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It's the damnedest thing. Somehow our experience sharing Trey has brought out our attraction towards each other as something more than friends. I don't know what to call what we are becoming, but it is not binary. I am still Trey's wife, and will always be. But somehow, in a way I can't yet quantify, I also belong to Kacy. And so does Trey. Seeing them kiss as we parted ways the other night gave me a shiver. The good kind.
For now, we still live in separate homes. Relationships are about more than just sex, after all, and the last thing we all need is to throw the odds and ends of our lives together into a heap before we've had a chance to see what exactly this is, and where its limits lie.
We set up a few rules. Trey can't fuck Kacy unless I'm present, or unless I give them permission. I haven't been ready to entertain that second possibility yet, but I don't want to dismiss the idea out of hand. Kacy is still free to see whom she pleases outside of our arrangement, although I have a suspicion that she won't. This is serious for her. We knew she was ready to settle down, but no one could have foreseen that this was the way that she would find that place to call home.
Oddly, Trey doesn't mind if Kacy and I screw each other without him. He probably gets off thinking about us fooling around behind his back. But in truth, it's not something that occurs to me. Much. Okay, yes it does. But I'm still mesmerized by the power of what we all accomplished together, and anything less feels like small potatoes in comparison. Mostly. I'll probably still do her, though.
Turning out the shop lights, I start up the stairs. We've scheduled a rematch for tomorrow, and my heart is aflutter. I've had Trey lick some calm into me a couple of times since, and I've done likewise for him. It's like we need each other's reassurance to cope with what's happening to us. Like our combined passion is too much for just two people. And maybe that's what we've finally realized.
Stepping into the living room, I see that my dear man has already cooked up some teriyaki chicken. I plop down at the table and dig in. After a few minutes, I notice him eyeing me.
"So I notice your birthday's coming up next week," he says, with ill-concealed mischief.
I nod, but play along. "That's because you're the perfect husband."
"Do you remember Steve Fitz?" he ventures.
Do I? Fitz is a hottie patottie. "From Sunmonster? Yeah, I've met him."
"You guys ever...?"
"No, no," I say, shaking my head and raising my eyebrows. "I would have remembered that for sure."
He grins, enjoying a private joke.
"What?" I ask.
"Well," he says with a sigh. "We had a few beers last night, and got a little lewd. Someone brought out the measuring tape..."
I freeze.
"Turns out he's exactly 3 ½ inches shorter than me."
I'm dead.
- COMMENTS
Anonymous4 months agoWhat a noble loving Sacrifice to risk her marraige to satisfy her husband and her best friend because of his extra length size. No good deed goes unpunished as turn about is fair play... freudenfreud.
luedonover 6 years agoThe female sexy bits are remarkably adaptive.
The vagina is quite adaptive, although the single most adaptive bit is the cervix. It lets semen in when it has to, it closes to keep a baby in when it has to, and then it stretches open wide enough to let the baby out when it has to. Absolutely astonishing. Then the vagina becomes the birth canal and the baby goes through there as well.
It's not comfortable, but it mostly works.
Then, after all that has happened, everything returns to normal. Remarkably normal. Cervix closes, vagina returns to normal. I can't speak for others who claim too large or too small, or too loose or too tight for various bits of the genitalia, but I do sometimes wonder whether size problems are more in the mind than between the legs.
As you say, Anonymous, maybe a brain transplant could be the real answer to size problems.
Lue
Anonymousover 6 years agoSome post menopausal women can't tolerate size. There might be a new market for smaller ones, perhaps steroid shrunken body builders? Can you imagine a well hung older husband being cucked by a tiny one because his wife can't tolerate the size? Then again if he ever wanted to get a taste he could probably deep mouth him. Oh, the possibilities! All seriousness aside, is the size of the patchcord that important compared to the connection to the other person? Maybe couples could get their brains transplanted into bodies with matching sized genitals.
