American Dream: Part 2

Sarah: Tuesday, 9:46 am

Lost in thought I sit at the dining room table slowly circling my spoon in my coffee even though it had been thoroughly stirred a dozen times over.  Alfred and both of our tenants were away at work leaving the house and yard so very quiet and peaceful.  I knew that by this afternoon I would be craving some company but for now this was nice.  I always liked this time of day, even when Faith was growing up, everyone off to work or school leaving me with a few hours to just think and reflect.

I knew very well the luxury that this was and I did not take it for granted.  Alfred and I had made the decision together that I would be a stay at home housewife and, as far as I knew, neither of us had regretted that choice for a moment.  Sure, had I been working we could have bought a bigger house in a fancier neighborhood.  We could have nicer cars and gone on a few more overseas trips than we had.  But the trade offs were that our daughter was raised by her parents, not some daycare, we never got behind on the household chores, we were able to eat fresh and healthy home-cooked meals every meal, and that we had a lot more flexibility by only having only one work schedule to work around for our outings or vacations or what have you.  Not once, not one single time, had Alfred ever complained or dropped hints that he was dissatisfied with the arrangement.  And I couldn’t have been happier.  Now that Faith had grown up and moved on to college Alfred was my whole life.  And what a fine life it was.

Today my thoughts are lingering around sex, again.  It was a topic I honestly never thought about that much until recently.  It was a part of my marriage, a nice part, but not something I obsessed over.  But lately, gosh.  I’m not sure if it was because of our daughter moving out of the house giving us extra space and freedom or because I had read that women reached had their strongest sex drive in their late thirties and early forties or simply the tick-tick-tick of my biological clock but something had me thinking about it a lot more in the past year.  I found myself with newer, stronger urges.  I found myself blushing at the slightest attention from a handsome man, including a certain young Cody who now lived just across our back yard.  I found myself looking at my husband in ways, intensely hungry and desirous ways, that I hadn’t since the first blush of true love way back in high school.  And I found myself thinking about motherhood again even though Alfred and I decided long ago that one perfect daughter was enough for us.  When I was younger I felt at peace with that decision.  But now at 38, with the big 4-0 looming ever closer, I was starting to have second thoughts.

It was while I was stuck in a thought loop just like this that brash blonde bombshell Crystal had popped over for a visit yesterday.  That girl always put me off my guard.  The way she talked about sex was so much more blunt and out in the open than my girlfriends or the gals down at the pottery club.  Where usually those ladies would insinuate and talk suggestively around things Crystal just came out and said it.  And the way she talked about sex…it was like a foreign language me.

Crystal talked about great swells of passions and peaks of ecstasy.  She talked about doing things with her hands and her mouth and her…butt!  Even her feet for goodness sake.  She bragged up her boyfriend’s size and stamina.  She talked about Cody bringing her to orgasm in a dozen different ways.  She talked about wild and extended foreplay.  She talked about how with just his penis and penetrative sex he could take her to wailing climaxes but that he had so many more tools in his arsenal.  And she spoke about nightly sex.  She spoke about going at it for hours.  Hours!  Whole evenings or even days of sweaty coitus where they went at it until their bodies couldn’t go anymore.  As she spoke all sorts of naughty images came uninvited into my imagination.

When in turn the focus came to me I tried to evade and avoid but her precise and probing questions combined with flustered state wheedled answers out of me that were honest.  Too honest.  I never meant to say anything specific but way too much had slipped out.  Private stuff about about my husband that I had no business telling.  I told her that foreplay for us was some intense kissing and heavy petting and that sex was pretty much missionary position for maybe five or ten minutes with some really great snuggling afterward.  As far as we knew that’s just what sex was.  I told her that we made love about once a week, though sometimes a month might go by between sessions.  She was appalled at my account of our sex life.  She asked me if I ever orgasmed and I confessed that I did, though not very often, but that I made sure Alfred thought I did every single time.  And finally I showed her between two fingers how big I thought Alfred was, not even thinking much of the question until she laughed at it and said ‘That’s not even six inches’.  I didn’t like that part, though she did apologize afterward for laughing.  That’s when I realized what a mistake I had made in over sharing.  That’s also when Alfred just had to pick that moment to come home early.

On the bright side all that talk with Crystal had emboldened me once I got a couple of glasses of wine into me however.  That had been fun.  I smile as I remember the surprised expression on Alfred’s face as I came onto him.  And the even more bewildered look he gave me when I asked him how big he was.  And at how flummoxed he was when I asked him to hold out a little longer.  How many times had I wanted to ask Alfred to do that and never had the nerve?  Countless.  So many nights I had just needed a liiiittle bit more to tip over into true orgasm.  Having gathered the muster to speak it I do wish he’d been able to hold out longer.  I had always assumed he could have held it back a few more minutes but my request had only gotten me maybe ten extra thrusts.  But it sure was cute to watch him try!

Though surprised Alfred had not minded the change in me.  If anything, he really seemed to like it.  He was SO hard last night.  And he came so powerfully.  I knew I wasn’t much of a lover, so passive and self-conscious, but I still wanted to be sexy for my guy and make him happy.  If he liked that bold new Sarah maybe I ought to try it again sometime when I was feeling bold.  We were both virgins when we met, completely inexperienced and pure of the corrupting influence of pornography, so all we knew about sex is what we had discovered with each other.  Thanks to Cyrstal it was dawning on me just how much we still had to learn.

***

11:08 am

“Mom!”  Faith exclaims loud enough that I have pull the phone away from my ear for a second.  “Why did you tell Crystal that?”

“Well…she asked.”

“You’re almost twice her age, why are you trading bedroom stories with her at all?”

“Um…it was just…talk.  Girl talk.”

“Oh my God.  You are so…”  She groans.  “You know, I REALLY did not need to know that my Dad’s got a small dick.”

“Faith!”

“Or that he’s a premature ejaculator.”

“FAITH!  You watch your language young lady!  And you show your father some respect.”

“Me?  Me show him respect?  You’re the one blabbing about your so called sex life.”

“I…I didn’t mean to.”  I say as a wave of guilt washes over me.  “Oh gosh.  She’s…she’s not going to go around telling people, is she?”

“Nah.  Crystal’s not like that.  She’ll definitely tease me about it in private though.”

“Good.”  I say.  “And…I wouldn’t believe everything she says anyway.”

“Oh?”

I scoff.  “The stories she tells.  My goodness.  There’s no way they could be true.”

“Stories?”

“Yeah.  About her and Cody and all the…things they get up to.  The way he…makes her feel.  And…all that nasty stuff.”

Faith laughs.  “Trust me Mom.  Whatever she says about Cody, believe her.”

“What do you mean?”

“On campus he’s known simply as BDC.  Big Dick Cody.  Whatever you hear about him, believe it.”

“Oh my gosh.  Faith!”

“It’s true!”

“And how would you know?”

“How do you think?  First hand experience.”

“What!?”

“And what an experience!  I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face for a week.  I’m getting all flustered just thinking about it.”

“Golly!  I didn’t know Cody used to be your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend!?”  She snorts.  “You are so naive Mom.  Crystal and Cody have an open relationship.  Or they did.  They’re starting to settle down now.  Half the girls I know have had Cody.  He’s a ditz and a real sweetheart, but it’s not his brain or his heart that we’re interested in.  Ha!  He’s a bimbo through and through.”

“Oh my goodness.”  I say.  “These are the people you tell us to rent to?”

“What?  They’re good people.  They’re just…different than you and Dad.  A different lifestyle.”  She says.  “Didn’t you always say that we should accept people’s differences.”

“Well…yeah.”

“Exactly.  Judge not and all that shit.”

“Language!”

She chuckles.  “I gotta go Mom.  For Dad’s sake, and mine, no more confession sessions with Crystal.  Okay?”

“Don’t you worry about that.  I learned my gosh danged lesson.”

***

3:51 pm

I am standing at the sink washing vegetables for the ratatouille that I was making for supper tonight.  Staring down at the eggplants and zucchinis, feeling their wet texture as I ran them through my hands, my imagination returns once more to the carnal.

BDC.  Big Dick Cody.  When Crystal had told me about her boyfriend I thought it was just a tall tale to add a bit of extra spice to the conversation.  But now that Faith had confirmed it…I found myself thinking about it.  I had never given much thought about men being different sizes.  I kind of just assumed they were all roughly the same.  What did ‘big’ even mean when it came to penises?  Crystal had laughed when I showed her Alfred’s length, as if he were small, but I thought that I had heard somewhere that nearly all guys were right around six inches.

As I lay the vegetables out on a drying towel and notice the variety of shapes and sizes I start to wonder.  From the junk drawer I pull out a tape measure and to satisfy my curiosity I begin to measure.  I set the eggplants to the side and start on the smallest of the three zucchinis.

That couldn’t be right.  From the base of the stem to the tip the first one was six inches on the nose…and it was noticeably longer than Alfred.  Only by about an inch, but definitely longer.  A bit thicker too.  He fibbed to me when he said he was six, though in his defense he probably didn’t know.  I mean, who would just start measuring random body parts?  It hit me then.  My Alfred had a small penis!  That’s why Crystal had laughed when I showed her.  Golly, now I felt even more wretched for sharing that with her.

Crystal had been right about his size.  Was she right about the other stuff too?  Could her and Cody really make love for hours!?  Was my husband…a premature ejaculator?  Last night I had looked at the clock before and after our sex.  From entry to orgasm it was just over four minutes.  Was four minutes premature?  What exactly made an orgasm premature?  Did Alfred cum quickly…because he wasn’t having fun with me?  Was I doing something wrong?  Should I be using my mouth and bum and stuff too?  Should he?  It all seemed so lewd and dirty.  Gosh, I didn’t even know what to think anymore.

I measure the next one, six and half inches, and then the last one, just a smidgen over seven.  Golly!  The difference was only an inch between smallest to biggest with just a slight increase in thickness at each step but to my eye the contrast was striking.  My eyes linger on the largest.  Was that how big Cody was?  That was really big.  Taking the smallest one I move it over to lay it on top of the biggest, then pull it down an inch so that it was closer to Alfred’s size.

“Gosh.”  I whisper at how just two extra inches could dwarf one over the other in a direct comparison.  “Gosh, gosh, gosh.”  Still holding the smaller green vegetable I pick it up and hold it in a light grip, turning it left and right it to inspect it’s dimensions.  “So this is six inches.  This is an average guy.”

A hot flush rushes to my face, my nipples stiffen, and my vagina goes hot and moist as a terrible, nasty, perverted idea strikes me.  Even as I tell myself no the zucchini was already on its way down.  Right there in the kitchen I hoist my skirt up and slip the phallic veggie between my parted legs.  I pull my panties to the side and begin to rub the length along my moist lips, my breath shuddering as it dragged over my clit, then I angle it so that the tip of the organic dildo rubbed up and down my slit.  Oh my goodness I was wet!

“I can’t.”  I gasp as the tapered end centers at my entrance.  I’d never masturbated before.  And I had certainly never put anything that didn’t belong there inside of myself!  Yet, as I stare down at the largest of the three zucchinis and imagine it as a big, hard, erect penis, my fingers grip the stem and begin to push.  As wet as I was…it glides right in!

“Ohh!”

That…felt good.  Really, really good.  The smooth yet subtly grippy textured length penetrates and fills.  It wasn’t even halfway in and already the difference was noticeable.  The minor increase in girth did not feel so minor when it was pushing along the walls of my tight, sensitive coochie.  I grip the counter and continue to slide it upward and inward, all the way, until I feel it touch a place inside of me that my Alfred had never reached.

“Ohhhhhhh!”

For a moment I stand frozen with my breath held and my legs shaking as my married pussy squeezed down around its deeply probing trespasser.  It didn’t feel good anymore…it felt AMAZING!  Good golly I never would have believed just one extra inch and a tiny bit more thickness would feel so different and so, so, filling!  It didn’t just fill my tunnel as the warm, pleasurable sensations radiated from my vagina throughout my entire groin region.  My wide eyes still stare at the biggest of the green trio not even seeing it as a vegetable anymore.  To my lewd imagination these were all dicks now.  Hard, throbbing, living dicks.  My mouth waters and my wet pussy drools around the girth that was filling it so wonderfully.

More questions rage.  If just entry alone felt this good what would actually fucking it be like?  What would that big seven inch one feel like?  Even bigger.  Even thicker.  Would that one feel even better?  And all of these green garden treasures weren’t just bigger, they could last as loooong as I needed them to.  These dicks, these…cocks, would never fatigue prematurely.  I press the edible phallus just a bit deeper.  Ohhh gosh this feels gooooood!  And then…then I glance over at the gleaming purple-black skins of the long, fat eggplants.  GOSH!

“No!”  I gasp.

I pull the zucchini from my pussy, an involuntary peep escaping me as it leaves my tunnel, and I turn on the water full blast.  Under the hard spray I scrub it clean of my incriminating juices.

What had gotten into me!?  I’d just put a vegetable, a gosh darned vegetable, up in my privates!  A gosh darned zucchini had just touched me where my husband never had and filled me like he never could.  What kind of wife was I?

I put the zucchini back with the others then splash my face with the water.  Turning I lean back against the counter.  I dry my face with a dish towel then take a long, deep breath.  Filled with shame I reach under my dress and fix my panties then smooth out my skirt.  I take another long, deep breath then look over at the six inch intruder sitting there so smugly.

“Golly, golly, golly.”

Part 3