The Torments of Love Lies and Sex

Preface

As this is a continuation of an existing story, it will be difficult for the reader to fully appreciate the events and emotions witnessed in this installment without reading the first entry. In this chapter, I focus on the interaction between the married couple Tom and Alice and explore topics such as trust, rage, penis size insecurity, and how past experiences affect the way we view and how we treat our partner. Anyone who has had a bitter fight with a loved partner and then felt regret may empathize with the characters in this chapter.

This is not page after page of sex because for me, sex only is stirring when it happens within a well developed context and between people that I have some emotional connection with. Thus, my stories usually spend more time building characters and situations where sex plays a part, but it isn't even always the most important part.

With that warning in mind, I hope you enjoy part two of this three part series

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It had been three weeks since that eventful day when I last met Hanna and Carly for coffee and all the details of what happened between my husband and my best friend were revealed. Since then, I had spent many hours trying to process all that information and all those emotions, and I had come to peace with everything that had happened. It was in the past and I needed to focus on the present, building a life with the man I was in love with.

The topic of my husband Tom's penis and the promise I made to the girls that I would bring a dick pic to our next coffee meeting had slipped to the back of my mind, but with that meeting happening tomorrow, it was all coming back to me. I'm sure Hanna would never have mentioned the absence of the picture, but Carly was insistent that I bring the promised photo and she would never drop the subject if I failed to produce.

I am a modern, well educated woman who is liberated and socially aware. I support the #MeToo movement and herald inclusivity for all races and genders. I know that a man is not defined by the size of his cock and there are many more important attributes that make a person a great partner. The size of his dick doesn't even rank in the top 25 important characteristics, so why then was I embarrassed about the size of Tom's penis.

I guess 50,000 years of evolution can't be completely displaced by modern rationalizations. I think that the reptilian part of my brain still associates a large penis and testicles with fertility and masculinity, and that was critical to choosing a mate when we had just come down from the trees thousands of years ago. The thinking part of my brain said Tom's penis size was not significant, but the ancient part that operates by instinct told me that Tom was deficient in this regard. I wasn't proud of myself for it, but I was unsatisfied with Tom's endowment and embarrassed for him. Also, being competitive, I didn't want to have the smallest house, cheapest car, lowest education, or smallest dick within my friend group. Call me shallow, but that's how I felt. I'm just being honest at my own expense.

Of course, I always hid my feelings of dissatisfaction from Tom. I didn't lie and tell him that he had a big dick. He's no idiot and he would find that false and humiliating. I just acted like Tom was average and it was no big deal, that is, except for the first time I saw his prick. That was awful and while Tom and I pretend like that evening never happened, I feel it still hangs over us like an ugly memory that you can't erase from the back of your mind.

Before the first time I saw Tom nude, he and I had been together for about a month. We had been on a number of dates and things had progressed to French kissing and heavy petting. In my past life, I was usually in bed with the guy on my first date, but I didn't want to remind Tom of how promiscuous I had been, so I let him make the moves. To my frustration, he moved slowly.

After one particularly enjoyable date, Tom came back to my bedroom and we got into some rather intense kissing with hands going everywhere. I decided that it was time, if not for fucking, at least to reward this wonderful man with a blowjob. While we kissed, I reached for his belt buckle and started to undo it. His hands immediately covered mine and he broke away from our kiss.

"You don't have to do that," he whispered breathlessly.

"I want to do it," I replied, just as breathlessly. I felt him tense up, so I leaned back, pulled my shirt off, removed my bra, and placed his hand directly on my breasts. This was the first time he had seen my tits and laid hands upon their naked flesh. I was pretty sure his hands weren't going to be a problem any more. I got his belt open, his pants unbuttoned, and started to unzip his fly. I felt him push away from me so I looked into his eyes, trying to figure out what the problem was.

"We don't have to go too fast. I don't want to rush you," he stammered nervously. God, you'd think he was a virgin or something, but I was super horney now and I wasn't stopping until I had his cum in my mouth.

"It's not too fast Tom. Don't you want to feel these lips wrapped around your cock?" I cooed seductively. I licked my lips and kissed him hard while I finished undoing his fly. Then I got off the bed and squatted in front of him, grabbed his pants on either side, and pulled hard. Tom lifted his hips and the pants slid forward. Because I pulled so hard and his pants came off easily, and also because of half a bottle of wine I had consumed, I fell backward onto the floor as his pants reached his ankles. A little embarrassed at my clumsiness at such an intimate moment, I chuckled as I got back on my haunches in front of my man, ready to deliver the world's most awesome blowjob.

I grabbed his boxers but once again, his hands grasped mine. I looked up, confused and tried to understand the trepidation written all over his face. "It's OK baby. You're safe with me," I reassured, and then, with one quick jerk, pulled the boxers down to his ankles. I was anxious to see what his dick looked like, discover what it tasted like, and at last, there it stood, fully erect and pointing straight up, surrounded by a thick patch of curly brown hair.

I let out a breath, transfixed, and just gawked at Tom's erection, because it was so damn small. The juxtaposition of Tom's well toned and averaged sized body with this little tiny cock was so strange to see and so unexpected, that I just found it funny.

"Oh my God, are you serious?" I blurted out with a ridiculous grin on my face. I stared at Tom's penis, which immediately began to shrink, and I don't know why, but all I could think about was an arcade game I played as a kid called Whac-a-Mole. I saw myself holding the big fuzzy hammer and Tom's dick popping up from one hole or another with me trying to bat it down with the hammer. The vision was both ludacris and hilarious and I bit my tongue to stop from laughing.

I'm not an insensitive bitch, I really liked Tom, and I knew that men could be self conscious about the size of their penises, but the wine, the shock, the odd mismatch of size, and the thoughts of Whac-a-Mole were just too much. Trying not to laugh when you know it's very inappropriate can make stifling the laugh nearly impossible. I looked away, covered my mouth, tried to contain it, but lost the battle and broke into a full out belly laugh. I rolled back onto my ass, covered my face, and tried desperately to regain my composure.

I heard Tom say something like, "I'm sorry," and when I looked up, tears of laughter filling my eyes, he had stood up and was frantically trying to pull up his pants. Unfortunately, his underwear were around his knees and in his panic, he couldn't quite figure out how to get his pants up over them. He lost his balance and fell back onto the bed. It was like watching slapstick comedy and I roared with laughter again.

"Tom, relax, I'm sorry but it's..." I didn't get to finish my sentence because Tom, now mostly dressed, hurried through my bedroom door without uttering another word. I sat there for a few seconds regaining my composure, and reflected on the last 60 seconds. "Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! You're such an idiot!" I said to myself. As I searched for my shirt and quickly put it on, I started to think about how vulnerable Tom was at that moment, how frightened he looked, and how much my reaction must have hurt. I ran out the door desperate to find Tom and make amends. I now felt like a total shit and nothing about what just happened seemed funny anymore.

I ran to the bathroom door which was closed and locked, and knocked saying, "Tom, it's not what you think. I was laughing because I fell on my ass. I wasn't laughing at you. Tom, open the door. Come back to the bedroom with me. I want to finish what we started. Tom!"

I heard the door unlock and then it opened. To my shock, I saw Hanna standing on the other side, nude. Fuck, is he going to run to her every time we have a problem. "I need to talk to Tom," I demanded.

"What? Tom's not in here. I was about to step into the shower."

"Hanna! I need to talk to Tom," I insisted and pushed the door wide open to see if she already had his pants down and his dick hard. My mind immediately went back to four weeks ago when she gave my boyfriend a handjob the night he brought me home.

"Look for yourself," Hanna said as she took a step backward. I stepped into the bathroom and Tom was not there. Then where the fuck was he? "What's going on Alice? What happened?" I heard my best friend call after me as I rushed down the stairs.

I caught up with Tom about a block and a half from my home. When I called to him, he didn't stop walking or look back at me. When I reached him, I took his arm with both hands, but he just stared straight ahead and kept walking. It was dark, but in the glow of the streetlights, I thought I saw wetness in his eyes. I pressed my head against his shoulder and just walked with him. I would have walked all night if that's what he wanted. I felt so bad, but just didn't know what to say or if I should say anything until he acknowledged me.

After walking silently for a few minutes, we reached a small park with a bench. He led me to the bench and we both sat down, facing each other. I could see the pain and the fear in his face and I so much regretted causing this distress. He looked down, gathered his strength, and then stared into my eyes. He said in a defeated voice, "I'm sorry. I know you're disappointed. I won't call you again if you don't want me to."

My emotions overwhelmed me at that moment and I felt a lump in my throat. I buried my face in his shoulder and almost cried. He was apologizing to me for having a small penis. After what had just happened, he was taking the blame and making me innocent of any misdeed. I really didn't know how to feel, but from deep inside my soul, I did feel two emotions begin to surface. I felt love for this man who was so generous and forgiving, and I felt guilt for how I had humiliated him.

I believed we had a lot of trauma to work through together so, with some effort, I coaxed Tom back to my bedroom. Once settled and feeling somewhat reassured, he told me about the struggles he had endured as a youth, teen, and husband because of his penis. The stories he told made me alternately furious and sad. His step-father was casually cruel, his brother was verbally brutal, teenage girls can be thoughtless, and I would burn his first wife at the stake if I had the chance. It was no wonder he was self conscious about his body.

After we talked and I felt that I really understood Tom's insecurity and self doubt regarding his genitalia, I decided to try and fix things as best I could. I took his face in my hands and looked directly into his eyes. "I know I hurt you tonight and I am so sorry, but I'm going to ask you to trust me now. I won't hurt you again. I promise. Can you trust me?" I pleaded.

Tom nodded, so I took him into the bathroom and, with love and support, I removed all his clothes. Then I got the scissors and trimmed that ample bush he had growing around his prick. I cut his pubic hair short all around the base of his dick and on his balls. At times, he was embarrassed and flushed red, but at other times he was hard so I know it wasn't all bad. By the time I was done, he looked noticeably bigger. It's true that large amounts of pubic hair make the dick look smaller. Tom looked pleased with the result and I exaggerated the beneficial effect of the trim to bolster his self confidence.

Next, I stripped and took Tom into the shower with me. I washed him thoroughly, not omitting a single square inch of his body. I didn't let him touch me though. I had big plans for the night. After drying us both off, I led my lover to my bed where for three hours, I ravished him.

On that night, I made Tom's cock my God and I was his priestess. I didn't play with his cock, I worshiped it. I licked it, sucked it, teased it, and edged him mercilessly. I used my lips, my tongue, my hands, my nipples, my breasts and every other part of me to caress his rigid cock. I made him moan, squirm, thrust, and beg for release over and over.

Finally, when I thought he couldn't wait any longer, I took him into my mouth and worked my tongue over his frenulum and the head of his cock until he literally exploded, filling my mouth with his seed. I sucked until he was completely spent, and then I let his softening dick slide from between my lips. I crawled up his body until we were face to face. He stared at me, not knowing what was coming next.

Without making a sound, I opened my mouth and showed him his own cum while I moved it around with my tongue. He didn't move. He just watched as I closed my mouth, smiled, swallowed, and then opened my mouth again to show him what I had done. I wanted him to know that I had taken his seed into my body and was happy to do it. He grinned, like I had given him a precious gift, and then he leaned forward and kissed me, deeply, with tongue, tasting his own cum in my mouth. The sense of bonding I felt, we both felt, was miraculous.

For the next few hours, I did everything to him that an experienced whore might do while he did everything to me that a gentle and loving man could do. There were periods of frenzied sex, followed by periods of rest, but I wasn't going to let Tom get any sleep that night. Over and over again, we made love, furious, passionate, heartfelt love. I let him enter me in every position I knew, but didn't let him cum until he was ready to pass out. By the time we were done, I left him exhausted and satisfied, having proven to him that the thing he was so embarrassed about was no problem for me.

I was in love with Tom and I needed him to be both happy and confident, so where necessary, I deceived. I faked some orgasms during intercourse, but had real ones during cunnylingus and fingering. I was never going to admit to Tom that he couldn't make me cum with straight fucking. At least, that's what I promised myself that evening.

The event I just described occurred three years ago. The problem with people is that we forget. We forget how much we love someone. We forget their sensitivities and how easily we can hurt them. We forget our mistakes of the past and as such, we are destined to repeat them. Of that, I am guilty.

Tomorrow, I was expected to show my best friends pictures of my husband's dick. All day long I was anxious both because I was embarrassed by the size of his penis and the fact that I didn't have a single pic to show. I had been with many men and I really did enjoy sex far more when the dick was both long and quite thick. I knew what Hanna and Carly would think when they saw what I had to be satisfied with now and I didn't want to see any expressions of pity on their faces. As I have already told, I never came from intercourse with my husband. Cunnylingus while I rubbed my clit was the usual way he got me off. If I were to be honest with myself, I missed the feeling of a big thick cock inside me. That feeling of being stretched to the limit, where it hurt so good and you can feel his orgasm because he stretches you just a little more with each pulse of his ejaculation. I was good at faking it though because Tom always made the effort and seemed pleased that he'd satisfied me, even when, in reality, he left me completely wanting.

Marriage has many facets and you're never going to get everything you want. Compromises are necessary so let's face it. I loved Tom heart and soul; I didn't marry him because of his cock.

But I told the girls I had dick pics and promised to bring them to our next coffee, so to cover my lie, I needed to take a few. I just had to figure out how I was going to manage that as Tom was very private and would never agree to me showing pictures of his dick to my friends.

On top of everything else, the timing couldn't have been worse. I was already so stressed, I felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark. On Monday, I got a speeding ticket that I hadn't told Tom about yet. I dreaded having to endure another lengthy lecture about responsible driving. I am not a fucking child, but sometimes he treats me like one and it drives me crazy. Then I burned my hand taking food out of the oven and that's going to leave a small scar. Finally, and worst of all, Tom broke the vase my mother gave me on my 21st birthday. I told him, "Use two hands, it's heavy," but no, he's so strong that one hand was enough. When I heard the vase hit the floor, I screamed. While we swept up the pieces of shattered crystal, I cried. It was the last gift I received from my Mom before she died.

I knew it was an accident and Tom really did feel awful. He apologized a hundred times, but his apologies weren't going to restore this precious vase and I wasn't going to forgive him so quickly for such a careless mistake. I didn't speak to him for a full day and didn't let him touch me for three more. Even though I still wasn't over it, I needed to take this damn picture for the girls. Time to suck it up and have sex I really don't feel like having.

As we were getting ready for bed that night, I told Tom that I forgave him for the vase and wanted to make love. He was so happy, so relieved, and I quickly got him good and hard, but that didn't take much. I could get Tom hard with just a suggestive look. Like a young boy, his dick jumped to attention with the slightest tease. I told Tom to lie naked on the bed and stroke his dick while I stripped and peed. I wanted him as pumped up as possible for the photo. I knew we were going to lose the dick size contest, I just didn't want to get laughed out of the park. I walked seductively from the bathroom into the bedroom wearing nothing but a bit of perfume.

"What are you holding?" he asked attentively, thinking that maybe I had some sex toy I wanted to spice things up with.

"Just my phone," I replied, trying to act like it was no big deal. "Lie back baby and close your eyes. I'm going to make you feel so good," I whispered in my most sultry voice. Then I started working his cock with my hands and mouth, wanting to take him to the edge so his erection would be at its maximum size and hardness. I sucked and licked and teased his cock, pressing down firmly with my fingers on either side near the base. The pressure there prevented blood from flowing out of his erection so he throbbed and bobbed with each heartbeat. It also made his cock look a bit longer and every millimeter counted for the photo. Tom was moaning and I knew I could make him cum with just a few strokes inside my mouth.

"Don't open your eyes baby until it's over. Just think about how your cock feels sliding down my throat. Think of how good you taste. Think about me swallowing your cum." He wasn't getting any harder than he was right then, so with my free hand, I picked up my phone, which I had strategically laid beside Tom's hip, and took a picture.