The Size-Queen’s Gambit

At the time -- It was the hottest night of both of our lives. We even made an amazingly hot video of it, which, whenever we watched it, always led to the best sex we've ever had together. Watching the "Mitch Tape" video of her masterfully sucking cock and listening to the sounds she made "The Night Baseball Boy's Bat Went Balls Deep in Vee" (as it was later dubbed) still drives me crazy, and she knows it, so I guess it was also a gift for me. And though there was never an actual repeat performance, we often talked about doing it again, especially whenever we were out of town without the kids. Anyway -- Back to her email:

// relink e-mail (HTML)

I don't know when we lost that excitement. Maybe me becoming a soccer-mom or something else with the kids. So I tried to recharge us last month when we spent that weekend in the Berkshires. Remember that lifeguard whose cock and balls were so obvious in his tight red trunks that it made us laugh? We even "kidded" all afternoon about me seducing him into making another "Mitch tape" with us in our room that night as my 40^th birthday present?

I may have played a bit coy to the idea, but you knew I was creaming my panties just thinking about how delicious his huge young package would probably be -- especially with you there to video it for us to fool around to later. And I was sure you were onboard. But of course, instead you and I fought that night, about you-and-you-know-who. You ended up leaving, all kinds of pissed off, for whereabouts unknown. So I went down to the hotel bar to drink, figuring you'd meet me there eventually.

Well, after about my 3^rd or 4^th Pinot someone said "weren't you the MILF laughing at my crotch by the pool today?" What a line -- especially from someone probably young enough to be my son.

Anyway -- Small talk and more wine led to me telling him what you and I had kidded about -- you know how Pinot hits me. "I'm getting hard just thinking about it," he smiled. Then he gently took my hand and proved his point. This kid's mind apparently worked much like mine. So does his libido.

So I brought Artie up to our room, hoping to surprise you like you surprised me at the Plaza. But you weren't there. I called your cell, and got your voice mail.

"I have a surprise for you up in our room. Hurry before it melts."

Like you would say -- I can be as clever as the next gal when I'm horny.

Anyway, Artie and I sat on the bed, drinking wine, talking, laughing, touching, flirting, and waiting for you. Well, we drank and we talked for a while (the kid was like 20, how much did we really have to talk about?) but you didn't show. I found out that he actually lives not far from us, goes to BU, and lifeguards up there weekends in the summer. We joked about how much his dick shows through his scrawny hotel suit and that moved the conversation back to the cinematic subject at hand, so to speak.

"It's very photogenic," he bragged, breaking an awkward silence and clumsily tugging at his fly.

"Slow down dude. Before you audition for me, let me grab some rubbers."

"Regulars?"

"Not ticklers, no, regular. This isn't Mardi-Gras," I joked.

"I mean regular size? They won't fit, they'll tear -- I need Magnums," he spoke as though ashamed of his super-sized-schwanze.

I smiled because I always thought Magnums a macho myth, then looked down and got a peek at the mythbuster still expanding beneath his pants leg.

"I have a whole box in my room. But what about your husband?"

As I reached for his zipper and leaned to kiss his neck, I smiled and whispered, "You kidding? I think he's gonna absolutely love this when he gets back." As I slowly pulled his thick cock out, my touch, combined with my tongue on his neck, sprung it quickly into half-boner mode, where it already stood a magnificent 8 or 9 inches tall.

"It gets bigger," he bragged, noticing my wide-eyed surprise watching it waver back and forth with my hand around the hilt.

I remember saying something like: "I'll get the camera -- you get the rubbers. We can shoot some casting-couch foreplay until Mike gets back"

But you never DID get back that night. In fact, you showed up the next morning obviously hungover with some lame excuse about sleeping in the car.

I was pissed -- REAL pissed. You must know where I think you went. I probably wouldn't have fucked him if I'd known you weren't coming (PTP), I really can't say for sure. After all -- You DID okay it, kinda, and his beautiful cock was literally irresistible. I'd never seen one that big and thick, let alone made one my toy. Looking at it made me wet and want to touch it. Touching it made me shiver and want to hold it. Holding and squeezing it made me want to lick and kiss it. Licking and kissing it made it grow and throb in my mouth, which made me want to feel it inside me. And feeling it inside me (especially when it tickled places deep inside where no one had ever reached before (Don't be mad-- it's kinda like Star Trek 😊) made me lose my mind..

I didn't recite that "Ode to a Big Dick" to piss you off -- I want you know what we're up against.

They say big tits don't make chicks stupid, they actually make men stupid, and they're right. And it seems big cocks do the same to women, and not just THIS woman.

Anyway, we fucked every which way from Sunday until Artie left around 6 to get ready for his shift. By then I was screwed dizzy: I never knew there were so many amazing things you can only do with a super-hung guy, and here was this kid teaching me. He's just turning 21 (yes, I ID'd him ha ha) but it's obvious he's already used to dominating women with his cock.

I swear, Mike - I took those pictures and videos on my phone, so I could control who saw them. I even made him give me his phone, which I dropped into my bag. I expecting you to walk in at any moment and take even better ones of us in a 3-way. I kept thinking how amazing it would be to have Artie's cock sliding slowly in and out of my muff while I gave you the BJ of your life in sync with his thrusts.

But you never came.

Here's where I should make a joke about how much I came. Hint: Like I never knew possible.

Like I said, you pissed me off. Did I mention that?

I want to come home, but not if we're going to fight. So please feed the kids, make sure Danny does his homework, then give me a call when we can speak. If you don't think you can discuss this without screaming at me, then send me your thoughts with a reply to this e-mail address. Please don't use my Comcast email for this. I know you have questions and I'll answer them all.

I thought I had everything under control, but I made some stupid mistakes and I'm in trouble. I need my King.

Love,

Vee

// end e-mail: New Mitch Tape.

Wow. That kid lifeguard? That's what all this is about? Fuck me.

I took a deep breath, selected her phone #... and hit Send.

SQUARE VII

She answered immediately, but waited a second or two before offering a timid "Hi."

Wow, it was terrific to hear her voice, even one syllable; even strained as it was. After a few seconds of more silence, she spoke again, this time with less hesitance:

"I'm alone -- in my car. I've got you on speaker."

More silence (I guess I was letting her know the feeling)

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me. Well, that's not exactly true ," her voice then shifted into something decidedly more relaxed, "You believe the size of that thing?"

I tried hard not to giggle. Giggle? Jeez.

"I mean, is that a baseball bat in his pocket, or is he happy to see me?"

That got me. I started cracking up. A Plaza cross-reference too? Our marriage teeters on the precipice and she's making corny old jokes. I love this girl.

She seized upon the moment: "Oh baby, I'm... "

I'm suddenly dead serious: "How Long?"

"Well, I never actually measured, but I'd guess..."

Damn, she's quick.

"Don't be cute, " (she is, of course -- I'm biting my tongue here) "you know what I mean. How big an asshole did you make of me?"

"That's what I don't get. You loved watching me..."

Still trying to keep my cool: "It's not the same, Vee. You know it's not the same. That was one time with me there, not some Florida school-teacher Whisky Tango behind my back bullshit.

"Touché. But we talked about Artie all day that day. Mike, you gave me Mitch for my 30^th, I really thought Artie was for my 40^th, when I needed the ego-boost even more. I'd never screw anyone behind your back.

"Really, Vee? Why did you make up a bullshit story to go see him today? How long you been fucking him? All I ever asked for was honesty. I know you fucked him again today," I took a shot.

"Well, today he kinda pushed me... "

"Mother Fucker," I yelled, although not missing a word of her non-denial.

"Stop, Mike. I really didn't need much pushing. You saw the videos -- You heard me... cum like that. You know how I get... Damn, Mike, if you didn't disappear that night we'd have all had a night to remember, and maybe more."

"Maybe more? What's that mean?"

"I don't know... Forget I said it. I'm frazzled."

I allowed the questions she ignored to slide for the moment:

"You mentioned trouble in your email."

"Yeah, I did. Here goes: I started getting dick pic texts a few weeks back, from a number I didn't recognize."

"From him?"

"Definitely not. No doubt about that," I could almost hear her juices flow.

"Easy there, Vee, I doubt you're wearing a lobster bib or a wee-wee pad while driving. Anyway, what did he want?"

"Plenty," she warned, ignoring my drooling dig. "You sitting down?"

SQUARE VIII

Vee explained how Artie was pressuring her to join some cuckhold club he may or may not have a piece of -- Sex-starved wives actually paid a fee to have their husbands "pretend-forced" to watch them fuck super-hung men, supposedly to learn "what a REAL cock can do" or some such bullshit. Seems some couples get off on that humiliation shit -- sounds fucking nuts to me -- more of a rent-a-cock than tent-a-cuck. I didn't get all the details, but I do get this: Most chicks who'd hire a stud don't look anything like my Vee, so our lifeguard friend must think he's hit the jackoff jackpot.

Anyway -- Vee claims she set this Artie guy straight. Sure, she wouldn't kick him out of bed as her boy toy (for reasons she's made quite clear), even have me join in the fun, but to pleasure me, NOT to humiliate me.

As I considered her words, I suddenly flashed on the matchbook cover:

"Happy Wife Happy Life?"

"How... How did you...?" she sounded genuinely startled, although I wasn't completely convinced she was. What's she up to?

"I've heard of them," I lied, "besides -- I can be as clever as the next guy, when I'm..."

"He says I have no choice," Vee interrupted, sounding genuinely scared, but still somewhat confused.

"The fuck you don't. What an ego on this prick. Does he really think he's got the world's only big dick swinging between his legs? Or that pictures of you, uh, partying with that dick can be used to extort us?"

"There's more, Mike... I got really fucked up that night." She paused and lowered her tone a notch, "I guess I blacked out. So much of it is a complete blank to me."

"Oh shit." I knew where this was headed.

"Mike, I remember taking the blowjob and 69 pics and him licking my bean and creaming in my mouth. I remember trying to fit him into one of those giant rubbers and spending a few minutes and lots of lube just getting him inside me the first time. I think I remember you finally calling me back, and me hanging up pissed, but that may have been a dream. I kinda recall him finally being able to slide in and out of me, because I remember coming twice the first time it touched bottom, ohhh .. sorry baby... but lots of it is just a blur. When I saw that video with me on top, I, I didn't remember any of that. I know it happened, but I can't remember the details or videoing any of it. I can't help wondering what else I don't remember."

Then, quickly: "Mike, he's got videos of me I didn't know anything about."

"So I haven't seen them all?"

After a few seconds of silence, softly: "No."

I needed two things: Time to think and another peek at that video. There was something about it that had been gnawing at my guts. Not Vee fucking a porn-star cock, showcasing crazy porn-star skills herself -- that was hotter than hot. No, there was something else.

I asked her, "You OK for a few? I need to take care of something. Call you back?"

"I'm fine, babe. Glad you're not mad. Do what you gotta do. Can I head home?"

SQUARE IX

So Vee's in her car with her phone. Artie's supposedly not with her and has his phone.

This Artie fuck not only has my wife pining for his prick, but also believes he has control over me because there's a dick my wife is infatuated with and it's not mine.

I'm convinced Vee's not telling me everything and that this dude's got more on her than she's letting on.

So I watched the "swirl" video again, this time streamed to my bedroom TV, so I could flip through the stills on my phone at the same time. Oh man, I could have easily rubbed out two or three in the opening few minutes alone, it was so freaking hot, but then when the camera...

Holy Shit, that's it! The camera moved around back for a close-up view of Vee greasing the guy's pole! There was someone else in the room with them that night, working the fucking camera and who knows what else?!!!!! Vee never mentioned a 3^rd person. My head spun considering the myriad new possibilities this introduced.

Just a few off the top of my head:

Whose # is whose? Who, if anyone, really sent the dick-pix? Who's trying to cuck me? Who sent the pix and vid to ME, and why and through which phones? Did someone really grab Vee's phone and, if so, who? And, most of all, why is Vee lying to me? Where did she go today? If she wants a "throuple" or an "open marriage" or to be "shared" or whatever the fuck they call it these fucked up days, she knows we can work something out.

Three things I needed to know now: When was this shot, did she really black-out and not remember, and what else isn't she telling me? Make that 4: Who the fuck was holding the damned camera?

I had a hunch how I might figure them all out, but first I had another hunch to play. I checked my watch -- I figure Vee'll be back in about an hour or two. Plenty of time. I opened the cover to my laptop and the Photographs folder on my phone. I found the JPG I was looking for in my phone's picture roll from last month, double clicked on it, and had my answer immediately -- The black phone # on the matchbook was the one Artie was texting me from. And, surprise, surprise, the red email address matched the one Vee just wrote me from.

My eyes smiled: "Gotcha." What are you (and your big dick friends) up to Vee?

So, let's play my next hunch, shall we?

SQUARE X

I opened my web-browser and typed in the odd domain name shared by both matchbook e-mails, only to be instantly challenged for credentials. No sweat. I knew most of her favorite passwords, all plays on the kid's birthdays, so after typing the red email address, with and without domain name as, "User Name," I tried them all. 5 minutes later I was looking at a 12-tab Webform with Tab headings Welcome, About, Member Profile, Meat Market, Meet Market, Throuple Builder, Cuck It, Share It, Swap Shop, Network, History and Contact. Based on the Mission Statement on the 2nd tab, Vee's description of HWHL was not entirely inaccurate, but it was intentionally incomplete. As I mozied through the site, it became clear that what we actually had here was a complete toolkit for both cheating wives and open couples, and cucking was but one of the many low and high-tech services offered.

Minutes later I was looking at the "Uploaded Videos" subfolder of Member @SizeQueen69's "Happy Wife Happy Life - Network Page," and the answers to most of my questions.

The MP4s were sorted by the default setting: Post date/time (Ascending).

On top was a 15 minute clip, timestamped 6 weeks prior, from which all but one of the stills I had seen today were screen-grabbed. It had clearly been taken with a stationary phone and contained the sexiest, most amazing 69-styled blowjob I had ever laid eyes on. Vee used her scrunchy to mark her progress as she learned to take cock deeper and deeper into her mouth and throat. A skill I never knew my wife possessed, but which excited me to no end. They were apparently playing a game -- When she sat on his cock, she could only slide down as far as she'd managed to move the scrunchy. Somehow that excited me even more.

The next opened with the Magnum fitting, camera still fixed, moving on to a side angle of Artie's bodacious boner being introduced to Vee's anxiously awaiting cootchie, she sitting on the edge of bed, legs wide and he standing, knees slightly bent. The meeting didn't go particularly smoothly, with Vee toggling between mild cries of pain and soft coos of pleasure. But it was ultimately successful, and Vee almost cheered when she felt his balls slap her ass for the first time, confirming the total and "depth defying" disappearance of his overlong joystick within.

Then came the notorious "swirl" video, essentially as I had already seen it. A different resolution and field of view than any of the previous, and a moving camera. Watching it a 3^rd time emphasized the fact that in none of the videos so far could a male face be seen. I wondered whether that was Vee's idea, or his. I wouldn't wonder long.

The next 2 videos I had never seen. They were timestamped earlier today. They changed everything.

The first showcased a naked Vee on all fours on the carpet, taking Artie's monster meat-stick doggy-style. He was teasing her -- putting it in only halfway, making her beg for the rest, which she did with each slow, measured, stroke. Was this simple cocksmanship or a clever way to teach Vee a lesson? I guess I'll never know for sure. But the lesson of hearing my wife beg "Pleeeeeease don't stop there," when the there is about as deep as I've ever plunged, followed by " I want to feel that big cock of yours all the way inside me," was by no means lost on me.

Nor was the fact that when she wasn't begging for more she was moaning in that throaty, sexy way that drives me fucking nuts.

Then, the scene jumped and suddenly there was a new character on set. Transitioning from handheld to stationary, I can only assume this to be our mystery cameraman. Artie continued his teasing thrusts, but Vee could no longer beg, as her mouth was now quite full -- with the cameraman's also sizeable shlong. Not the anaconda Vee was milking downstream, of course, but still clearly a candidate for her new favorite form of protection. Anyway, Vee had no problem inhaling it at the same pace she was being plowed from behind. And once again, it seemed the camera was intentionally staged and framed to assure only Vee's face was shown.