The Size Anthology

by KT Morrison

  Date Night

  1

  Inside Out

  Thursday, August, 11th

  Pete put the boys to bed at a quarter after eight. They complained. It was too early, they said. But ‘Inside Out’ was over—fuck, they’d seen it fourteen times already—and he was crawling out of his skin. He kissed them and put them to bed. Little Andy begged for a story and he sat and read for both of them but he was a hundred million miles away.

  Now he was sitting in the living room, his second Dewar’s melting ice cubes on the end table at his elbow. She’d looked so beautiful when she’d left. Standing in the hall looking at him with one hand on the doorknob, ready to leave. She seemed nervous, fearful, her eyes were wide. He’d put his hand on her shoulder, gripped her arm—reassured her. She nodded and braced herself. He kissed her on her warm forehead so he wouldn’t muss her lipstick and she put her arms around his waist and hugged him for a long while. Then she left.

  He’d watched her walk down their short driveway. She had dressed herself up and he longed to be the one she’d done it for. She wore heels, the first time he ever remembered her wearing them. Black, not too high, enough to make her legs seem even more shapely. She stumbled to the minivan learning to walk on her toes as she went. She got in and he saw her face in a brief instant lit up by the dome before she closed the door. Her long, pale blonde hair, thick and lightened by the summer sun, pulled up and away from her still beautiful face, done up in a bun held in place by two metal sticks. It showed off her long, elegant neck. In that little second, lit up in their six-year-old minivan, he saw her for the last time as he’d known her. His beautiful wife. Third Grade teacher. Bill payer. Nose wiper. Loving partner. Number one mom. He didn’t know who was going to come home to him tonight but he knew they would be changed forever as a couple. It gripped him, excited him—absolutely scared the living shit out of him. He had held his breath as the silver van crawled across the night-time blue of their little cul-de-sac dripping water from the exhaust.

  Pete took another sip of his drink. He squeezed the glass in his fist, felt it cold and hard. He took another swig, drained it, and set it quietly back down. His lips were numb from the ice as he stared into the dark room.

  What was she doing right now? Right this moment terrible things could be happening to his wife. She could be bent over the bench seat in the back of their van, her rump tilted up, skewered by her foul-mouthed co-worker, panting and grunting, fogging up their windows, the suspension squeaking as he fucked her.

  He hated the thought. He cherished the thought. His passionate wife really getting it like she wanted for once. He hoped she loved it. He hoped she cried out so loud when she came that she deafened that ape.

  Pete didn’t like her choice. But he had to abide it. That was their rule. He’d wanted this first, she wanted it too, but it was her choice, not his. She could have picked anyone. Anyone from her work, at a bar, or even find some stud online. She only wanted one man. She wouldn’t consider another.

  Was Tyler her type of man? I mean, physically he understood. Tyler was ten years younger than them. Taught gym to the older grades at a sister school and he was very fit. But too muscular. And his personality was muscular too. Brash, arrogant, loud. He had too much to drink at the little end-of-summer get-together they had two weekends ago. He had to be reminded at least a dozen times to watch his language in front of the children. He looked out of place amongst their normal suburban mom and dad friends with his thick but athletic body. And Tyler had to wear long sleeve shirts when he was at school but at the party, everyone could see the tattoos that covered both his arms and over one shoulder onto his chest. Dragons and demons and swords, random Americana mixed in with all that. Bunch of kid shit.

  That’s what his wife liked? He couldn’t believe she would fall for all that show. She seemed to—he’d seen her talking to Tyler in a quiet corner later in the party when it had got darker. She was tracing the lines drawn on his arm with her forefinger. She was flirting with him, her bare, tanned legs drawn up underneath her, looking up at him through her eyelashes, almost empty glass of white wine held crooked in her other hand. Pete took that hard. The arrangement, as it had come to be known, was already under way, but it still hurt to be confronted with it. It hurt but it turned him on and he hated that it did.

  That big, dumb fuck was with his wife right now, thinking that Jess was sneaking out on a little date behind Pete’s back. He bet that Tyler would be high-fiving himself all night thinking he’d got one over on Pete, fucked his wife, never realizing Jess was the one doing the fucking, and doing it with her husband’s blessing.

  The room was lit up with headlights coming in the driveway. He watched his silhouette glide across the fireplace, the bookshelves, the framed finger-painting Pete Jr. had done of the family. His mom and dad and brother and their Irish setter, a red hot dog shape with fat legs standing in thick brushstrokes of bright green grass. He heard the van door slam, heels on brick.

  His heart was gripped. It was done. He got up and walked to the door, watched her come into the dark house. She was aware of him in the hall, standing near her. She paused a moment, keys still in her hand.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice so quiet he hardly heard her say it. He moved to her and hugged her.

  “Did it happen?”

  “It did.”

  He could have fallen to his knees but he was prepared for this. He looked into her eyes, lit up dimly by the streetlights. Her hair was out of the bun, dishevelled, her makeup was gone, her mascara running. Had she been crying? “Come in,” he said, closing the door. He walked her into the living room, his hand on the small of her back.

  He sat down on the couch and turned the table lamp on, lighting them both up soft and gentle in pale yellow. Jess stepped out of her heels and stood in her bare feet.

  She put herself down on the couch carefully, sitting on one cheek and tucking a leg underneath her. She winced. “A little sore,” she said.

  Pete’s heart raced. It was true. She had fucked him. There was no turning back. Who was this woman he used to know sitting in front of him? He was excited to find out.

  “How was it?”

  She bit her lip, prepared herself for this. “It was...Pete, it was incredible,” she said.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  She had her hands together in her lap. His little slut wife putting on the demure act. Trying to act like she used to.

  “We went out for drinks at that place on the number Seven, by the Harley dealership—where all the college kids go. We only had two drinks...he was really flirting, putting on a show, you know—”

  “Yeah?”

  “So I leaned in and told him I just wanted,” she paused, then whispered, “to fuck.”

  “You said that to him? What’d he do?” His heart was pounding in his ears. Jess never said that word.

  “He was cool about it, he just nodded and threw down some cash and then he, you know...took my hand and marched me out of there.” That made her laugh, thinking about it.

  “Then where did you go?”

  “I just took him into the van,” she said, making a funny face like she hoped that would be all right.

  “You fucked him in our minivan?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, laughing again. Was it going to be just like he’d pictured?

  “How’d you start?” Pete’s whole insides, from the top of his heart right down to his asshole had seized right up. He couldn’t breathe. He really thought there was a chance he could pass out. Jess reached out and took his hand, saw him struggling. They were in this together.

  “Well, he didn’t waste much time. We got in the van and he started kissing me, kissing down my neck. He lifted my top up over my head—”

  “Did he touch your breasts?”

  She squeezed his hand, held it tight for a moment, then said, “Of course he did. I took my...I took my bra off for him and he sucked on them...sucked on my nipples.”

  “Oh
boy,” he said.

  Jess moved herself into him, cuddled up with him. She said, “I love you. I love that we’re in this together.”

  “Yeah, keep going.” He wasn’t sure how much he was into it anymore.

  “He took his shirt off—oh my gosh, Pete, his body. I almost came running my hands over him. I wanted to take more time with that—enjoy it—but we were moving pretty fast. He was squeezing my breasts while I did it, maybe a little too hard, but I just let him. Pete, he has muscles on muscles.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But I was dying for him to put it in me. I was shaking so bad. I undid his pants and pulled them down...” she hesitated. Pete saw that she was feeling like this was getting a little delicate.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  “Well, I’d already kind of heard...” she was stuck for a moment.

  “Heard what? That he had—”

  “Yeah, I’d heard that he had a really big one.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Sara Bridge—Grade Two—she heard that from a friend of a friend. Someone saw him in a shower at the gym.”

  “You...is that why you picked him?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

  “I wondered why you’d pick someone that arrogant—”

  “Oh no, I like that too. And that body...”

  “And now his big dick…”

  “I’m in love with his penis.”

  “So it was big?”

  Jess rolled her eyes. She held her hands apart a distance that Pete couldn’t believe.

  “Oh, come on, I thought bodybuilders were supposed to have small ones,” he said.

  She clutched his arm, “Pete, I’m serious. It was hard to move around in the van without it getting stuck on something.” She made a wide-eyed face at him, then held her hands up like she was holding a hot dog, said, “Like really, really thick too.”

  “Really?”

  “Biggest one I have ever seen,” she said, putting her hand over her heart.

  “Bigger than—”

  “Brad? Way bigger. I mean way bigger.” Brad was a boyfriend she’d had her first year in University and she’d sometimes tell Pete about him during their dirty talk. He had been her biggest until tonight.

  “So...” he said, struggling. He was feeling a little sick now. This might be too much to take all at once. He suddenly didn’t want to really talk about this anymore. Maybe later, just take a little break.

  He felt Jess’ hands come to his waist. She fumbled with his buckle, undid it, then slowly did his fly down. She fished his little thing out, it was hard as a rock, sticking straight up barely poking up out of his pants. She peeled the fly apart, exposing it, a silver string of semen lit up in the light stuck to the inside of his zipper. She touched him with her finger and it poured from him.

  “So you were saying...you were saying that he had a really great cock?”

  “It was even more than I’d hoped for,” she said. She held his dick in her fingers looking at his shame. The reason they’d agreed that she could seek out pleasure from another man.

  “Did you put it in your mouth?”

  She shook her head, said, “I didn’t want to waste time, I just wanted it inside me.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “I just laid back, I put my leg up on, you know, over the back of the bench. Then he...he put it inside me.” She stroked her husband, giving him what she knew he liked.

  “Did it hurt?”

  “A little. I definitely felt it. But Pete, I was so wet it really...it really did just slide in there. I was surprised. It’s been so long since I’ve had a real one inside me. I’m used to this cute little guy.”

  “You really needed it.”

  “I really did.”

  “So you fucked him face to face? Were you kissing?”

  “I think so, probably. I was pretty overwhelmed, it just really felt so damn good. I could’ve been doing anything, but I was just thinking about his size inside me.”

  “Jess, did he wear a condom?”

  “Of course he did, Petey. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Okay.”

  Jess leaned over his lap and she reached out with her fingers, snagged a folded blanket on the arm of the couch and she pulled it over. “So, Pete, then he was making love to me. He was doing it so hard. He was making me gasp.” She opened the blanket, unfolded it and lay it across his lap, covered up his erection. “I’m worried one of the boys might come down.”

  “Yeah, okay,” he said, desperately wanting her hand back on his little dick, dying to hear more. She slid her hand over his thigh and under the blanket.

  She searched around for it, found it, said, “Oh, here he is. He’s so hard, Pete. You like hearing about a real man putting his huge penis inside me, don’t you?”

  “I do, Jess. I want you to be happy.”

  She stroked him with just her soft fingertips, running them gently up and down the sides of his throbbing little hard-on. “Tyler made me very happy. He really filled up my insides, stretched me out down there like I never felt.”

  “Tell me how he fucked you.”

  “Just like I told you. We didn’t switch around or anything. He just shoved that big thing between my legs and we were face to face. We made love like—”

  “He fucked you.” She hated the word but he needed to hear it from her.

  “He fucked me, Pete. He fucked me hard. He was amazing. I felt his stomach while he was inside me. He pounded me and I ran my fingers over his abs, felt his muscles flex. It really was incredible.”

  “Did he make you come?”

  She kept stroking him, her eyes watching the blanket move as her hand worked him under there. She bit her lip. Maybe he didn’t want to know.

  “No, he didn’t. But, Pete, it was so close. In a way, it was like I was coming the whole time, it was so...I don’t know, so crazy, so exciting.”

  “He came?”

  “Oh, yeah, he did. It didn’t actually last that long. He...fucked me...hard and fast and I felt his stomach all over. I wanted it to go on forever. But he came. Just a couple of minutes. I could feel him inside me coming, you know? Even though he was wearing a condom I could feel his penis flexing inside me and I could feel his...come...shooting into the end of the condom. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “Oh God, Jess,” she had him on the edge now. It wasn’t the dirty talk he expected. He thought she’d tell him how Tyler made her come like mad. How she thrashed under him and screamed his name out and had the orgasm of her life. This story was dirtier somehow. She almost came. She could feel his load fill up his condom inside her. She was so dirty. He could feel more precum stream out of him, could feel his wife’s hand get slipperier on it, flick on his glans quicker and quicker. “Shit, Jess, what happened then?”

  “We kind of looked at each other for a minute. It was weird and uncomfortable, really. He got nervous, like, maybe he realized he just had sex with another man’s wife. A man he’d met.”

  “Something tells me he doesn’t care about that, ah...” one of her fingers danced across his hole.

  “Maybe not, but it got strange. He pulled it out of me and that was a really funny feeling. Like I felt empty or something. Then I watched him zip it up and he said he should get going. I wanted more but it was...it felt wrong all of a sudden. Then he left. And I watched him go to his bike and I drove around for a while. Then I came home.”

  Jess was quiet for a while, flicking her wrist on him, her thumb on the underside of his little cock, three fingers along the back, hidden in his pubic hair. “Don’t you think it’s so unfair? I mean, you were born with this tiny little penis and there’s another man out there who can drive a woman crazy with something two, maybe three—maybe four times what you’ve got. Wouldn’t it make sense if everyone was kind of the same? When you see the ends of the spectrum, that’s when you really see the difference in sizes. You’re at the smallest end, so, so tiny, then he’s
got this big, fat beautiful thing, you just can’t keep your hands off it.”

  “It is so unfair. I can’t even please my beautiful wife.”

  “That’s all right, we’ve got someone who can now.”

  “Are you going to fuck him again?”

  “I can’t wait to. You’re not going to try and stop me are you?” Her hand was on him, she had complete control. He looked at his beautiful but now very dirty wife. She had an innocent face. So pretty, with fine features and a long beautiful neck. Her eyes were big and expressive, the lightest crystal blue—when she talked people were rapt, lost in her gaze. She was so kind and so warm—no one who knew them would ever imagine she would go out on a date with another man, fuck him in their minivan, then humiliate her husband with some of the dirtiest talk you could imagine while she stroked his small cock. She could get away with anything with that sweet face.

  “I want you to get what you want.”

  “I’m serious. I wanted to go again right away, but the whole thing felt so odd when he came. He buttoned himself up and got out of there. I would have gone all night with him and that big, thick penis.”

  “He got what he wanted.”

  “He doesn’t know what I want. Not like you do,” she whispered in his ear, her fingertips gliding over his sensitive tip.

  “Oh God, Jess, I wish I had what he had.”

  “I do too. It’s all right now. I think we’ve found someone who’ll play along with us. And I want to go back to that well every time I get thirsty.”

  “Will you let me watch you next time?”

  “I might. I’ll ask him. If he doesn’t like it you’ll just have to sit at home alone again and think about me with him. Think about me crying out when he forces that big club into me. Think about how he’s making me come, over and over again.” She was watching him, her face so close to his, watching him tremble on the verge of a monstrous orgasm. She was toying with him, building up something that was going to make him crazy.