It's Only Peanutsbyhansbwl©
Many thanks to Angela Love for editing my feeble attempts to write stories in English.
My wife Linda was out on her half monthly girl's night this evening. I sat in my lounge thinking about her and these Wednesdays that had been her habit during the last year. What was strange about them, was not that she spent every second Wednesday with friends, but she was so little informative. She didn't tell me who she was with, only that it was girls from her job that I didn't know. She never told where they had been and what they talked about. She was always late, very late. I wondered!
We have been married three years now and I felt we had a happy marriage. Admittedly we had two problems to consider, both affecting the daily life. One was Linda's hyper sensitivity to Peanuts, just one nut could kill her. It was not only important what she ate, but she had to be so careful were she went so as not to come in contact with peanuts. A handshake with a person who had been handling peanuts would give a serious swelling of her hand at the best, but could also result in an allergic attack. So when she was out, I had reason to be a little bit worried.
The second problem, my penis size, affected our love life. She knew it before we married, but she said it is you I love, not your penis. It was so easy to say, but it soon became obvious it was a problem for both of us.
I looked at my watch, 10:30 p.m.-- she would not be home for another couple hours. Before going to bed I decided to complete today's Soduko I was working on. The medium I had done in about ten minutes and I had only a few figures left on the hard one. Just as I filled in the last figure the shrill sound of the phone interrupted my concentration. Who could phone so late? Was it Linda saying she would be later than usual today? I was thinking while I went to get the phone.
"Hello, who's calling this late?"
"Are you Mr. David Kenwood, the husband of Linda Kenwood?" A male voice queried.
"Yes I am," I replied hesitantly. "But who are you may I ask again?"
"I'm Dr. Malcom Ford, I'm calling from the Downtown Hospital. Your wife was brought in to us about an hour ago with an allergic attack. I may reassure you she is out of danger, but we think you should come down here and see her."
"Oh God, it's peanuts, isn't it? I'll be right down, it will take me half an hour," I replied.
"Yes it was. Please don't use your car if you have had anything to drink, Sir, we would like to see you walking in on your own two feet. When you are here ask for me and we will talk."
A little more than a half hour later I was shown in to Linda by Dr. Ford. I was prepared for what she would look like, but it was a little shock just the same. She was lying there with closed eyes, her lips were severely swollen so she obviously would not be able to talk. Her left cheek was just as bad. I took her right hand in mine and squished it gently, she opened her eyes and looked at me.
I kissed her fingertips and whispered, "I love you."
She squished faintly back and I saw tears rolling down her cheeks. She had been kissed, she understood I knew. No words were necessary, between us passed a genuine feeling of regret and love, I whispered to her again, "I love you, we'll talk tomorrow when you are better."
She just nodded her agreement.
Dr. Ford told me they would keep her under observation overnight, and I could come and fetch her next morning. He was certain that most of the swelling would be gone by then. Next morning, after collecting Linda at the hospital and taking her home, sitting in the living room I asked, "What happened yesterday?"
She sat quiet for a while and said, "I did not do anything improper last night, when I explain the details I expect you will have no problem believing me. However, I have to tell you why I was at this bar, that is going to be very difficult."
"Ok Linda, start with the easy bit, what happened yesterday?"
"I was at this bar in the centre having a glass of white wine. Next to me at the bar counter was a very nice man who started to talk to me. We chatted a long time, he bought me another glass of wine and we laughed a lot together. He ate peanuts, and when he offered me some I did not go into details, I just politely declined. Later I needed to go to the rest room, and when I came out from the rest room he was there. He must have followed me, and must have thought I was flirting, because he grabbed me and kissed me. I pushed him away. He tried once more but I turned my head so he kissed me on the cheek. I screamed at him, ran to the counter and asked the bartender to call an ambulance, I told him I would have an allergic reaction within a couple of minutes. I knew that just a kiss from somebody that had been eating peanuts was sufficient to give me a serious reaction. Very quickly I felt the attack, and the next I remember was me waking up in the hospital."
She made a pause, looked at me and continued, "I can give you the name of the bar, and I am sure they will confirm that what I told you is a correct and true presentation of what really happened."
"No need to do that, I believe you," I replied, "but for the difficult part, why were you at that bar in the first place. I assumed you were out with the girls. But you were not, you had very different plans, didn't you?"
"Yes I had. I have been struggling with my thoughts most of the night and I have decided to be frank with you. I might have got away with it, by just saying that the girls day out was cancelled. But I came to the conclusion, I had to take the risk of being honest, even if it meant you would hate me. Hoping you would understand and forgive. This is difficult for me David, please let me complete my whole story without interruption, and please remember that my love for you is more than it has ever been. "
"You have been seeing another man, haven't you?" I asked. "How can you do that and still say that you love me?"
I felt like screaming and shouting, calling her names and whatever nasty things that came to mind, but knowing it wouldn't make anything better I just kept quiet. I looked sadly at her, and I saw she cried silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. It could not be easy for her, and in a resigned voice I said, "Please continue, I will not interrupt."
She dried her eyes with a handkerchief, looked at me and started to tell me her story: "You remember, about a year ago I told you that in the parking lot at the mall a gentleman nicked the left rear mudguard on my car. He was very sorry, and took all the blame, saying he would pay for the repair. He gave me his visiting card and asked me to call him when the car was repaired. He would either pay the workshop directly or refund me in cash, at my discretion. When the car was repaired, I called him and told him that I had paid the workshop $ 825 for the job.
Instead of sending me the money, he asked if we could meet at the coffee shop at the mall so he could pay me directly. I called from my office a Wednesday afternoon, and we agreed to meet the same day after I finished my work. After he paid me, he suggested we have a coffee together and I agreed. We talked. He was a very pleasant man, with a great sense of humor. I really enjoyed talking with him, and the time flew by fast. What seemed like five minutes soon became an hour. He told me a bit about his life, how he had lost his wife suddenly by a stroke a few years ago, and that he missed her very much. Little by little the talking became more personal and he said that even though he had two boys with families that were very good towards him, they could not help him with the intimate sexual life he had with his wife until her death.
He then said something that took me by surprise. "You Linda, you are happily married and you have a good and healthy sex life I presume?" I didn't answer him immediately, so he said, "Oops, have I crossed a too personal line here, please forgive me."
I then said, "Maybe you have."
I then told him about you and our problem with your penis size, how much I loved you and that I could not think of any man that could be so good to me. The only thing I longed for so intensely was to have a normal sized cock in me. I think I even shed a few tears. He did not say anything, just went to get two more cups of coffee.
When he came back with the coffee, he sat there as thinking hard on something, looked at me and said, "Maybe we can help each other."
"How?" I replied.
"I have a normal size cock so I can give you that experience. You can give me the moment of intimacy I so sorely need," he said.
"I cannot cheat on my husband," was my immediate response.
He then argued roughly as follows: "You love your husband, and I am not a threat toward that love. I'm more than twice your age at sixty-nine years. I will be seventy in a couple of months. He need not know and your feelings for him will most likely be more relaxed after you have got your longing out of the way. You are a young woman and most in your age group have had a varied experience in their sex life. That varied experience does not constitute an obstacle to love for one person."
She looked at me, gave a deep sigh, and continued, "David, we had a very long discussion, and to make a long story short, it ended by me calling you saying I was going out with the girls and I would be home later in the evening. We went to his house, he cooked a wonderful dinner, we talked and I had a great time with him. Yes I did sleep with him that day. Both of us had a good time. I like him very much, but I don't love him. So that is how my half monthly girl's night out started. When I came to his house last night, his live in maid met me at the front door and told me he had a heart attack earlier in the day. He was at the hospital and his condition was critical. That's why I was at the bar yesterday."
She looked at me and cried, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then she threw herself at me, her arms around me, hugging me with her face buried in the arch of my neck, sobbing. "Please forgive me David, I needed so much to feel a normal sized cock, you are so huge and it hurts so much, please forgive me."
A week later Linda came in with the local newspaper. She showed me the obituary on a local business man of some fame. She pointed at the column and told me, "It's him."
I understood immediately what she meant, and when she asked me if it was okay for her to go to his funeral, for some kind of closure, I encouraged her. A year later we had a beautiful baby girl, and the doctor who had been told about my very large cock, said as she was now very much stretched after the childbirth, we should start having sex soon as she felt comfortable with it. I had only to be very careful about hygiene. Our love life has greatly improved, she is now used to my size and a she is so loose now that she no longer craves a normal sized cock, she wouldn't feel it. I'm quite content, I'm one of the very few who can fill her up now so I don't feel threatened!