the kind of emotional turmoil that breakups typically entail.

Gareth and I hit it off quite smoothly and spent a blissful year together. However, our relationship eventually took a turn for the worse. Gareth was physically quite different from Luke, more...substantial.

While with Gareth, I decided to shed my old habits from the Luke era, like maintaining my pubic and underarm hair. It was a symbolic way of severing ties with the past. During my time with Gareth, I stayed fully shaven and adopted Kegel exercises, a change that Gareth found quite thrilling given his larger size. His touches were much more profound, leaving a lasting impression.

Over time, I completely cut off all contact with Luke. Our paths crossed occasionally at work events in DC, but we never shared more than a curt nod. What was left to say, after all?

After Gareth and I parted ways, I moved to Colorado to start anew. I got married, adopted a furry companion, and bought a house. My red-headed husband and I enjoy what you'd call standard carnal pleasures. We keep our pasts tucked away safely - in the past.

Sometimes, during the throes of passion with my husband, I find myself reminiscing about Luke. A part of me yearns for that unique connection we had - the way Luke used to fill me up perfectly, his smaller size creating a peculiar kind of intimacy. But I know that what Luke and I had was singular, a pairing that's irreplaceable.

Epilogue and Conclusion

Several years after parting ways with Luke, an unexpected text from Sam, an old college buddy, lit up my phone. She had some news about Luke and Jackie, another friend from our college days. Sam dropped a bombshell: Jackie and Luke were a couple now, picking up where he and I had left off. They even continued the intimate rituals that he and I had once shared, with a few tweaks.

Unlike me, Jackie hadn't altered her body hair. She didn't see herself in the dominant role as I once did, but she savored the profound sensation of stretching herself to her limits. So, she welcomed our unusual intimate ritual, keeping herself wide open for Luke's tender dance within her.

And then came the real shocker: Jackie had opted for a cosmetic surgery to permanently enlarge her vaginal width. When Jackie revealed her altered self to Sam, our friend was astounded by the sheer magnitude of the opening. It was there, without any effort of stretching on Jackie's part. From what Sam shared, both Luke and Jackie were thrilled with the change.

Intrigued, I found myself scrolling through Luke's social media feed. His posts were punctuated with photos of him and Jackie, their faces aglow with joy and satisfaction. A surge of relief washed over me, seeing that Luke had found someone who accepted him as he was and embraced our peculiar intimate rituals.

When I asked Sam about her in-depth knowledge of their intimacy, she said Jackie was an open book. Jackie had brazenly asked in their group chat if anyone knew a good gynecologist who could carry out the procedure she sought. Jackie was so forthcoming, she even shared explicit details about the operation and its aftermath. Her objective was clear: to bypass the need for stretching, to better feel Luke's soft, gentle entrance.

I won't deny that my chat with Sam stirred something within me. A twinge of arousal pulsed through me, a subconscious response to those memories, and a familiar moist warmth stirred. But as I lay next to my husband, texting Sam from our snug home in Colorado, a deep sense of peace quelled the flicker of desire. My past was no longer a buried secret but a tale to be shared, an essential part of my journey that added depth to the happiness I now felt. The woman I was now didn't exist despite my past, but because of it. My unique experiences had shaped me, paving the way to my present -- a life filled with love, acceptance, and the liberating comfort of unapologetically being myself.