by S. R. Grey
Hmm, he may have a point. Several points, actually.
But I’m not giving in on this dick thing. Hell, I haven’t even agreed to have my own member measured. Not that I think I’d lose or anything.
Fuck, no. I know my cock is king.
Benny, I’m sure due to him being the only sober one, comes up with a sensible compromise.
“How about if we just let our partners measure us individually…and privately?”
“Or the guys could measure each other,” Eliza interjects.
We all look at each other and shout a collective, “No!”
“Sorry, but I’m not getting anywhere near either of their penises,” I snort.
Nolan and Benny wholeheartedly agree, and that wacky idea is thankfully scrapped.
“Okay, so back to our partners measuring us,” Benny begins.
“But then there could be cheating,” Aubrey objects.
Is my girl really that interested in keeping this goofy contest on the up-and-up? No pun intended. Or does she actually maybe want to check out some other cocks?
Shit, I better follow up on that later. Maybe I’m not keeping her completely satisfied. I might need to up my game.
“Everyone just has to promise to be truthful,” Lainey says.
“So, like, this is on the honor system?” Eliza clarifies.
“Yes.” Lainey then warns, “No cheating, though…or else.”
Hell, I don’t even want to know what her “or else” could be, nor do I care to find out.
Remember, the Shelburne women are crazy. And the last thing I need is more “crazy” on my dick.
I Better Get Him Harder Than I Ever Have
With the dick-measuring contest parameters set, we all disperse to our respective bedrooms.
Once I have Brent alone in ours and he’s positioned how I want him—leaning back against a slew of pillows on the bed—I roll back my shoulders and start juking and jiving around the room.
Hey, a girl’s got to loosen up, right?
“Brent,” I say, bouncing on my toes. “I know your ankle’s hurt and all, but that should have no effect on your cock. If we just relax and go with it, I think we got this.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. And then he shakes his head.
“What the hell are you doing, Aubrey? This isn’t a Rocky reenactment. We’re having a dick-measuring contest, not prepping for a boxing match. My dick’s not fighting anyone.”
“Ahh, and that’s where you’re wrong,” I counter. “Your dick is going up against two of your teammates’ peens. And from what I’ve been hearing, they’re no slouches in the size department.”
“That is info I so do not need to know,” he states wearily.
“Hey.” I snap my fingers. “Pay attention here, stay sharp. We’re in it to win it, damn it.” I roll my head, stretching out my neck. “And in order to accomplish that, I’m going to have to get you harder than I ever have before.”
How can he argue with that?
He doesn’t; he just shuts his damn mouth.
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
Crawling up on the bed, I shove him back into the pillows, commanding, “Now relax.”
“Ooh, Aubrey…” He laughs. “I think I like this demanding version of you.”
“Ha.” I whip my shirt up over my head and toss it aside. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, bud.”
He smiles. And then, nodding down to his lap, he informs me, “Babe, I’m already getting hard. I think you’re right. We are so going to win this.”
Unclasping my bra, I let my breasts spill out as I murmur, “Oh, we are, Brent. We are.”
With my shirt and bra abandoned to the floor, I set aside the cloth measuring tape from Lainey. She had a bunch of them in her purse and passed one out to each couple before we dispersed.
Hmm, like she didn’t plan all along for this to happen.
Ha! Well, it’s on now.
I slide my shorts and panties down my legs and shimmy out of them.
“I think I should be completely naked,” I say to Brent.
Again, there’s no argument from him. He not only agrees, he starts eyeing me hungrily with those whiskey-colored eyes.
Good start.
After skimming my hands up and down my body in a teasing manner, I start playing with my breasts, until my nipples are hard and erect.
“Fuck, babe,” Brent says roughly, the bulge in his pants growing larger and larger.
Smiling seductively, I lean forward and unbuckle his belt. “Pants and underwear off,” I order.
Brent complies in about five seconds flat.
“Wow, that was fast,” I remark, smirking, “especially for someone who’s injured.”
“I’m just going along with your demands,” he replies. “And for the record, nothing really hurts right now, anyway.”
“I bet,” I say.
Brent’s in charge so often in our bed that I’m not surprised he likes this turnabout of play.
I generally enjoy him being the boss—when it comes to sex, that is—but I can’t deny taking charge now and again sure is fun.
“Okay,” I say slowly as I decide what to order him to do next.
I’m getting pretty hot and bothered myself so it’s hard to think clearly.
“Hmm,” I begin, at last. “I think I’m going to play with my clit now. And you get to be a good boy and watch.”
“Aubrey, shit.” Brent’s dick twitches.
Lifting my leg up and over him, placing my foot flat on the bed, I nod to my wet-as-fuck pussy and ask, “Do you like the view?”
“I fucking love it, Aubrey.”
Unexpectedly, he lifts up and runs his tongue along my slit.
“Unh…wait. I’m supposed to be working on you,” I say shakily.
He stops. “I know, but you know how much I love tasting you. Let me make you come first. Okay, Aubs? Watching you fall apart will have me so ready to explode that I’ll be at my absolute hardest.”
It’s true—if Brent’s on the verge, he’ll be freaking huge.
How can I say no to that? It’s like a double win.
Nodding rapidly, I agree.
Having been given the go-ahead, Brent returns to licking and lapping my folds, spreading me wide and doing his thing. Pretty soon his dick is harder than I’ve ever seen it.
“Ah, Brent,” I gasp, my eyes practically rolling back in my head with how good what he’s doing feels. “I, uh, I think we should stop for a sec and get in a quick measurement.”
He peers up at me, his lips wet from my juices, as he says, “You sure about that, babe?”
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
In the fog of impending orgasm, I fumble for the tape measure. Once I finally have it in my hand, I stretch it taut and measure Brent from base to tip.
“Wow,” I marvel, “you’re even bigger than I thought.”
Brent preens. “Why, thank you, Aubrey.”
He gains another tenth of an inch from my compliment.
“Good boy,” I murmur, patting his thigh. “Your dick clearly likes flattery.”
“It would seem so,” he agrees, laughing.
With the number recorded in my head—I mean, shit, how could I forget that tally for a cock length?—I toss the tape measure aside.
And then I climb astride all nine-point-one inches of Brent Oliver and go for the ride of my life.
Numbers Are In And We Have a Winner!
“What do we get if we win?” Benny asks as he plops down on the big cushy chair to my right.
“Blow jobs from all the girls?” Nolan, seated over on the sofa, asks, raising a brow.
Good thing he’s not close enough for me to smack him. Like Aubrey would ever agree to touch him. And like I’d go for something so stupid.
“You’re such an ass.” I glare over at my unruly teammate. “You fucking wish.”
“Dude, that’s so not cool,” Benny tells Nolan with a did-you-really-just-say-that eye ro
ll.
Sufficiently cowed, Nolan relents. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I was only joking.”
“That better have just been a joke,” I grumble, still feeling irritated with him.
We’ve reconvened in the living room. Well, the boys and I have. The ladies all wanted to “freshen up” before we got down to the results.
I have to laugh at that one. Everyone ended up fucking like Aubs and I. I’m not surprised, as that getting-ready-to-measure shit was far too hot.
I have to commend Lainey—the measuring contest was a stellar idea.
Speaking of the little devilette, she walks into the living room, looking happy and satisfied.
When I pull her aside to tell her I really fucking liked her idea, she smiles smugly.
“Thanks, Brent,” she says. “I knew it’d turn out to be a lot of fun.”
She’s not kidding.
I notice then that she’s holding a slip of paper in her hand.
Ha, that makes me laugh.
Guess she and Nolan felt compelled to record his measurement by writing it down.
Was it so unimpressive that you thought you’d forget? I consider saying.
But I don’t.
After losing this contest, which Nolan surely will with me involved, they’re bound to feel crappy enough.
Aubrey comes into the room next, along with Eliza. I notice both girls, and Lainey, are wearing black running shorts and black and red Wolves tees.
“Did you ladies all plan to dress alike, or have we officially entered mind-hive territory here?” I ask, chuckling.
“We planned it,” Aubrey replies. “We wanted to let you guys know that no matter what the results are, we’re all still a team here.”
“Aw, babe…” I reach over and pull her onto my lap.
We start kissing because, damn, I always want my lips on this girl in some capacity.
But, of course, the gang starts razzing us and I know this tender moment won’t last.
“Enough already,” Nolan grumps.
Someone throws a decorative pillow from the sofa at us, probably him.
“Get a room!” another person shouts.
“They were just in a room, hon.”
That’s Benny, meaning the first comment was from Eliza.
“Looks like they need to go back,” Lainey chimes in. “Maybe Brent didn’t do it right the first time.”
Her snide remark is enough to garner my attention, and thus slam the brakes on Aubs and my make-out session.
Leaning back, I point to my soon-to-be sister-in-law and say, “Hey, let’s get one thing straight, right here, right now. I definitely did do it right the first time.” I look up at my girl and add, “Isn’t that right, Aubrey?”
“Damn straight.” She leans down and touches her lips to mine. “You sure did, Brent.”
And just to stick it to Lainey, we play tongue hockey again until everyone starts groaning.
“That’ll fix you fuckers,” I murmur once we finally break apart.
It may have been Lainey who pissed me off, but the others were all commenting too.
“Are we going to announce the numbers or not?” I state.
It’s time to get down to business.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” Benny replies, nodding. “I’m ready.”
Lainey holds up her slip of paper and smugly states, “I think we should clap for Nolan now since I already know he definitely won.”
The other girls grumble over that one. And then Lainey is pissed too, mad that Aubrey and Eliza didn’t officially “record” their results.
“How are we supposed to know you’re telling the truth?” Lainey accuses, eyeing them suspiciously.
Aubrey protests, “Same goes for you. Just because you wrote something down doesn’t make it official or anything.”
Lainey concedes, “Yeah, but what if you forgot the specific final figure?”
“Trust me.” Aubrey squeezes my thigh since she’s still on my lap. “There’s no way I could ever forget Brent’s measurement…like ever.”
She’s just the best.
“I should marry you,” I murmur. And then, smacking my forehead, I exclaim, “Wait, I’m already doing that.”
Aubrey snorts, “Brent, you’re so silly sometimes.”
Eliza chimes in then, though not in regards to me. She’s too busy defending her memorization skills.
“Benny’s number in my head is perfectly accurate,” she says. “And for the record, he beat all your dick lengths so you may as well give it up now.”
“We’ll see about that,” I murmur.
“Can we just get to the numbers, already?” Nolan grumbles.
“Yes, let’s,” I say.
Aubrey, straightening up, but remaining in my lap, asks everyone, “Who wants to go first?”
Eliza raises her hand. “Ooh, me, me. I’ll go first.”
“All righty then.” Aubrey clears her throat. “How long is Benny Perry’s dick?”
Preening, Eliza states, “Eight and a half inches.”
“Ha,” I bark out.
Aubrey smacks me. “Wait your turn, Brent. I think Lainey should go next with Nolan’s result.”
You can tell she really wants me to beat Nolan.
And hell, I do too.
Lainey, agreeing to go next, makes a big production in preparing to read out Nolan’s number.
Unfolding her slip of paper, she clears her throat, pauses, then finally announces, “Nolan Solvenson came in at…drum roll, please…nine inches on the nose.”
“Oh my God, Brent!” Aubrey wraps her arms around me and squeals, “We won, we won!”
I feel pretty smug that, though not by much, I’ve beaten both my teammates. I guess it’s just my competitive nature to always want to win at everything.
Raising a brow while peering up at my girl, I say, “Want to go back to the bedroom and celebrate?”
Just like how I feel about kissing her, I can never get enough of sticking my dick in her too—all nine-point-one inches of it.
Aubrey nods, but everyone makes her announce my dick size before we disappear to our room.
“Okay, okay,” she says. “Brent Oliver came in at an impressive nine-point-one inches.”
“Ah, I was so close,” Nolan laments, bowing his head.
“I demand a redo,” Benny yells. “I was losing my sexy thoughts mojo when Eliza finally pulled out the tape measure.”
“That’s because you pulled out too soon,” Eliza retorts. “I told you to wait until you were ready to erupt.”
Lainey turns to Nolan. “Yeah, and I should’ve done that thing I do with my tongue before we measured. You know, that one you like so much? I bet doing that would’ve added the extra bump we needed to beat damn Brent.”
I wince. “Jesus, God, enough with all the detail already. Last thing I care to have stuck in my head are images of their dicks.” I gesture to Benny and Nolan.
“Really,” Nolan says. “He has a point.”
“For sure,” Benny concurs.
With the numbers in, we finally all agree that it was a close one. Everyone did well.
“On any given Sunday,” Benny laments. “You know, that means we all had a chance to win.”
Aubrey rolls her eyes, and I remind Benny that it’s actually Saturday.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” he says.
“Well, at least it was a fun contest,” declares Eliza.
No one can argue with that.
But, of course, Nolan has to snark, “Yeah, we should do it again sometime.”
He’s totally joking, but Lainey jumps all over it like he’s dead serious.
“Hey, we absolutely should do this again,” she says. “But this time, let’s make it a widest girth contest!”
That’s when we all groan and throw a barrage of decorative pillows at her.
Benny’s Special-Order Donuts
I’m kind of glad the dick-measuring contest is behind us. That means we can all ge
t back to focusing on why we’re in Minnesota—for the freaking wedding, people!
Speaking of our upcoming nuptials, Brent and I spend the morning working on our vows. Turns out we have some very lovely things to say about each other, which is good since we’re about to become husband and wife.
I tell him as much and he replies, “You know what? I never thought I could be this excited about getting married. But I am. I can’t wait to make you my wife.”
“I’m pumped about the wedding too,” I share. “Now if everything could just come together.”
He knows I’m talking about the setbacks as of late. There’s so much more than vows to worry about.
And I’m right to be concerned.
The next day arrives, Monday, and I discover that my dress is still not in.
Nor is it at the bridal shop on Tuesday…or Wednesday.
I’m not panicking, you’re panicking.
Yeah, right.
Truth is, by Thursday, I’m completely freaking out. I mean, crap, the wedding is only nine days away. That’s not enough time to have a new gown made. Not to mention, I love my dress. I don’t want to wear anything else.
But it’s not just the missing dress that’s weighing me down. Worrying about Brent is keeping me up night after night. His ankle is healing, sure, and he no longer needs the crutches to get around, but he’s still in a lot of pain.
“I’m really concerned about Brent,” I share with my sister as we’re driving away, empty-handed once again, from the bridal shop.
“The wedding is next Saturday,” I go on, “and I’m not even sure he’ll be able to walk down the aisle without limping.”
“Pfft,” Lainey snorts from over in the passenger seat. “That’s the least of your worries, Aubrey. Brent can at least hobble to the altar in his nicely tailored tux. You, on the other hand, you’ll be lucky to not have to walk down the aisle in jeans and a T-shirt.”
“I know. I was just saying that exact same thing to Brent the other day.” I shake my head. “This is truly awful, Lainey.”
“I’m sorry this is happening to you,” my sister says, her tone heartfelt.
As we continue driving through town, I focus on the various shops, reading each of their quaint little names to myself. I need something to distract myself from my troubles or I may start crying.