Maing Lemonade

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When life gives you a small cock -- make the best of that, too.

If you're looking for a small penis humiliation story, this isn't that. Try a different author. But you might find this interesting anyway.

___

College reunion time. I decided I'd go catch up with my group of old university friends, after all. As I entered the bar, the other girls crowded round me, eager for new gossip. The couple dozen guys acknowledged me from a distance.

"How ya doing, Kerry?"

"Hey, Kerry! Are you still with... What was their name?"

"You dumped him? Oh, too bad!"

"Well, you'll just have to distract yourself with someone new."

"Pick one of the men tonight!"

"Or go for a woman again, like you did in college!"

"I suppose women know how to wash, and not treat sport like a religion," Sonja mused.

"Find yourself a girl for the night!"

"Which is hardly an option, when I've known you all for years, and none of you girls are interested!" I managed to get a word in, over their enthusiasm. I loved my girlie friends, but sex wasn't on my radar tonight, at all.

So much for this lot distracting me from my horrible breakup of two weeks ago. At least Mazlina passed me a glass of fizz, in between giving me the third degree.

"You'll have to go back to men, then. You can't have gone through

all

of them!" Maz gestured at the guys in the background.

"Cheeky!" Out of the forty or so lads, I'd kissed one drunkenly, and shagged another, just as drunkenly, before mainly sticking to women for the next three years and some of of the few years after that. A few kisses and cuddles and, I admit it, another one-night stand -- that didn't really count, right?

But now I was single. And if I was only looking for a one-night stand, not a relationship where I'd have to put up with male lack of hygiene and laddishness and football obsession -- that last one was why I'd finally ditched my last male ex -- then there

were

several contenders. Quite a few of the guys inside the bar had made an effort to look their best.

Why not?

By the time I'd downed the third glass of prosecco foisted upon me, I was ready to get matched up. "Right, girls. Do your worst! Who's unattached, that you can recommend?

"Ooh! Now there's a question! Well. There's Jeremy..."

"Vain wazzock." No.

"Well, yeah, he's a prat," admitted Maz. "But anyone would be vain, if they looked like him." I wondered if Maz had slept with him. Or if he'd turned her down.

"Fair enough," I replied, "but while I'm shallow, I do want my men to have a

tiny

bit of personality. Jez just talks about himself all the time!"

"That could be remedied. What?" Maz giggled. "Ball gags exist, just saying..."

"

No

. Next contender?"

She shrugged. "Mark broke up with someone, a few weeks back?"

"No way," I said.

"Why? What's wrong with Mark? He likes you."

"I know." I sighed. "Been there, done that."

"Really? You sly dog! Don't want the same horse twice? Was he bad?"

I grimaced. "He wasn't

bad

. I suppose. But I wouldn't want to get his hopes up, and have him glomming onto me like an albatross for months on end. Again."

"Gotcha. Right. Oi, Sonja, Luci! Our Kerry needs to get her rocks off with one of the chaps. Who should we steer her towards?"

"Jez? No? Oh. Josh? Josh

would

, for sure. Reasonably house-trained, and that."

"Mm. Nah." I wasn't remotely interested in Josh. "No, I

haven't,

thank you! Just he's... I don't know? Too much of a masculine stereotype?"

"Fair," Sonja agreed. "He's not very enthusiastic about going down on girls."

"Well, then! Strike

him

off!" I definitely wasn't interested now!

Luci suggested Ollie, or Big Steve.

Sonja shrugged. "They'd be OK. I suppose. But Kerry's got standards. She's been with women! She's going to want more than a tweak of the tits, two minutes of fingering, then two minutes of getting poked in a weird circle."

"God!" Maz groaned. "What

is

it with guys who want to roll their hips in circles? I swear, it makes me dizzy!"

"And even when they swear blind they won't, and will just keep doing that good thing, a second later they're doing it! What is the point? Kerry, I don't blame you going for women. I'd be tempted myself. Apart from the, y'know, never fancied a woman thing." Sonja waved a hand and nearly knocked Luci's glass over.

I laughed. "Offer's open, if you'd like..." I knew she'd never take me up on it.

"No, love. No offence."

"None taken. Come on, I know only half of them are seeing anyone. Who else is there?" Maz and Sonja had stayed in the same city, so had kept in closer contact with everyone.

Sonja thought. "You don't want Boring Bob, for sure. Nor Quentin, who still hasn't mastered washing enough. Noah, maybe?"

Luci replied, "I know a girl who slept with Noah. He insisted on her talking to his cock like it was a person. 'Hello, Dick. Who's a big boy, then?'"

We all shuddered. "Cross off Noah," I said. "What about Dylan? Or Elliot?"

"Dylan's got a new girlfriend. She's nice, actually. And Elliot's practically married to that one he found in third year. How about Sam?"

"Which one?" Maz asked. "Not that it matters! Sam Jackson's come out as gay, finally, and Sam Peel had a mental breakdown and isn't here. Had a spell in the psych unit, poor sod."

"Oh, poor Sam P.! I hope he recovers. He was always a sweetheart. And no, Sam J. being gay can't be a surprise to anyone, surely?"

"You'd have thought," Maz agreed with me, "but Luci here hadn't realised! Nor had most of the lads, they say."

"He slept with

me!

I'm not so bad I could put a man off women completely!" Luci, defensive, tried to distract us from grilling her further. "There's Tom? He's a fine-looking specimen."

Maz giggled. "Only if you can keep a straight face when he goes dead serious and intones, 'Tom's putting it in now!' See, you can't. Pretentious prat."

"Come on! Between you and the rest of the female population of the city,

one

of them must have learnt to satisfy a woman!" I really wanted a shag, now they'd got me thinking about it!

Luci considered. "Hm. I suppose there's Little Steve? I think he's single, now?"

Sonja murmured agreement. "Good call. He's still not in a relationship, since that girl he split with last year. He might be your best bet?"

"You sound damning with faint praise! He's a sweetie, isn't he?" I'd always rather liked 'Little Steve'.

The guy was about six-two, slim but not thin, his spiky dark hair not yet greying and only barely receding at the temples. His bright blue eyes always sparkled with naughtiness. He was called 'Little Steve' because he was taller yet narrower than 'Big Steve', who was built like a brick outhouse and dwarfed the original 'Just Steve'. Or so I'd always assumed.

"Oh, yeah," Maz said. "Really lovely guy, Steve. Just..."

"

What?"

It sounded like there was a catch.

Sonja rolled her eyes. "Yes, lovely chap. But if you want a good dicking, he's not really your guy."

"Why? Can't he get it up?"

"Sure. Just, there's a reason they call him 'Little' Steve," Luci spoke meaningfully into my ear.

"Needle Dick Guy," Jen added. "Seriously. Or so I'm told!"

"Yeah, but..." Maz interrupted. "He's actually good in bed!"

"True," Sonja said. "I mean, if you don't care about the cock being thumb-sized. He does actually know how to pleasure a woman!"

"Really?"

"Well, to start with. I suppose it got about four inches long. But not much fatter."

"Yeah, yeah," Maz said. "But you won't

care!

Especially you, Kerry. I mean, women don't have cocks at all, right?"

"You're saying he has a mouth and hands? And actually uses them?" Enthusiasm there would be a first from a man, in my experience.

Maz grinned. "Hell yes, lady! Really, trust me. Come on, Sonja! You had him once. Wasn't he good?"

Sonja shrugged. "I suppose. It's just, I really wanted to be well fucked."

Maz made a closed-mouthed smile. "He's worked on that. You did him in first year, right?"

"He got better?"

"All I'm saying, is that by the end of third year, he might be the best lover I ever had." Mazlina stopped talking.

"What's that?" Janice and Casey had wandered over.

"Maz says Little Steve is underestimated as a lover. What do you reckon?" I asked.

"Oh man!" Janice swooned. "If I was still single, oh yes! I'd be on it like a car bonnet! Mm-hm!"

"I hear he's got a tiny cock?"

"Oh, yeah, that's true. Well. People

say.

Not been there, myself. But trust me, Kerry, they say he makes up for it! You're an open-minded lass, right? Huh? So. Anything your women can do, he'll do. Hell, yeah!"

Casey just blushed.

"Have you got an educated opinion on the matter, too?" I quizzed her.

"Well... I agree with Jan. Maybe even Maz. He's an imaginative chap." She folded her arms when the others tried to interrogate her. "He makes the best of what he's got, is all I'm saying."

At this point, the man himself wandered out onto the pub terrace, three other chaps behind him. "How's it going, ladies?"

"Ah, Steve! The man we've been waiting for!" Maz called out.

"Oh, aye?" Over six foot of tall lean dude in ironed shirt leaned against the wall and raised one dark eyebrow. It suited him, along with his new styled stubble.

"We were just telling Kerry, how if she's going to be all lonely in her hotel room tonight, she needs a good man to look after her. Right, mate? And Casey and Maz and I reckoned you might just be just that good man. Give her a proper seeing-to, and that."

I was impressed by Janice's coherent argument. She'd had at least five cocktails.

Little Steve, as ever, remained calm, but he was clearly pleased by the implied compliments. Men don't get enough compliments, usually.

"Well, Kerry. It's lovely to see you again." He gave me a big hug and a flirtatious double kiss, but then that was typical Steve. "If you

were

needing companionship, it would be churlish of me not to oblige!" He took my hand and kissed the back of it. "It would be my pleasure, as a gentleman." Suddenly conscious of the group of raucous drunk women around him, his confidence dwindled. "Just saying, like."

"You are one incorrigible flirt," I told him, as I'd done many a time during college. Like most of the lads, he'd grown into his body since graduation. Still young and good-looking, but moving with more confidence. I wouldn't mention the pair of silver hairs I could see among the lush black. I gave him my best welcoming smile, which he appreciated.

"And? Never denied it, pet. But it doesn't matter, I'd still happily spend the night with you, any time." He indicated all down his body. "Tall, dark and handsome, what's not to like, love?" He paused his blarney. "If you actually wanted, and it's not just these friends thinking you should." He racked his brains for memories. "Didn't you have that bloke? No, a girlfriend? I wouldn't want to intrude..."

"Bollocks you wouldn't," Janice cackled. "You'd

love

to be lying between Kerry and another woman!"

Steve blushed, guilty as charged.

"We broke up," I told him, to shut Janice up.

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. Oh, it was good while it lasted, but it's over now."

"You lost it somehow? Ah, well, still never fun, is it?"

"No. Anyway. Good to see you." I indicated my empty glass, and started to meander back inside, away from the girls.

I was surprised, ten minutes later, when Steve reappeared. He appeared to catch up by coincidence, as he walked in my direction.

"Hey, Kerry?"

"Stevie! How are you, now we don't have my posse of wing-women hovering?" I put my drink down, to hug him again.

"I'm good. It's nice to see you. Really. Whether or

not

you'd be remotely interested. I'm not a guy who stops being friends with a girl, just because she doesn't want to shag me. I can cope with rejection, don't you worry about that."

A bloke who actually had female friends was usually a good sign. We chatted a bit, just like we'd done as students. He'd been a reasonably close friend, though I hadn't seen him in the last couple years.

Steve was planning to mingle again, and made some teasing comment about the hardship of leaving me.

I had to tell the tart, "Seriously, love, I know you flirt with me, but you flirt with practically

everyone

! How am I to know you're

actually

interested?"

He winced. "I actually

am

? Not just because I'm single and so are you, but y'know, you're

you

. Why not? There's not actually

that

many women who are interested, once... Well. Anyway, if I just want a shag, I need to aim wide, but you -- if

you

would...?"

Steve paused, seeking words to convince me that he wasn't just looking for any old place to lodge his cock for the night. "I hadn't known you were looking, but now? That would be my top answer for tonight, you could say."

For once, he wasn't grinning cheekily at me. He must be

serious

.

I concealed my own sudden cheeky-grin reaction. Hallelujah! A half-decent fuck might actually happen this evening!

"I've heard some good things," I told him. "If it turns out you've

actually

got as good hands and mouth as a woman, I imagine we could avoid being bored."

Steve -- I

must

stop thinking of him as Little Steve -- blushed. In relief? We nodded conspiratorially at each other, both of us breaking into grins.

Actual sex! I trusted Maz's opinion. This should be a fun night -- no matter what the size of Steve's cock!

We each made a couple circuits of the crowd, catching up and exchanging contacts with everyone, before taking our leave. Separately, of course, to avoid the worst of the gossip hounds! We converged outside, in the car park.

"Where are you staying?" I asked him.

"Travelodge. But the room's cancellable."

"Premier Inn, non-refundable."

"To yours, then."

I nodded. He phoned as we walked, having grabbed his bag from his car. We went up to my room, still trying to look casual in case anyone we knew was watching.

I opened the door and gestured him in. Privacy!

As soon as I stepped inside, Steve smiled at me, more shyly than his usual coquettish charisma. He raised one hand to cup my face, then bent over to kiss me.

Being nearly a foot taller than me, I expected kissing to be uncomfortable with him. But it seemed to work remarkably well. He held my body to his and ate my face carefully. Almost delicately, but enthusiasm turned up to the max. It made me equally enthusiastic. I let my hands run down his back, over his smooth cotton shirt. One hand stopped at the belt; my other just had to grope that firm arse, which I'd admired quietly for so long.

His bum was perfect to grab, but somehow it was lower down than I'd expected, seeing how much taller he was.

I glanced at his legs. Bent knees, almost in a crouch. That couldn't be easy for him, surely? Even if eating my lips and face was distracting him. "Come on," I told Steve, pulling his arm. "Let's be comfortable."

"You want to do this, then?" he asked.

"I'm told you know how to entertain a woman." I did

not

tell him what else all the girls had told me about him. He must know.

"Let me-ee entertain you," he intoned, twirling on one foot and stumbling. "Just call me Fred Astaire." He attempted a tap dance.

"We'll be charitable, and assume that was meant to be a parody." I laughed.

"Who says romance is dead?" But he grinned, too. This was casual sex -- neither of us were trying to be romantic.

I sat back on the hotel bed, adjusting the lighting to be less garish.

Steve clambered up to straddle my legs. He leant forward, looking into my eyes for consent. He pinched the sides of my slinky top and pulled the delicate fabric upwards. I leaned away from the pillows, to assist.

A smile, once he removed it. He didn't immediately dive for my bra catch, but continued kissing me, now including my bare arms, shoulders, cleavage, one on my navel, his chin scrubbing my tummy...

For my part, I clung onto him, seeing as his backside was right under my hands. Pretty solid. Lots of muscle. I shoved a hand inside those smart trousers. I hadn't meant to, but fabric friction meant my fingers went under, rather than over, his underwear.

My fingertips were squashed tight against his lightly-furry arse. Oh dear, how sad. Men's bottoms really are wonderful. So are women's, of course; just different.

Steve wriggled. He kept up his little kisses and nuzzling all over me. This wasn't just token foreplay. The lad was definitely enjoying himself, actually wanting to know how I felt and tasted all over.

Which led me to thinking about how and where I'd like to

be

tasted. I hoped he'd be up for that.

While Steve nuzzled the smooth skin of my cleavage, I wriggled my hands under my back to undo my bra. He helped lift my shoulders and get the contraption off my arms; all practical, until he looked back at my breasts. His big smile was genuine. "Oh,

wow!"

The guy spent a good ten minutes or more playing with said breasts, each a good handful of smooth squishiness which he enjoyed squeezing gently -- and less gently, until I had to tell him to cool it. It was great having someone actually give my nipples the attention they wanted -- sucking and pinching both of them, swapping from one to the other, glancing up to see how I was reacting, and keeping going while I tried to make it as clear as possible that that was what I wanted.

You'd think moans of 'God, yes! Don't stop!' would be sufficient communication, but too many men think of breasts as boxes to tick, on their way towards getting their cock inside you.

For my part, besides boosting Steve's ego by confirming he was doing well, I was stroking his back and scratching the back of his neck. Also fiddling with his soft earlobes, once a groan, "oh, yeah!" proved how much he liked it. I ran my finger along the edge of his ear, provoking gasps.

Then I had to drop it -- his vigorous slurp, sucking in an inch all round my nipple, triggered me to arch my pelvis into him. Too much distraction!

Steve sat back. Both of us grinned.

We were both experienced adults. We knew where this was going. And knew that it didn't matter how long we took to get there, either. I reached up to his shirt buttons; he accelerated the process of getting the shirt off.

I must have seen him topless before, when he was younger, but I couldn't really remember. Now, I liked what I saw. Steve had a long torso, a bit of muscle on his arms. A nice chest. It had a dusting of dark hair -- subtle, not a rug. I'm not saying he'd ever make it as a model, but it was a fine, perfectly satisfactory, body.

Especially when lowered onto mine. I felt the extra direct warmth, as he kissed down further. He left one hand over a breast, pleasurable in a mild way, while he applied his mouth to my arms, my tummy, and back round my breasts. I managed to play with his ears and hair.

His face on my belly was sweet, but I was getting impatient. I forced my hands under his chest, so I could unfasten my black slacks.

Steve lifted his head, beamed at me, and pulled them down.

He didn't immediately move to pull my underpants down. Rather, he felt me up, through the thin, now damp, fabric.

Then he put his face there.

Being nuzzled through the cloth was pleasant enough, but it wasn't doing it!

He looked up. "Do you like being eaten?"

I growled, "Is the Pope fucking

Catholic?"

"OK, OK! Keep your hair on! Oh, you mostly haven't," he added, having finally tugged my briefs out of the way with me helping. I'd tidied up my pubis that morning. Partly, I admit, in hope of someone shoving their face in it.

"Ha, ha. Go on, show off."

I'd just meant to make it totally clear I really did want his mouth on my cunt. To my surprise, Steve gave me a huge grin -- smug, even -- and got his face down there.