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Little Things Kill Ch. 01

By: Lumberjacked



When my wife and I first started dating we had what few couples can claim, a lack mutual lack of relationship experience. The extent of her sexual journey included one boyfriend of three years. For myself, outside of a few brief flings (none of which involved intercourse), I was nearly a blank slate. But after ten years of intense sexual exploration with each other, we both filled in the many blanks on our sexual resume. Adventurous, daring and at times dangerous episodes dotted our time together, and marriage, thankfully and abnormally, has only increased out appetites for each other. 

We have a mutual lust for both dominant and submissive rolls in the bed. More than once the subject of penis size entered out escapades and she took incredible satisfaction in teasing me, but I'd always return the favor. Her breasts, pert, spunky and very nicely formed to her body, are just below a B cup. We spent many nights having passionate sex to my sweet whispers in her ear, goading her to think about our female friends, of which we have many, and the fact that even the smallest of them is still at least a cup size larger than her. She obsessed over the thought of me, her committed and faithful husband obsessing over other woman's breasts. 

Things escalated from there, with me instructing her to wear the tightest sports bra's she owned when we went out drinking with everyone, to ensure that she was as flat as possible. I'd pass the night with her, drunkenly talking at times much louder than I should have. I'd ask if she felt small and inadequate and like a little girl, sitting there in her sports bra. I'd describe our friends to her, describe how their larger chests made them more confident, more woman like and ultimately more desirable than her. She would nervously laugh, hoping they weren't listening but secretly hoping they were. Being dominated, at least at this time, was the best aphrodisiac I could give her. 

For her part, she's begun teasing me about my size as well. The problem with this is that from her perspective, she hadn't really understood where I stood in comparison with other men. I'm not small but I'm not on the large side of average either. Luckily for me, the only comparison that she had was her ex boyfriend, and one brief fling she had when we first started dating. The fling wasn't memorable enough for her to remember and her ex-boyfriend she admitted was longer than me but not nearly as thick. At a little less than 4" in girth and just under 5" in length, she had not only always been content with my size, but pleased. Of course she's watched movies, she understands that there are larger men, but her exposure had been limited so she was able, for a long time, to write off the images that she saw as the by product of the fake world of movies. After all, if nearly every woman she saw in a movie or porno had D cup breasts, there was little doubt that the men's sizes were 'enhanced' as well.

Her opinions started to change though once she decided to take our sexual flirting to the next level. I had always been content teasing her and making her crazy in our own little world, begging her to wear small outfits and slightly revealing clothing in an effort to passively make her feel inferior. It worked incredibly well, driving her crazy whenever I did it. But when it came to me she had, from the onset, a desire to be aggressive in her teasing, in her approach to make me feel like she had, both inadequate and aroused at the same time. 

It began with a work friend, like it always seems to. Terry was sort of her boss but more just like a supervisor. I had worked with Terry years before at another job so we were all friends. Her husband was a nice, if not bland guy that I shared drinks with at various Christmas parties over thee years. Terry had always been a bit of a turn on for my wife. Terry had that sleek, styled working lady appearance to her. Her long, streaked hair was always pulled back into a no nonsense ponytail, her makeup never a step below flawless. Her outfits, a range from high black boots and tight knee length skirts, to pinstriped suit pants and tight, formfitting white button downs, were many a discussion in our bedroom when my wife was in 'that' mood. It helped that Terry was always open to discussion about anything my wife could dream up. She's find out juicy little bits of information about Terry's sex life, about Bill her husband, and the things they did. 

One night, after an intense workout at the gym, I settled in and flipped on the television. She came home and sat next to me, still dressed for work. Her work out fits were a little too conservative for my tastes. Turtle neck sweaters, loose suit pants and heeled shoes, but my wife still has an amazing little body on her almost five foot frame. Her long black hair was down though, so it spiced up an otherwise unadventurous look.

"So I had an interesting discussion today at work."

"Oh really?" I said not even half listening watching Sportscenter.

"With Terry."

"Mmhmm."

"And what she thinks of undersized men." And that's when the TV flipped off and she instantly garnered my full attention.

"And why were you talking about undersized men?" She smile at me and began walking her fingers up and down my sweaty shirt. "Just something that came up." 

She reached her hand beneath the waistband of my sweatpants. My penis was soft and limp.

"She just made a comment about how big you are and how big you must be." I'm almost six foot four and not overly muscular but I definitely keep the fat off, "and how great of a lay you must be. I disagreed."

Her hand tightened around my stirring penis.

"But you love sex with me."

"Of course I do, and I told her that much." Her fingertips pinched the head of my dick. "But I also told her you're not nearly as big as everyone probably thinks you are." That comment forced a strong jolt of blood to spring my near flaccid cock to life. I tensed at the thought of my loving wife telling another woman, a sexy, forceful and dominant woman, that I didn't measure up. 

"I can't believe you said that to her."

"Neither could I at first. But I was just so horny all day and once she started talking about the sex she had last night I couldn't help it. She said she had trouble walking today because Bill was so rough with her last night." The thought of Terry's long, athletic legs spread open as her tight, full breasts bounced from the force of Bill's pounding pelvis filled my brain. 

"Then she said that she can only imagine how I felt after one of our sessions. That you must really give it to me hard." My wife giggled. "And that's when I told her it was never that bad." My cock stood firm, my wife's hand gliding up and down the shaft still tucked neatly inside my sweats. The embarrassment of her comments only served to turn me on more. 

"What did she say?" I put my hand over my wife's to slow her down. I was ready to explode already but I needed to hear the end of the story. 

"Are you ready to shoot already?!" She giggled again, but with something behind it. I immediately knew why she was laughing. 

"This is just so hot. I can't believe you said these things."

"No." She pushed my hand away and kept stroking. The head of my penis rubbed against the rough fabric of my sweatpants on her down stroke, on the upstroke my small head disappeared in her small hands. "That's not why you're ready to blow. You're ready to blow," she pulled my pants down with her free hand, "because little Tom here always likes to shoot quick doesn't he." 

She stroked faster and I felt the pressure working its way up my shaft. I tried to hold back, but she was unrelenting.

"He shoots quick, doesn't he Tom," she kept stroking and leaned into my ear. "Say it, say it Tom. You're a quick shot."

"No," I bit my lip and squeezed my innards as hard as I could, hoping to stem the rising tide of pleasure working its way up my legs. 

"If you can hold it in for one more minute, you don't have to say it. One little minute. But if you can't then you have to say 'I'm a quick shot' and shoot all over your clothes."

"That's not fair. You know I love shooting it on you though."

She made a fake sad face and patted my head with her free hand. "I know baby, I know but that's your punishment."

The slight distraction for a second lessened the growing pressure in my balls. She sped up her jerking and I tried to cycle through the roster of the past three World Series Champions to help me hold out. I thought of Beckett, and Pujos and ... 

Twenty seconds past.

"You ready to shoot sweetheart?"

"Nope." I winced. 

Her lips nestled close to my ear and her slight tongue licked my lobe. "I told Terry that most nights you don't last more than two minutes." Oh fuck. "She tried not to laugh but when I told her it was alright she busted out. We giggled to each other about it and she accused me of lying. She said there was no way you were a quick shot and under sized."

The cum bubbled up my shaft and collected in the head, I was a deadman. 

"But I told her you most definitely were. I told her you were a small dicked quick shooter and she laughed so loud the guys in finance all heard her. She covered her mouth but couldn't stop laughing. At you, baby, all at you."

The release was incredible, the best one I had had in months. A small stream of it sprouted out of my cockhead and landed on her still stroking hand, the next spurt landed on my shirt and a tiny third one on the waistband on my pants. 

She smiled at my mess and kept stroking as my body spasmed and the implications of what she had just told me began to embarrass me more than turn me on. Had she really said all those things? Did Terry really know how inadequate I was in bed? 

My wife stopped stroking and then looked into my eyes, not smiling but with a slanted, mischievous face.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

My penis was already deflating and even in its half aroused state she was able to cup mostly whole thing, and my balls, in her hand. She squeezed and pain coursed through my abdomen but a touch of pleasure too, everything was still really sensitive. 

"Okay, okay." I pursed my lips and balked. She squeezed tighter. "I'm a quick shot. I'm a small dicked quick shot."

She immediately relinquished her grip on my groin and smiled, giving me a big kiss on the lips.

"Ha! That was wonderful sweetheart! You did so well! I told her there was no way you'd say any of that but she was right."

"What are you talking about?" I pulled my sweats over my now dying penis, covered in small splatterings of my own cum. I folded my arms over my chest to hide the rest of the cum from her.

"Terry told me to make you say that."

"So everything you just told me was true?" I wasn't turned on anymore, just defeated.

"Of course," my wife was extremely happy at this. She sat on her knees, completely un-phased by the fact I was covered in my own cum and embarrassed. "After she stopped laughing she asked if you knew how small and inadequate you were. I told her I didn't think you were that bad. So she backed off a little because I think she thought she was hurting my feelings. I admitted it made me hot to think of you like that so she said to spice things up I should try and get you to admit it, even if, and I promise she said this: 'I should try and get you to admit it, even if, and I promise she said this, 'even if you think he's not. Because girl, I have news for you, it really sounds like he is.'"

She was like a little girl telling her friends about the first sexual experience she had just had. She was excited, and bouncing in her seat and completely oblivious to the fact that she was getting turned on by my sexual inadequacies. Whatever fear I felt slowly seeped away as the thought of her being turned on by Terry's harsh comments about me began to appeal to me, even if my dick stayed limp, like it always did after sex. "Huuu," she smiled and bounced to her feet. She went into the bedroom and emerged with her dildo, the big black toy we bought for her for nights that we considered 'a special occasion.'

"Where are you going with that?" I asked, uncomfortably shifting as the cum in my pants stuck to my leg and the inside of my pants. 

"I'm taking a shower, and this little episode REALLY turned me on."

"Let me help you then."

"Ohh," she made the sad face again, but a little smile curled the side of her lips. "I promise I would let you sweetheart, but you can't go again can you?"

I shoved a hand into my sticky pants and groped, trying to get something going. It took all of ten seconds to realize nothing was going on. 

"I can finger you."

"No, it's okay darling. She said that too. That little dicked men have a hard time going again after they've finished. She's helping me understand all the things that have been frustrating me for so long. 

"So long? You never told me that?!"

"Honey, now lets be fair. I can't exactly tell you that the only time I have a strong fulfilling orgasm is when you finger me. That's just a little insulting to you. And the fact that after we have sex I have to sneak into the bathroom and finish myself off because you don't last long? How can I tell you that?"

Chirst she was right. I hadn't noticed but now that it was laid out in front of me, it all actually made sense. 

"I guess you couldn't," I said meekly

"Exactly," she was talking with the big black dildo in her hand, waving it like the magic wand she was about to use it as. "Terry really made me feel better about things today. So don't be mad. She just has a way of making me realize things. You should be thanking her actually."

"Thanking her?"

"Don't' be like that baby. Honestly. She's been with guys like you before. She knows how it goes."

"Guys like me?!"

"Yes sweetheart, guys like you. I'm serious, it was a great talk we had. And now that I understand things, understand your limitations so much better, things are only going to get better for the both of us." She pointed her dildo at me and smiled. "Okay?"

"Not really." I pouted at her, at the thoughts and feelings she was sharing with me. I was so ineffectual that that's all I could muster the courage to do, pout, like a little boy. 

"Okay then, join me in the shower and prove to me that I'm wrong. Prove to me that even though you have a smaller sized penis, you can give it to me nice and hard more than once every twelve hours."

I stroked my cock again, trying to will it to grow, tell it to get bigger and engorged in my hand, a nice long hard on that I could shut her and Terry's ideas up with. But a full minute of jerking and all I had was a sore flaccid penis that was caked in drying cum.

Again she giggled at me. "See sweetheart. It's just who you are. And I promise I'm not going to be mad at you anymore. I understand. Thanks to Terry I understand. Now I'm going to take a shower and finish myself off."

"Fine, but can I at least clean up first."

"No," she laughed as she headed for the bathroom. "That's your punishment for being a quick shot remember? Sit in your little cum puddle until I'm done. Then you can clean up. Okay."

I didn't answer. I just pouted. 

"Tom." She leaned her head out of the bathroom. "I said, is that okay?"

"Yes." I confirmed after her prompting.

"Good boy." She smiled again, infinitely happy at the control she was suddenly exerting over me. "Oh and you can thank Terry personally when we see her next week at the Christmas party."

"Christmas party?"

"Yup, she'll be there with her husband. You can thank her then. You will be thanking her correct."

I stroked my cock in futility. Goddamnit she was so right. 

"Yes honey, I'll thank her."

"Excellent!" And she slammed the door and got to work. 

I thought about Terry, about her comments, about her changing my wife's outlook on our sex life. I wondered if she was actually right, and that it was good fro my wife to realize these things. Then I wondered how I'd react to seeing Terry. I guess I'd find out sooner rather than later. I secretly wished for the week pass faster than any other in my life. 

Little Things Kill Ch. 02



****This is a story that contains a man being humiliated. If you are offended by such, just simply don't read it.****

*

My wife's Christmas party was later in the day so we spent the first half of the day getting ready. After her admission to me that, after speaking with her boss, she not only was convinced that I was under-endowed, but also felt it would be a major turning point in our relationship, I had a very hard time hiding my increasing arousal at her thoughts. What's more, she had revealed all of these facts to her Terry, her boss, and Terry was apparently anxiously awaiting to see me again at the party. 

I normally wear pants with a 36 waist, but in our travels during the day, my wife went out of her way to buy me a pair of 30-32 boxer brief underwear. She said she wanted to see what effect it would have on my package. I told her I'd do it, but only if we also bought her a training bra that she would have to wear at the party as well. She agreed, saying that while Terry knowing about me and my size was exciting to her, Terry actually being able to see how inadequate my wife's chest size was even more of a turn on for her. 

Once we were home, I watched her getting ready for the party. The training bra had pictures of little girls on them, little girls that were fifteen years younger than my wife and still developing. But when she slid the bra on, it fit snuggly, pushing her A-Cups flat against her chest. Once she slid her cocktail dress on over it, a cute little red number that covered her chest completely but was short in the skirt, she turned to face me, flatter than I had ever seen her before. 

"You like?"

"I do," sitting on the bed, I was touching myself through my underwear.

She smiled at me and ran her hands over her flat chest. "You're turn!"

"I don't think they'll fit," I said holding them up in front of me. 

"Now Honey we said, we were going to stop pretending and be honest didn't we?"

"No you're right."

Even with the growing hardon in my pants the small underwear fit sung and comfortable.

Once we were both prepared, and properly turned on, we took the short trip in my Charger over to the party. It was a small affair, her company wasn't that many people, and the lady's house who was hosting it was a half retired kind old thing who was hard of hearing. I found a corner, as I always did at these things, and tried to blend into the wallpaper with my beer and plate of half frozen shrimp as she mingled with her co-workers. I kept shifting uneasily though as the tightness of my underwear rubbed, pulled, and tugged me every which way. Occasionally my wife would look over and wink at me when she saw me move, happy in my discomfort. 

Terry and her husband Bill didn't arrive for another hour. Terry walked in and took off her full length fur coat to reveal a form hugging red dress, with tight straps around her taught, slim waist and loose top over her nicely formed breasts. Her hair, as always, was pulled tight into a ponytail, the streaks of dyed blonde mixing perfectly with her real black hair below. My wife waved for me to come over and say hi, but I was already on my feet and making my way there, the anticipation and embarrassment already growing. 

"Hi Terry, I'm so glad you could make it," my wife kissed her cheek.

"You too dear," Terry kissed her back and stepped away to examine my wife's outfit. "You look ravishing. Doesn't she look great Bill?"

I noticed Bill for the first time, leering at my wife like I had never seen before. "Does she ever," he nearly whispered at her.

"Why thank you," my wife said wrestling with his eyes. 

They stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time until Terry turned to me and said, "Oh hi Tom, I didn't even see you standing there."

"Hey," my voice cracked when I said it. 

"You're wife just looks so incredible tonight, doesn't she?"

"Yea, great," is all my stupid brain could come up with. 

Terry laughed at that as Bill offered his hand.

"Long time no see Tom."

I shook his hand. He looked bigger since the last time I saw him.

"You been working out? You look good."

"Thanks, been hitting the gym pretty hard lately."

"It shows."

Terry leaned into his chest and tickled the bottom of his chin, "boy does it." She nestled her head against him and stared at my wife, "I swear I think he's getting bigger all over." She smiled and pulled his face close for a kiss. "Isn't that right my big strong man?"

He didn't look the least bit put off by her comment. He kissed her and looked at me with his hot wife on his side.

"They say working out increases blood flow throughout the body. So I've definitely seen improvement everywhere."

"Everywhere?" My wife suddenly spoke up, again trying to capture his eyes with soft, sexy looks.

"Everywhere, sweetie," Terry answered for him, running a hand down his shirt to his belt. She grabbed his belt and pulled up with strong hands, "Everywhere."

My wife was mesmerized and it was like I wasn't even standing next to her. Her nipples perked up through the soft material of her dress and her face became slightly flushed. 

"It helps," Bill said still staring at my wife, "Every little bit helps, right Tom?"

Now it was my turn to blush. My God, had Terry told him about her and my wife's conversations? Did he know about me? This conversation was already leaning that way but now it seemed incontrovertible. 

"Sure." I nervously laughed. 

They excused themselves to say hi to everyone else and my wife came up close and began whispering to me.

"I can't believe how much better he looks. He was always an attractive guy, but now he's pretty ripped." She said still staring at them as they walked around the room. "Honey do you think that's true? Do you think you could, you know, get bigger, if you worked out?"

"That's crap. It doesn't happen that way. He's just saying it to get a rise out of you."

"If you only knew." She smiled and sipped her drink. 

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No what?"

"You don't want to know."

"Know what?"

"Trust me."

"What are you talking about?"

She huffed and finally managed to rip her eyes away from them and look at me. "Terry has told me about Bill and sweetheart, TRUST me, he doesn't need the help from working out."

"Is that so?"

She took a long, slow sip from her drink, looking over it at Terry and her husband, "is it ever."

After they said hi to everyone Terry and Bill came back over to us and the four of us spent the better part of the night together. Thankfully, nothing else came up about sex and I started thinking maybe I was a little too hasty in my thoughts earlier. The party began to wind down and before long we were all getting ready to go. I had to go and get our coats from the bedroom. I headed up the steps and down the hall to the room. It took me a minute to find ours and when I went to turn and leave, Terry was coming in the door. 

"Oh hi." I had been staring at her chest for almost the whole night. Her chest, and those lovely long legs of hers, firm but shapely. Even the way she sat, she just exuded confidence all the time. She was, to me, the epitome of a strong woman. 

"Hey, I'm glad I caught you, I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?" Like a little kid on his first date, the nervousness washed over me at her mere sight, let alone her wanting to talk to me. I tried to think about my wife downstairs, and tried to think of all the ways I loved her, just in case. I needed to keep my guard up. 

"Your wife and I were talking and well," she looked around the room and then caught my eyes, "well there's no easy way to say this. I like your wife, a lot. I think she's a great woman and I think she deserves the world."

"Of course, so do I."

"That's the thing," she smiled at me and I could see the pity behind it, "you really can't give her what she needs."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't take it too personal. You're a great husband to her."

"Yea, and I've known you forever and you always said that we were perfect together."

"You are, Tom, you are. I don't mean you should get a divorce or anything. But after talking with her, I honestly don't think you can give her what she needs, you know," she smiled and pushed her legs together like an obnoxious little girl, "down there," she pointed to my crotch. 

I tried to look insulted. I tried to look appalled and upset. I tried to look anything except embarrassed because I knew if I acted that way, she'd know it was true. Of course I was unsuccessful on all attempts. 

"I don't know what she told you but..."

"Relax it's okay," she moved close to me and put a hand on my chest. "I already knew before she told me."

"What?!"

"Tom, I've been with a lot of men in my time and I have to tell you, you always acted like you were small."

"That doesn't even make any sense." But I couldn't push her away. Just seeing her this close, touching me, was driving me crazy, I dared not to push.

"Men with small ones tend to act differently. I can usually tell within a few minutes. Why do you think Bill and I got married so quickly? We were only going out for a few months before we got engaged. I knew almost from the first second I met him that he was anything but small. And with you, all those years we worked together before you left the job, it only confirmed what I already knew, that you were under-endowed."

She moved her hand over my chest and to my belt. Her fingers somehow managed to grasp my zipper without actually touching anything else, and she slowly tugged it down. 

"I can't do this, my wife."

"It's okay Tom. I spoke to her before I came up here."

"You what?"

She tugged the zipper all the way down. Because of the tight underwear I was wearing, nothing came out of the hole.

"I told her she needed to experience a big man. She needed to know what it really feels like to have a man inside of her." She laughed as her hand slipped into my pants. "I told her she can have Bill, that she NEEDED Bill. And she said she couldn't cheat on you unless you did it first." Her hand pressed into me, "I told her that wouldn't be a problem."

I breathed in sharply as she worked in small circles. 

"She would never cheat on me."

"You're right Tom, that's why you're going to be there. But just to make sure you know your place, I'm going to prove to you why you're a small man and he's not."

"Why would you," I was having a hard time talking, her breath, her smell, just her presence was crumbling my will. "Why would you want Tom to be with another woman?"

She laughed so loud that I thought someone else might here. She was still chuckling as she began to talk, her hand still buried in my pants. "See?! You act the small man all the time. Bill is a real man. A very big man that knows what he wants and gets it. I can't say no to him, and I don't want to. Seeing my man, seeing him take control and act like the stud I know he is turns me on. Turns any woman on. That's why your little wife down there can't take her eyes off him. That's also why he'll be fine giving it to her with you in the room. A little man like you? You wouldn't even be able to get hard. Now," her thumb pulled away the waist of my tight underwear and slipped in, "where is this tiny guy hiding?"

"No," was my futile protest.

"See, one more reason you're just a small dicked little man. I'm telling you your wife is going to be with someone else, and just because my hand is wrapped around your pathetic pee pee, you don't say anything to defend her. How can I not give her what she wants?"

She ran her other hand around my back and pushed my pants to the floor. Then she pulled the underwear down too. I was totally exposed but I didn't move. 

"This is too funny. See what I mean, what man would let a woman do this to him?"

She took a step back and for the first time got a full look at my penis.

"All those years and I was wrong. It is SO much smaller than I ever thought."

I, for my own part, was as hard as I have ever been. I was speechless, embarrassed and turned on more than at any time in my life. I was utterly willing to let this woman do whatever she wanted to me. Even the threat of my wife being ravaged by her husband did nothing to dissuade me from doing anything to make this woman happy. 

She bent over and smiled at my rock hard small member. She took it between her thumb and forefinger and began to stroke it. 

"You know what's so cute about the little ones? They stand up straight. A real dick stands out and proud, but these little ones poke up." She stroked a little faster and giggled at me, "Tell me Tom, how big is it?"

"I--," she pressed with perfect pressure on my head, just her two fingers were enough to massage my whole shaft when she pulled a full stroke. "I don't know."

"Oh please," she laughed again, "no man with one this small didn't measure it at some point."

She pinched the head again and I jumped in pleasure. I couldn't believe she was doing this all with two fingers. A true master. 

"Tell you what, you tell me what size and I'll put this little nub in my mouth."

"Really?!" I blurted out.

"Mmhmm."

"Almost four inches!" I nearly yelled it, so eager was I to have her blow me.

"Ha! Spoken like the true baby dick you are. See what I mean about small men? So eager, it really is cute. You do have your uses, I'll say that much."

"Please put it in your mouth." I asked humbly.

"Awwww! That was too cute." She smiled and got on her knees. "Come here. Give me that little boy dick. That's what you have right?"

She knelt in front of me and I was already about to come. Her intense two finger job was in every way perfect, rubbing and stroking and pulling me with just two dainty fingers to the point of explosion. 

She breathed hot air and it mingled with the precum on my cock. My cock twitched as it got ready. 

"Say it, say you've got a little boy's dick. I'm pretty sure my thirteen year old nephew has a bigger one Tom. Say it."

"Ahhh," she picked up her pace. She was trying to get me to go and I couldn't do anything to stop it. "It's a little boys dick, I have a little boys dick, please please blow me." I rushed through, trying to get her to hurry up before I finished.

"Ha! This is even better than I thought. I'm offering you, a pathetic little nub like you, a masterful bj and you can't even hold it in long enough for me to start, can you? Can you little boy." She jerked faster and I was in trouble. "You want to see my man fuck your wife? Do you? You want to see her take a real dick?"

"God yes!" I would say anything at this point, anything to get her to not stop.

"Good boy! Good boy. You're going to let her have him to her hearts content aren't you? You're going to let her do whatever she wants right?"

"Right, right." I winced, I was almost done. 

"And why is that? Why is that little boy?"

She pinched and the cum charged up my shaft and towards the head.

"Because he's a real man and she deserves a real man!"

Terry doubled her speed and I started shooting as hard as my small cock would let me. She tipped her head back and laughed as I spurted, only twice this time. She cupped her left hand and milked me with her right, pulling out one more half squirt. The watery mix barely filled her small hands. 

"My god you even cum like an infant!" she examined her hand and its contents. "Your poor wife! She is in for the ride of her life tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Oh didn't I tell you? We are going back to my place tonight. Don't worry, you're coming remember? Little men always like to watch don't they?"

"Yes, yes we do." Even more so than with my wife earlier in the week, this woman had defeated me. She crushed my spirit. Her masterful technique and unrelenting badgering had awakened in me a need to serve her, a need to serve my wife. I not only understood what she meant about small men, I wanted to fulfill it, to embrace it. Terry had made me realize that I wasn't giving my wife what she needed. I was pathetic and she enjoyed that. And that turned me on even more. 

"Hold out your hand," she said.

I held it out.

She tipped her hand into mine and dropped the little pool into my hand. Then she wiped her hand clean on my chest, scraping my come all over my shirt.

"Now go clean up and get presentable for your wife. She's going to want to see you at your best, so she knows exactly how short you come up."

I went to pull up my pants.

"No, no, no. Shuffle in there like the little boy you are. Shuffle into the bathroom with that thing and lean up. Okay?"

"Okay." I hung my head and tried to justify in my head a way to resist her. I couldn't, I just couldn't. 

"And bring our coats down too. Make sure you grab Bill's too. Real men wear leather."

"Okay."

"Oh and Tom?"

I turned around to face her. My pants were around my ankles. My little embarrassed dick was even smaller no, shriveled and useless, and my hand was cupped, easily holding what she had milked out of me. I stood before a woman that turned me on more than anyone ever totally defeated.

"You really are a good husband. Knowing your place will only make you stronger as a couple." She smiled. "Okay go go go!"

I did everything she said as fast as I could do it. Before long I was downstairs and warming up the car, desperately needing to see my wife.



Little Things Kill Ch. 03



Terry's house was an immaculate three story affair with vaulted ceilings, adorned with expensive art, and otherwise an abode seemingly beyond her pay scale. My wife had told me, well before any of our current adventures began, that years ago Terry had dated the owner of their company. While the romance didn't work out, she left him for Bill, her current husband, the owner of my wife's company always held her in high, and times vaunted, regard. Jerry, the owner, was an older, incredibly successful realtor. Often, my wife's company parties were held on his boat, or at one of the three different apartments he rented throughout the city. I guess I could see why Terry would leave him. Jerry was in his mid fifties, attractive and still well built, but desperately losing his fight against old age and Bill was, for lack of a better term, a stud. But by leaving Jerry, she also walked away from a lot of money, a lot more than Bill had that's for sure. However, judging by her house, I guess they still did well enough. 

My wife and Terry giggled as they went behind the bar and opened a new bottle of scotch and poured a pair of glasses for themselves. My wife was a little less than drunk, and I could tell her buzz was enhanced by her arousal. For my part, my previous encounter with Terry, her furious and humiliating stroking, had left me winded and tired, unable to really enjoy what I was hoping would be a night of drunken debauchery.

Bill excused himself upstairs and I found a chair and watched as my wife and Terry, flirted and laughed with each other, oblivious of my presence in the room. 

"This is such a cute dress." Terry said running her finger beneath one of my wife's straps.

"Thank you," She blushed and looked away, a drunken, lustful smile blossoming across her face.

"Although," Terry moved her hand down further until it was just above my wife's top breast. "Have you ever considered getting a boob job?"

"Excuse me?" My wife went from willing mistress to insulted woman with one phrase.

"Sweetheart relax. I'm just saying that these," she cupped a hand under my wife's small breast and pushed up what little she could, "these little things? These are half the reason you have a man like that over there."

"Not all men like large breasts, Terry." Her indignation gave way to reasoning.

"Of course not dear. Look," Terry grabbed my wife's hand and placed it atop Terry's left boob. My wife tried to recoil but Terry's stong hands, the same that had nearly brought me to my knees only hours before, held her fast. 

Terry's tits were beautiful round examples of a well put together lady. They weren't any larger than a B cup, but they were firm and proud, accentuating an athletic body. They were the kind of breasts well endowed woman envied, compact, comfortable and imminently more fuckable. 

"See?" Terry brushed a stray hair from my wife's face, caressing the impressed and embarrassed look that resided there. "That's a woman's breast. That's one of the many factors that help you control men. Do you understand hon?"

"I--," my wife's hand squeezed and fondled and rubbed those perfectly formed tits, "I think I do Terry."

"Exactly, so as I was saying have you ever considered getting them done?"

"No, I don't think I could afford it even if I did."

Terry laughed at that. "Money, love, will be the least of your worries when I'm done training you."

"Bill makes good money doesn't he."

"Bill makes no money my dear. He lives off of what I give him, and I give him everything because he is so very good to me."

My wife looked confused. "But you can't possibly make that much more money than I do at the office and—"

Terry put a finger to her lips and sealed it with a kiss. My tired and aching penis jumped at this, the first time my wife had ever kissed another woman. And more so, she liked it. Terry smiled through their kiss and pulled her away just as she eagerly moved in for more. 

"No more money talk honey, it's no fun. Tonight is about fun." Terry looked over at me and smiled, "isn't it now Tom?"

"I—uh—yea—uh—sure!" I stammered, suddenly excited that she remembered me, like when you're the last to finally get picked for sports in school. 

Her glance at me was short lived as the stairs creaked and we all looked as Bill came down the steps, a robe loosely closed around his body. His well defined chest pulled it apart at the top and the close shaven bits of his body hair helped accentuate his stature. 

"Ah there he is."

Terry walked over and greeted him with a kiss. She brought a leg up and went on tip toes with the other to meet his lips. He put a strong hand over her butt to help her up and the two kissed for a long minute before separating. 

Terry wrapped her arms around his waste and pulled the robe more open to expose most of his chest. 

"So how does he look?" She said to my wife, smiling. 

"Very nice. Incredibly nice actually."

Terry walked over and took my wife by the hand, leading her to Bill and placing her hands on Bill's chest. Her little fingers played with the stuble there and smiled down at her. Terry's hand took her wrist and gently guided it around his body, tickling his nipples and rubbing his taught stomach. Terry's other hand went to his waist and started unfurling the knot in his robe. His shoulders were already free, and once she undid the knot, the whole thing fell to the floor. 

Bill stood there in boxer briefs that seemed too tight for his massive thighs. My wife gasped and Terry giggled and they both looked down. Looked down his slight six pack, looked down the strong muscles that dipped past the waistband of his underwear, looked down at the round, strong package of man-meat crowding in his crotch, huddled tightly and straining against the grip of the cotton briefs. 

"Wow," my wife whispered.

"Wow indeed," Terry smiled. 

"Is he," she pulled back now and just admired him from afar, "is he even hard?"

"No I'm not," Bill responded, a big knowing grin on his face.

"Oh Tom," Terry looked over at me. I quickly glanced at her and away from where my eyes had been transfixed when she called my name. 

"Uhh, yea?"

"Ha! That was so cute." She stepped over to me. 

I was sitting down and when she stood in front of me, she looked down, and very imposing. 

"Did I catch you staring Tom?" She wagged her finger at me, like she was scolding a little boy who had just been caught doing something naughty. 

"No, I well, you know."

"No I don't actually. But please," she folded her arms and cocked a leg forward. Her breasts bunched up at her elbows and I looked at her tight body that couldn't be ignored even through the snug dress she was wearing, "do tell."

"I mean, there is a difference in guys you know. You ever hear of a 'shower' and a 'grower'?"

She nodded her head, acknowledging that I actually, in her opinion, may have had a point. "I HAVE heard of that actually, Tom, and I'm glad you brought it up."

"I don't understand." My wife said, I couldn't tell if she was staring at his impressive thighs or his impressive package, both I knew were turning her on. 

"What your husband here is talking about is men's penises. Apparently," she glanced down at me with a wicked smile, "a subject that he knows quite a bit about."

I blushed at this and looked away. This woman had an uncanny ability to embarrass the shit out of me. 

"What he means is that some men are actually a lot bigger flaccid than others. Men who aren't very big flaccid can actually 'fill up' to a nice strong size. So even though they look a little puny in the pants normally, they're pretty big once they get going." 

"Is that true?" My wife asked. She did seem genuinely interested, even though Bill was now pulling her closer and rubbing her neck in small circles. 

"Actually yes it is true. But." Now Terry sat down on the arm of the chair next to me and leaned over. Her tits pressed close to my face and her hand played with my chin and the rested on my stomach. "But that's a bit of a misnomer."

"Really?"

"I have found," Terry said, her hands now unbuttoning my pants, "that most men, like my loving husband Bill, that are 'showers' are actually bigger overall." She reached in and cupped the whole of my cock and balls with her hand through my pants. "And men that are growers, like your hubby over here," she squeezed and blood rushed into my penis. I breathed in and grabbed the armrests to the chair. "Growers are almost always smaller, even after they've filled up."

Bill started kissing my wife's neck and I head her moan. "God the feels great." But she was still resisting a little. "I don't know if I can do this though. Not with Tom here."

"That's fine dear." Terry said standing up and pulling me to my feet by my hand. "We're going to put Tom away for a little so you can get going. Don't you worry."

Terry led me by the hand to the sliding doors that led into the study, the room adjacent the one we were in. She pushed me in and slid the doors closed. 

"I'll come and get you when we're done okay Tom?"

"I," I looked past her and saw Bill devouring my wife, and she went limp in his arms, letting his manly frame take her down to the floor. 

"Don't worry Tom, I promise we'll come and get you. You just hang out in there for now, talk to my other friend and just relax okay?"

"Other friend?" I questioned as she closed the door on me. 

I turned around and sitting watching TV was Jerry, the owner of my wife and Terry's company. He nodded his head at me when I came in. We had only spoken a few times before. 

"Good to see you again Tom." 

"This is a little—What are you doing here?"

"Probably the same thing you're doing here."

My wife let out a loud, sensual moan from the other room. Then her heavy breathing began, in rhythm, as she was apparently being pumped by the man in the adjacent room. 

"This isn't, I mean," I looked at the door then back at him, "it's not how it looks."

"Relax, Tom. You think I don't understand why you're here? Terry has a way about her doesn't she?"

I breathed out, a little happy that he knew where I was coming from. "She certainly does."

"She's been having me over here for a few years now. Although my wife isn't as forgiving as yours, so I come by myself. The woman makes me feel more alive than anyother I've ever met. I'd give that woman anything."

I didn't respond. My wife yelled, a bit in pain from the other room. Then her panting rose up again, she yelled his name now. "Yes Bill, Oh shit, yes Bill. My God Bill please don't stop, please."

"You're wife has some set of lungs there Tom."

We sat in silence for at least another twenty minutes. Her boss and I shared a few uncomfortable stares but even with him there I couldn't help getting hard. My wife finally started panting and just lowly moaning, right after Bill let out a growl. Then the doors opened and Terry walked in, her face flush and trickles of sweat beading between her cleavage. But other than that she looked just as kempt and sharp as always.

"My goodness Tom, your wife is a handful."

Terry turned around and my wife walked towards me. Her hair was knotted and her cheeks were warm and red. She had Bill's robe on and as she walked towards me she smiled. 

"Hi honey," she said with a lazy smile on her face. 

"Are you okay?"

"Okay?" she collapsed into my arms on the chair. Her skin was soaked and steaming, and her breaths were heaving. "Honey, I've never in my life felt this good."

I had to ask just one question. I didn't want to but I just had to know. "Did he," she looked up at me happier than she's ever looked, "did he cum?"

My wife just started laughing and giggling and snuggling her face into my lap. 

"No Tom, he didn't cum, you silly little man." Terry said from the doorway. "Weren't you listening? They were only having sex for a half hour. It takes a lot longer than that for him to get off."

"My God honey, I couldn't take anymore!" my wife now perked up and was jumping up and down in my hands, "He was doing it so deep I got off after a few minutes. I tried to last longer and he kept doing it and doing it and doing it until I just couldn't anymore."

Bill now appeared behind Terry and put a hand on her waist. His cock stood half limp, soaking and glistening with my wife's juices. It looked strong and powerful, and he stood behind her, the man who had just banged my wife, with all the confidence of a general who just took the shores of a beachhead. 

"I really need to finish up sweetie." He said softly into Terry's ear.

She smiled at him and ran a delicate little finger down his long member. She took my wife's hand placed it around his dick. The two women's hands teased each other and the great swelled head of his penis. 

"Just like I showed you dear. It's so much more difficult when you can't fit your whole hand around it so you have to make sure he's satisfied."

My wife stroked him, so much differently than she ever had, or could me. He was too large for her to jerk with one hand. So she used two, intertwining her fingers and making almost a little pussy with her hands that he proceeded to push his hips into. 

"Now Tom, it's your turn. Come over here," Terry said. 

"If you think I'm even touching his dick, you've got another thing coming."

"What? What are you some kind of homosexual? Why would my man, this real man you see before you want a little man like you touching him? No dear, you have it all wrong. He has to mark his territory."

"What the hell does that mean?"

My wife sat on her knees and her robe fell from her. Her naked small body knelt before him, and she stroked and stroked, looking up at him in awe. She was praying before her God, trying to worship him the way Terry had taught her. 

"It means," Terry smiled and pulled me up off the chair, then she pushed me to my knees next to my wife. "that he's marking his territory and you, my little friend are his newest territory."

"I'm not putting that in my mouth."

"Baby," my wife tore her gaze away from him for an instant to look at me. "Terry's just trying to tell you that I have to finish him off. Look at him," she looked up at him and kissed the head of his penis, "look at this man. He gets whatever he wants. And he likes to cum on smaller men."

"That's gay sweetheart."

"No Tom," Bill finally said. "It's not gay. I don't want you to do anything. I just want you to stand there and take it. I want you to sit in front of me and watch as your little wife gets me off. And just as I'm about to shoot, she's going to aim me right at you. And you're going to take. You're going to take it because you have no choice. You're going to take it because like your little wife here who can't stand up anymore, you're going to worship me."

"You tell him Bill," my wife smiled and began jerking in earnest. 

I looked over at Jerry, her boss, and he was rubbing his crotch through his pants. Terry was next to him, stroking his hair and kissing his ear.

"It's okay Tom," Terry said, "Jerry has done it quite a few times. It's actually quite liberating." She leaned over and grabbed Jerry's crotch. "Isn't it Jerry?"

Jerry closed his eyes and moaned. 

My wife jerked Bill's big dick with two hands, up and down in long strokes. She put her lips up to it and sucked. Her little lips stretched around the head of his dick, and she giggled as his hips pounded it closer into her face. 

"That's right," Bill winced, "just about there." 

My wife picked up her strokes, hammering down on his cock until his precum became slick in her hands. 

I watched mesmerized by her new talents. Terry knelt next to me and started whispering in my ear.

"You do want me, don't you Tom?" He long fingers caressed my neck, "don't you want all of me?"

"Yes." I whispered back.

"I'll let you have me, small cock or no, I'll let you have me."

"Really?"

Bill moaned and grabbed my wife's hands, helping her get him off.

"Yes. Just do this thing for me. Just do this little thing for me and you can have me. Jerry's done it plenty of times, and I let him have me." She turned back to Jerry, to the owner of her company, her boss, a man richer than all of us combined, and he just nodded his head at her in solemn affirmation.

"Here it comes, shit here it comes." 

My wife switched to one hand and kept jerking, the giant smile on her face beaming as she bent his dick towards me. 

Terry pushed me forward into the Bill's line of fire. 

Right at the last second she whispered, "This is how real men get off Tom."

And I stood there, abiding by her wishes and watched as Bill grunted and thrusted his pelvis. 

A great and mighty load erupted from his penis, a thick and strong jolt of cum flying through the air. I heard my wife laugh loudly as it spurted and landed across my shirt. Her hand kept pumping, Bill moaned again, and then another mighty shot flew out, this one seemingly bigger than the first. It splattered against my stomach and arm. My wife kept jerking and more flew forth. Shot after shot, each as strong as the first, seven and eight and nine squirts, all of them landing squarely across my chest stomach and neck. I strained my head away, hoping to avoid getting any on my face, which I was only barely successful at. My wife and Terry laughed and my wife pulled his dick and tried aiming it at my face even as his last spurts chugged out of his dick. Luckily his volcano of cum was finally finished. 

"Oh -- my -- GOD!" My wife yelled. "That was insane!"

Bill smiled at her and then released her death grip on his cock with his hand. 

Still on her knees she looked up at him like a scared little girl but happy to be in his presence. "You are a God Bill, holy shit."

Bill patted her head like the obedient little pet she was. Then he got up and went inside.

"There we go," Terry said as she stood up over me. "That wasn't so bad now was it? It's important that you were that close to Bill when he finally got off. It is very important that you see how a real man cums Tom. Was that different than your cumshots?" 

The smell of the pools of cum all over my body were making me gag. I stood there, nearly in tears, but somehow more aroused than I had ever been. I looked at Terry. "I didn't know men could cum like that."

"Of course not, my little Tom. That's because you're not a man are you?"

I looked at Bill's cum splattered all over my body. The answer was obvious. My wife would only stare at me with disgust. She was repulsed by me but I could still see a glimmer of attraction in her eyes. Like the way a dog owner is still happy to see his canine even after he's chewed up the carpet. "No, I'm not much of a man at all."

"Now we are learning! Okay. I want you to get showered and dressed and then we are taking your wife out for some late night drinks."

"I don't want to leave her."

"Of course not Tom, You're coming. And so are you Jerry. My two little pets are coming and will have a great time at that. Now go use the guest bathroom and get washed up. You're wife will wash up with me."

"Really?!" My wife said, her giddiness at showering with Terry completely overriding her disgusted stares that she was showering me with only moments before. 

"Certainly sweetie. Now let's get to it. The night is young!"

And with that they walked out. My wife naked and sweaty, and Terry, my Goddess, still pristine and in control of every moment. 



Little Things Kill Ch. 04



[This is a story about FEMALE domination over men. PLEASE do not read it if you are offended by this. I am always open to criticism, but know what you are getting into before chiding me for not understanding love.]

*

It was another three weeks before we saw Terry and her husband again. But my wife had learned her lessons well. To my surprise, instead of being repulsed by the acts I was forced to commit, the fact that my wife was not only turned on by them, but begging for more made me more accepting of the entire situation. Once her eyes had been opened by the worlds of pleasure TH could provide her, there was nothing I could do to satisfy her unquenchable thirst for a strong, hard penis. 

It was my wife's idea to head down to the sex shop a few nights ago. Before we left, after I had come home from work, she sat me down, and with earnest and eager eyes, she laid it bare.

"I love you Tom, I really and truly do. You are the man I married and there is no way in the world I want to be married to anyone else."

Well that was reassuring. 

"But we have to come up with some type of solution. We need to come up with someway to keep me happy."

"But you were happy before all of this. We had a great sex life before Terry, before everything that happened at her house."

She tilted her head and petted my face. "That's only because I didn't know how good sex really could be. It's like a person who doesn't know they have bad eyesight. Sure, they could get by before, but once those glasses are put on, the entire world is put into focus. That's how I feel now, sweetie. And I really want you to understand that."

"I understand."

"I don't think you do."

She floated a hand down to my crotch. "This," she said squeezing, "this no longer cuts it for me. This can no longer satisfy me."

"Ever?"

"No. I didn't say that. I love you and I'm willing to give you pleasure, always. I am still your wife. But I need a lot more now. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"You need another man to satisfy you." I looked away.

"Not necessarily. Not all the time. That's why I have an idea."

And that's when she gave me her plan. So now here we were, standing in front of a wall of dildos and strap ons in the middle of the sex shop down the road from us. She wanted me to strap on for her. She wanted me to get something that could simulate what she felt with Bill. That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was that she was having a hard time finding one. 

"I can't believe that don't have ONE that's close to him." She only half whispered at me. 

"What about that one?" I asked pointing to one. In my shame, I unfortunately knew pretty accurately what Bill's member looked like.

"Hmm" she tapped her lip. "Not quite."

It wasn't that they didn't have any his size, Bill after all wasn't gigantic. He was just a very girthy, full formed guy. It was that they didn't, as she said, "Have the exact perfectness of him." 

I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. How could it not? How could a man, any man, not be hurt hearing his wife speak like that of another man? But I was defeated. Having Bill spray his manhood over me, having him completely own me, being utterly subjugated by another man had stripped me bare. I was my wife's now, fully and completely. Whatever she wanted, I'd give her. However she wanted me, she would get it. And damn me if it wasn't the most turned on I had ever been. 

"There we are." She held one by the tip, its enlarged head even mightier in her small hands. 

"That one is black."

"So?"

"So, Bill isn't black."

"I didn't know you were such a racist." She chuckled and tapped me in the stomach with it. That act alone, my little wife smacking me with a hefty black dildo, would have been, until a few weeks ago, the most embarrassing moment of my sexual life. Now though? Now it seemed like just one more piece to the scattered puzzle of my cowing.

My wife rummaged through a small bin of straps, unsuccessfully looking for one big enough to fit me. All of them were small, petite numbers made to fit women. Afterall, who uses strap ons other than women? She was getting frustrated though, and for a gleeful second, I thought she may give up. Then to my horror, she tried a different tactic. 

"Excuse me," she said to the gothy looking guy behind the counter. 

Oh crap.

He just glanced up at her from the top of his tattoo magazine. He was a slim fellow, as most men of his genre tend to be. His heavy black hair hung over his left eye and the giant loop in his right ear was impossible to ignore. 

"I need this in a bigger size." She held up the biggest strap she had found. I was still probably three sizes too small. 

"Okay." But he didn't move.

"Do you have more in the back?"

"Don't know." He put down the magazine. "That thing is bigger than you'd think though." He took it from her and opened the straps up as far as they'd go. "See?" He held it up, now noticeably bigger. 

"No." She took it back from him. Then she opened a snap and pulled me close.

I resisted. God, all I wanted to do was slink out of there. I wanted to take her by the arm, drag her from the store and have sex with her. Pound her until I showed her just want my four inches could do. But I didn't. I couldn't She owned me. 

I shuffled closer to her. 

She struggled to get the strap around my leg. 

"See? It still doesn't fit. Maybe two sizes up from this."

He tried. I'll give him that. The kid tried not to snicker, or laugh, or be disgusted. But he couldn't help it. This wirey, knowing smile stretched across his lips. 

"Ohhhh, it's for him," he pointed to my crotch and not me. 

My wife smiled and hooked a stray strand of hair over her ear, looking up at the kid from her bent position in front of me. 

"Of course it's for him. Who'd you think it was for?"

"Well." He chuckled a bit and then shook his head. "It's just that, usually when we get guy girl couples in here buying that it's for her." He made his hand into a fist and pumped it. "Some guys like to get it, ya know?"

"Ha! Oh wow, I didn't even realize that." She smiled and stood up. "But no," she placed the black cock on the counter, "no my husband isn't gay."

He shook his head. "Na, it ain't gay. It's a control thing. It's not too bad actually."

"You've tried it?"

He smiled but stayed silent on the topic. "So what's your guys deal? You into the black guy thing or something?"

"No" I finally said. "She's not into black guys."

"Sorry man, didn't mean to offend." He put his hands up.

"Oh stop," my wife laughed and tickled a hand across his on the counter. "Tom's right though, I'm not exactly into black men."

"I don't get it then."

"Tell him Tom," my wife smiled. "Tell the man why we are here."

I looked at her incredulously. I couldn't believe she was going to make me do this. She was forcing me further down a road and I already had a very good idea where the final destination stopped. 

"I uh—"

"Now now Tom, don't be shy."

"I uh—"

She patted my burgeoning hard on in my pants. Despite myself, the whole situation was arousing me.

"I kind of have a small one."

She shook her head in disapproval. "Say it Tom. If we are going to keep honest, you have to say it."

I exhaled loudly. Then, to a complete stranger, to a man that was half my size and in any other context I would have lorded over I uttered the words: "I have a very small penis and she wants me to wear a strap on." 

"Holy shit you did not just say that to me dude." He stared at me, slackjawed and awed at my frankness. 

I turned and walked towards the racks of pornos but I could still hear them talking to each other from where I was standing. 

"How can you be with a dude like that? Dude can't even defend himself. A hot broad like you? Shit, I could show you a great time."

"Could you now?"

I turned back and watched her hand slide over his and begin to rub it in little circles. He smiled at her. I stood in the corner, grabbing my throbbing dick through my jeans. 

"Tom." She called me over and I obediently hustled to her side like the lapdog I had become. "This fine gentleman is going to show me the back room. Please stay out here and wait for a minute."

"What? Hell no I'm letting you go into the back with this—this--," I looked the little punk up and down, his too tight jeans, the emo hair, his skintight Clash shirt, "Freak."

She gasped. "Tom! How can you say something like that!"

She grabbed his hand and walked around the counter.

"C'mere." She said dragging him into the back room. "Let me see what a skinny man like yourself has packing down there. Tom, you wait here and I don't want to hear another word."

I looked around and thankfully the place was empty except for us. I walked down the DVD isle. I took a look ay the dildos again. I even strolled into the gay porn section. Anything to keep my mind off of what was going on in that backroom. But after ten minutes I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know. I needed to know.

I walked around the counter and before she was even in eyeshot, I could hear it. 

Long, sloppy slurps. Slight, squeaking gags. A little bit of laughter.

When I finally rounded the corner I saw her. My sweet little wife, the woman that I married years ago and who had promised to be faithful and endearing to me, on her knees in the backroom of a porn shop, sucking the juices out of a skinny little white guy's dick. All I could see was her head, bobbing back and forth at his crotch, with a voracity that I had never seen in our years of marriage. 

But that wasn't the worse part. That was about to happen. She picked up her intensity; I could see her shoulder moving as she stroked him while swallowing the head of his cock. He was getting close. He opened his eyes and saw me standing there. He looked at me and smiled, and then he winced and his hips bucked and my wife gagged. I heard the pop as her lips relinquished his cockhead, and she leaned back and took the whole load all over her face. And he smiled, boy, did he smile at me. 

"Wow," she said as she took the last spurts of his load, "that's some shooting Tex." She stood up and I finally got a look at his cock. It wasn't big at all, if it was six inches that'd be a lot. It was thick though, thicker than I would have given the little guy credit for. 

My wife walked over, her lips and cheeks dripping with his sperm and went to give me a kiss. I pulled away.

"Tom." She said sternly.

"Stop."

"Tom." She repeated. 

"I don't want to kiss you."

"What about our conversation? What about the discussion we had at the house?" She said to me as little pearls of cum dipped off her chin. She was actually having a conversation with me. A straight and serious conversation with another man's jizz on her chin. "You want to keep me happy? You want me to stay with you?"

"Of course."

"Then give me a kiss, damn it."

I closed my eyes and puckered. She didn't hesitate. Her lips probed mine, his thick, viscousy load squirming between out dueling lips. I tried to pull back but she surprised me and darted a tongue into my mouth. 

Her hand went into my pants and grasped my dick and she started furiously stroking.

She began to whisper between kisses. "Give it to me." 

She stroked again.

"Give it to me. Give me that cum."

She squeezed harder. 

"I feel your hardness. You love his cum in your mouth."

"No I don't." But my cock betrayed me. Her thumb and forefinger wrapped around my little head, just like Terry had showed her, and just like Terry, I was already on my last legs.

"You do, and I love you for it. Cum to this." She licked a long, sensual, slow lick over my mouth, pasting cum over the length of my chin, lips and mouth.

"God this is so hot."

"That's it, it's okay to admit it," she purred.

"I'm going to cum."

"Good boy, that's my good little faggot boy."

"Don't call me that." But I was lying. 

"C'mon my little fag boy. C'mon."

"Shit!"

I shot my strongest and hardest load I could muster over her stroking hands. She kept stroking, milking the last drops from my exhausted member. She looked me in the eyes and smiled. 

"Thank you love. I knew you had it in you."

I brought a hand up and wiped my mouth turning away in shame.

She turned back to the kid.

"We're taking the dlido and the strap you found me back here and we aren't paying a dime for it, got it?"

"Sweetheart, you can have the whole damn store as far as I'm concerned."

She smiled. "Aw that was sweet. When are you working again?"

"Tuesday."

She winked at him. "Guess I'll see you then." She laughed and then grabbed me by the sticky cock, guiding me out of the store. 

"Bring him back next time," he said to her.

"Without a doubt." She smiled and turned to me. "Let's get home and get this big black dick on you baby!!" 



Little Things Kill Ch. 05



****This is a story that contains a man being humiliated. If you are offended by such, just simply don't read it.*****

It had been four months since we had seen Terry although the awareness she had given my wife was still very much present. A change had occurred in her. She was more confident now, sure, but it went beyond that now. She had no problem coming home from work and telling me about the hot new intern they had just hired, or how when she went out with her friends she made sure I saw her outfit before she left. 

She started doing something else too. Her flat chest, something I always adored and teased her about at the same time, was now constantly being enhanced. Gone were the training bras and A-Cups that I bought for her and forced her to wear, teasing her about her inadequacies the way she did to me. In their place now were full lift and padded B-Cups. My wife wasn't a true B, but the extra padding ensured that every tight shirt she wore was a head turner. 

She forced me to do something else. Begin saving for her eventual boob job. I insisted that she didn't need one and surprisingly she agreed with me 100%. She said it wasn't for her, in fact her self esteem was at an all-time high. Instead the boob job would be for me, but not in the traditional sense. She wanted nothing left to make us equals she said. She was above me now, and having me pay for her boob job would be the final piece she needed to ensure my fidelity forever. 

Her sister came over around ten and the two of them, dressed almost identically in soft cotton black mini skirt dresses, headed out for the night. It was Thursday, ladies night and she, as she now always did on Thursday nights, told me not to wait up.

What was I to do? I stopped lying to myself months ago. The episode at the sex shop, where I was forced to do something I never thought I would, was enough to forever change my outlook on our marriage. She could now tell me whatever she wanted and I would not only comply with her, but I would do it joyfully. Now Thursday night was her night. She'd go out, sometimes with her sister, sometimes by herself, and she'd drink, and dance, and do all the things she was never quite able to do. The only rule was, she'd always come back. I was nervous at first, who wouldn't be, but she came back, and she always comes back, and it's more than that. She comes back with stories. Stories about sweat-inducing night clubs, being sandwich between two men, going into back rooms and having her way with random strangers. She hasn't gone all the way yet. She hasn't actually had sex with anyone but Bill and me. But she's done just about everything else. And her favorite part? The still utter look of shock on my face when she calls out with glee how much larger/stronger/thicker/manlier they all are in comparison to me. 

The phone rings around midnight but I'm too busy watching TV to answer it. Then about a half hour later, there's a knock at my front door. It can't be my wife, she doesn't get home until four at the very earliest. A little warily I get up to answer it.

Standing beyond my quiet front door was a very pregnant Terry. 

"Hi Tom."

"You're pregnant?"

"Hello to you too."

My hand was still on the door.

"Sooooo are you going to invite me in?"

I stumbled out of her way and let her into my house, mine and my wife's house. It was getting cold out, so her long coat covered most of her body but it did nothing to hide her firm and pregnant stomach. 

She glanced around my house. "Hmm small. I'm not really surprised. Where's your wife?"

"Out."

"Out?"

"With whom?"

"Her sister."

This made Terry smile. She slipped her now only slightly larger body out of her coat and held it out. I scurried over to take it from her and hang it up. 

"Is her sister attractive?"

I opened the closet and hung up her coat with my back to her. 

"Yea, I'd say she is."

"She more attractive than your wife?"

I thought about that.

"She cleans up better."

When I turned to face Terry I was amazed to see that, from the back, she looked exactly the same as always. Her shoulders were still taught and strong and they pitched sharply into her tight waistline. 

"Why are you here Terry?"

She turned to me. The black cotton shirt she was wearing struggled mightily all along its plunging V Neck with her now starkly more ample chest. Terry always had firm, beautifully proportioned breasts, but like many woman, her body had decided to increase their size, and overall fullness, by nearly three cup sizes in anticipation of her coming child. 

"I need you."

Those three lone words, small and barely spoken, were filled with such potential and anticipation that a naughty little smile broke out across my lips.

"Aw that was so cute!" She smiled and walked towards me. He hand reached out and she cupped my crotch. "You've missed me haven't you?"

"In ways I can't describe."

"I haven't spoken to your wife about this. I know last time her and I had an understanding. You both knew what was going to happen that night. And yes, she did get the fuck of her life from my husband, but you both knew about it. This is different Tom. She doesn't know that I'm here. She has no idea that another woman is in your house.'

She was right. Especially with my wife's new found independence, she wouldn't take lightly to Terry being here without her express permission. And even if I did ask her, she'd probably want Terry to herself. I thought about this for a moment, the fact that my wife would instruct me to let her have Terry instead of me, and I thought about how very different my life was. I now yearned to be controlled by a woman. I wanted to tell my wife because I wanted to hear her say no to me. 

But another part yearned for Terry. My wife was a beautiful and plain creature, and especially in her new role as head of our household, I had desire for her I thought long diminished. But Terry was pure. She was an elemental force. I, in all honesty believed that there was no man impervious to her will. It was in her DNA, she was the culmination of every woman's struggle for equality, she was a reckoning force, an equalizer. She was pure feminine brutality and sex. And I adored her.

"I don't care. If you need me, I'm there for you."

She laughed at that and spun slowly, her big belly pulling her shirt half way up her stomach.

"You know I'll have to have fun with you though. I don't want you to get caught but I do want you to squirm. I want you to wriggle on the hook as she suspects but can never prove. I think your wife is a lovely creature and I do so wish to manipulate her." 

"I love her."

"Of course you do." She made a cute sad face at me, curling her lower lip. "You love her so much you're willing to cheat on her."

"It's not like that."

She took a step towards me and placed a finger on my stomach. Her belly was inches away, her heavy heavy tits were plump and round just beneath my vision. 

"Do you love me?" She asked it cute and sweet and all the ways that woman can control me. 

"I love her."

"I know you do Tom, I'm not doubting that, yet." She smiled and grabbed the collar of her shirt. She pulled it slowly down. Her breast strained against the material, swelling as the fabric pushed against it. She kept pulling and her blue-ish veins pushed against her skin, her right breast screamed to be free. Then her nipple cleared the shirt and the ripe thing jumped from its prison and hung in all its feminine glory. Her nipple was engorged because of her pregnancy, and the whole tit was thick with muscle and milk. 

"But you need me."

"I need you." I repeated staring at that beautiful breast.

"You want me."

"I want you."

He hand pressed into my crotch, my cock already sprung and reaching for her grasp.

"And you love me."

"I—" I balked. Cheating was one thing, but she was asking for something so much more. 

Her thumb and forefinger compressed around the front of my shirts, seeking out my small cock with ease and grasping the head through my pants and underwear. 

"I want to feel this in me, Tom. I know I told you in the past you weren't worth it. And you're not. No little prick this small deserves to be in any woman, especially me. But I can't fit my husband anymore. He's just too much man for me."

Her fingers pulled and pulled on the fabric of my pants. My balls swelled at the feeling. 

"But you're not, are you?"

"Ahh." I yelped as her hand delved between my pants and my underwear. 

"You're never too much man are you?"

"N-no."

"I know things Tom. I still work with your wife and she loves telling stories about you."

"What?"

She squeezed hard, to the point of pain and my legs went together and I collapsed onto the couch. Her hand never left my pants. Now she stood above me, leaning over and grasping my balls with her mighty hands.

"I heard you had a little episode. I heard you gave your wife a little kiss."

"I can't believe she told you that."

"Of course she did Tom. I've taught her to be a woman. A strong and controlling woman. And real woman say and do what they want."

She released her grip and unbuttoned my pants. My little dick shot up and stood waiting for her attention. 

"Did you give your wife a cummy little kiss?"

She smiled at me and pulled down her pants. She wasn't wearing any panties. Her pussy was shaven clean, much cleaner than my wife's and her lips were plump and waiting. 

"You tasted a mouthful of cum didn't you Tom? Admit it to me and I'll fuck you. You hear me little boy. You'll get to fuck me finally if you just admit it to me."

There was nothing in the world I desired more than her. 

"Yes. Oh shit Terry yes. I ate cum off of my wife's mouth. Now please fuck me."

She cackled loudly. I almost got nervous, the thought of my wife hearing her from outside if she had decided to come home early. But Terry's pleasure, even the simple pleasure she gained from my humiliation, was everything I was living for at this moment. 

She pushed me flat on the couch, out of a sitting position. 

"My stomach is too big Tom. We can't sit facing each other because your cock is too small. Lay flat."

I laid back.

She squatted over me. Her pussy lips parted. My cock slid in.

She moaned slightly and then let the weight of her body slide fully on top of me. 

There Terry sat, finally. This perfect pregnant woman was finally atop me. I stared at her grandeur. Her face was fair and her eyes ringed with dark liner. Her hair was tight and back like always, even her hair obeyed her every command. Her shoulders and arms were still taught and strong, a testament to her work out regime even during her midterm pregnancy. Those beautiful breasts of hers, now more voluptuous than any woman I had ever seen, lay gently atop her big pregnant stomach. Even that turned me on. I have heard that some woman get stretch marks, or other imperfections. But her stomach was round and smooth, and it propped up her huge tits, letting them bounce and giggle with her thrusts. 

"You will cum in me." She smiled and worked her hips. I could tell she was getting pleasure from me. Somehow this woman was finding pleasure in me and that was enough to push me to the brink. 

"Do you want to cum in me Tom?" She smiled and enjoyed the playfulness of her voice, the slow pushing of her hips.

"Oh God yes."

"You need to be naughty with me Tom. You're naughty with your wife, so you need to be naughtier with me."

"Whatever you want darling."

"Darling!? Ha, I like that."

She was having no trouble speaking to me. My cock was fully inside her and she felt so little pleasure from it that she was having a full conversation with me. 

"How does it feel?"

"Incredible!" I yelled.

"You feel that room?"

I did. She was so loose. I could barely feel the inside walls of her pussy. 

"Yes, it's so open."

"My pussy is used to real men, Tom."

The fact she said Men and not Man was nearly enough to make me squirt.

"This is a great privilege I'm giving you, you understand that?"

"Yes Darling yes."

"Small, insignificant men like you have no business fucking real women."

"My God I'm going to cum."

"Do it, you little man. Do it. We've been fucking for less than two minutes. Waste it. You little fuck. Waste the time you're finally getting some from a woman."

She contracted the walls of her pussy and I was finally able to feel it constrict around my cock.

"There you go. Now you can feel it. Now you're not lost in someone else's stretched pussy. Fuck it Tom. C'mon."

Even for me, the shots of cum that let loose from my cock was a lot. I bucked against the forceful thrusts of her hips and shot deep inside her womb. I wasn't scared. I knew she was already pregnant, so I held her down and squeezed every lasts drop of cum I had into her. 

She leaned over her stomach closed her pussy with her fingers. 

"Good little boy now." She crawled over me and squatted over my face."Now it's time to be naughtier with me than with your wife."

Her fat throbbing pussy was held fast between her fingers inches from my mouth.

"You want to eat cum with your wife? Now you're going to eat it with me. Do you want it?"

I didn't say anything. Truthfully, now that I blew my load I was feeling rather vulnerable to the whole thing. 

"Tom, this is what I want. Do you want to give me what I want?"

"Always." I couldn't help saying it. 

"Open up now."

I opened my mouth.

She opened her fingers. 

My cum dripped in thick loopy strands from her sweaty pussy and into my waiting mouth. It was salty and bitter but I was too humiliated to concentrate on the taste. I felt her push and another thick glob came out.

"Close your mouth now dear."

Her fingers touched my chin and gently guided my mouth closed.

"There you go." She said as the next glob pushed all over my lips and chin. 

Now she lowered her whole self on top of me and rotated her hips there so her cummy pussy lips pained my face with my own seamen. 

She laughed the whole time she did it. But not a menacing evil laugh. It was more the laugh of a mother at her child, when the child did something incredibly cute that she couldn't help but laugh at. 

She finally released me and pulled off. She stood in front of me and pulled me to a sitting position. 

She looked me in the eyes and kissed my stained lips, slowly and tenderly. 

She whispered, our lips now joined by string of my own cum. "You need me," she said. 

"I need you," I repeated.

She kissed again, longer. I searched for the taste of her lips through the pungent smell.

"You want me," she whispered when our lips parted.

"I want you."

She smiled and her tongue emerged from her mouth and licked my lips clean.

"You love me," her final whisper.

"I love you so much." I could have cried it.

"Good boy."

She patted my head and got dressed. She told me to stay as I was and I was more than willing to do so. 

"I want you to clean up but do NOT brush your teeth, or eat a breath mint, or otherwise get rid of that taste in your mouth. I want you to think of that taste. I want you to savor it because you will taste it plenty more in the weeks to come. And I want you to get nice and close to that beautiful wife of yours and give her a nice cum smelling kiss. You got me?"

"I understand."

"Later you can call me and tell me what little excuse you came up with for her when she realizes you've gained a taste for it."

She put her jacket back on and headed for the door, barely stopping to give me a glance.

"I do so enjoy your company though Tom."

She smiled and opened the front door. Just before closing it she stuck her head back in. "Oh and Tom?"

"Yes?" I called back to her. 

"Tell me you love me again?"

"I love you so much Terry."

"Ahh, thank you." And she closed the door and was gone.