My wife of 5 years and I were on a trip through Europe. We had found a great tour guide, Sid, an expat American who had been living abroad for about 30 years. Former CIA or so he claimed, spoke 10 languages. He told a lot of tall tales but Sid was a genuinely charming guy who knew his way around people. He was in his early 60s but you could tell he had been a handsome guy, with intelligent eyes and quietly confident smile.
The old guy was great at his job: incredibly funny and always laughing, coupled with an uncanny ability to exert a natural authority over people when needed. He did not raise his voice or act arrogant, but when he asked you do to something, you felt gladly compelled to obey him. I saw him haggle down shopkeepers, and quite a few times he argued calmly but firmly with waiters when they attempted to overcharge.
He was a charmer as I said and he made many overtures to Karen, kissing her hand, constantly praising the beautiful lady. I took this in stride as he was an old man and I am in my early thirties, handsome with a great body and great job. I felt I had nothing to fear from Sid so I didn't get annoyed when he joined us for every meal, even romantic ones. His presence also kept me from getting intimate with my wife, as after each dinner he would take us out to bars and insist on drinking me under the table.
The fourth day something strange happened. We were touring some old Roman ruins and I had to use the gents. As I sidled up to the urinal, I heard Sid enter and clasp his hand on my shoulder as he joined me at my side. The urinal was one of those old trough-style fixtures as opposed to separate toilets. There were no dividers and little privacy. I heard his stream join then drown out mine.
I thought it kind of strange that he chose to stand right next to me in the middle as opposed to going to the opposite side and giving me space. It felt like he was breaking an unspoken 'guy rule' but of course I couldn't say anything.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I couldn't help but look. He had one of the biggest penises I'd ever seen in my life! Damn thing seemed to hang down to his knees. It unfurled from a thick bed of gray and white pubic hair, and must have been at least five or six inches soft, very thick, white and purple veined. Ugly as sin, offensively ugly, obscenely ugly, yet I couldn't take my eyes off it.
Suddenly I realized that I was staring, and that he had caught me. He had a huge smile on his face, and I saw him look from my penis to his. My gaze followed. Man, he was much larger than me, and his face showed it. Nothing needed to be said, it was clear where we stood on the male hierarchy. I felt my face bloom in red-faced embarrassment and suddenly became too self-conscious to finish urinating. I stuffed my penis, which looked like a child's compared to his, into my trousers and turned to the sinks. As I made a beeline to the exit, I cursed to myself, as a thick stream of pee noticeably had trickled down my thigh.
As we left the rest room and headed to the market, Sid leaned into my conspiratorily and whispered,
"Hey buddy I know it's big and scary but it's no reason to pee yourself." And clapped my shoulder again. His words were half encouragement and reassurance to not feel bad, and half ridicule. I chuckled along sheepishly. I was a little miffed that a guy I was paying, basically my employee, was teasing me like that, but I wanted to be good natured about it.
Later that afternoon Sid brought us to an old Roman style bath. Karen was delighted and said goodbye to us men as she went to the women's section for a full spa treatment. Sid led me into the men's section, and I turned to change into a towel. I did not want to see his big ugly cock again-once was enough. Plus I didn't want him, or any man really, seeing my smaller endowment. I had always hidden it, even from friends growing up and while playing sports.
Sid grabbed my arm to get me moving into the baths. He was very touchy feely in a way that I feel I couldn't call him out for- that if I did it would make me seem like the weird one, for being self-conscious. I thought about it for a moment, and recounted all of the times throughout the past four days that he had casually touched me. Pats on the shoulder, back, even a few playful slaps to my ass. Now as I walked at his side behind him, naked but for a towel around my waist, looking at his broad, hairy back, thick hairy legs, I almost felt like a kid following his Dad around.
