97 comments/ 157292 views/ 36 favorites Size Does Matter By: likegoodwine By Likegoodwinecopyrighted July 2011 Your votes and constructive comments are appreciated as they will help me grow. Thanks to Blackstallion21 for his fine editing * Chapter 1 The last few months have been a real eyes opener for my wife and me. Yes, size does matter! My name is Peter Smyth - with a y - and I am 37 years old. Up till two weeks ago, I thought that Maryanne and I had a very nice marriage. After 12 years of married bliss and three children, 10, 8 and 5 years old, our love life was a bit predictable but filled with a lot of love and affection. We were still two good-looking adults although not fashion magazine material, that's for sure. I am a bit less than 6' tall and weight 190 lbs. I have a little padding around the waist, but nothing too obvious. Maryanne is 5'4" and weight 140 lbs., with the same extra-padding that goes with our somewhat sedentary lifestyle, our diet, and -- for her - giving birth to three kids. And while we are on the subject, my penis is average in length (6") and width. So there is no reason my wife would find it impossible to deep throat me although she rarely did that in the last 10 years. Maryanne has been a bit distant lately, constantly nagging at me for absolutely no reason, getting irate over the smallest things and being totally irresponsive in the bedroom. We had our share of dry spells in our marriage, but now it was worrying me. This is without mentioning the many cases of blue balls that I developed in the last month when my only relief was self-induced. When confronted with the situation one evening, after the kids were in bed for the night, Maryanne denied at first that anything was wrong. But when I kept pushing her, she finally admitted that she was a bit concerned with a serious matter at work. When I offered to talk it over with her, as we often do when we are dissatisfied with our professional life, she simply brushed me off, saying that the issues would settle themselves in due time. I let it drop. In retrospect, I should have pushed harder, but it is now wishful thinking. One Friday evening, Maryanne asked me if I would mind keeping an eye on the kids the next day, as she had to go to work for a few hours. That was a weird request. It happens once in a while that we have to work on Saturday and the other is always left in charge of the kids. "No problem, Honey!" I answered. "Will you be back by lunch time?" "No!" she said evasively. "As a matter of fact, I will be going to work in the afternoon, not the morning." "Yeah, sure!" I said. And the matter was dropped. I tried again later to entice her for a little cozy time in the bedroom but Maryanne was too tired. We slept late the next morning, well as late as our 5 years old boy would allow. Shortly before noon, Maryanne went upstairs to get ready for work. When she came down, I was in for a surprise. Instead of coming in the kitchen were I was getting a little lunch ready for the kids, I heard her go straight for the front door. "I am on my way, Honey. See you later!" she yelled, and I heard the door slammed shut. I looked by the kitchen window. By stretching a bit, it is possible to see the driveway. The sight that greeted me was astonishing. Normally, when we go to work on Saturday, we dress casual: running shoes, jeans, t-shirt, sweater... Maryanne was wearing one of her nice close fitting black dress that she keeps mostly for our nights out, and some black lacy hoses. What the Hell! I tried to reach her on her cell but it must be turned off because each call went to voice-mail. And I was stuck home with the kids. Later, after feeding the kids and giving her time to drive to work, I phoned there. "Sunrise Insurance, Sam Morgan speaking!" Sam Morgan was the new office manager, coming from the head office three months ago. I never met him yet. "Hi M. Morgan. I'm Peter Smyth. Would it be possible to speak to my wife, please?" There was a silence for a few second on the line. "Hum... There is no Mrs. Smyth working here. You must have the wrong number. Sorry!" he finally said before hanging up. What the...! I dialed again. "Sunrise Insurance, Sam Morgan speaking!" "M. Morgan, It's Peter Smyth again! I know that you are new at the office, but I am trying to reach Maryanne, my wife. She's been working for Sunrise Insurance for the last 14 years." "Ho! I'm sorry. No, Mrs. Blair is not in yet. I expect her any minutes now," was his simple answer, an answer that swept me off my chair. I said thanks and hung up. I couldn't believe that Maryanne was going under her maiden name at work. What was the meaning of that? She has been Mrs. Maryanne Smyth for the last 12 years for Christ sake. I was about to phone back a third time at her work when a commotion erupted in the back yard. Kyle, our youngest, had made a fall and he was crying, holding up his hand that had taken the brunt of the fall. I took care of him, making sure it's was nothing serious, and he went back outside a few minutes later. When I phoned again at work, there was no answer, the call going to their answering service. I kept phoning, with the same result. My mind was in turmoil. I wasn't able to shake the dark clouds that seemed to be gathering over my marriage to Maryanne. I had plenty of hours to think back about the state of our married life. Maryanne's change of attitude toward me was at the forefront of it all. I had a feeling that she didn't love me anymore. She never said a word to that effect, but taking into account that she now goes under her maiden name, that she dressed extra sexy to go to work on a Saturday and that she isn't where she is supposed to be, I was sure that she was having an affair and that I was on the way out of her life. I was crushed! My life with Maryanne and the kids was everything to me. Unlike some colleagues, my work came second in my life priorities; my wife and my kids always came first. But now I was facing the obvious fact that my marriage was crumbling all around me. Yes, our marriage wasn't perfect, but I couldn't understand that she would betray us -- the kids and me - like that. Asking for a divorce is one thing I could understand. It would be painful, but I saw it happened to many couples over the years. However, going behind my back with some jock was downright hurtful and mean. I couldn't believe she would do that. I could swear on my mom's grave that Maryanne still loved me. I had to keep my calm. There has to be some explanation and I would ask for it, that's a given. I just had to take care of the kids and wait. By the time Maryanne made it back home, around 7 o'clock - no phone call to say that she would be late for supper - I was raving mad. Only the presence of our kids made me keep my anger in check when she came through the front door. One good look at her, no make-up left, her hair disheveled and without her hoses and it was obvious: she had just received a good fuck. She stopped in her tracks when she looked at me and saw the obvious anger written all over my face. I came to her and told her out of the kids' earshot: "After the kids are asleep, we will have a serious talk". She didn't say a word, guilt covering her from head to toe, and she rushed upstairs. Minutes later, I heard the shower going. I went upstairs. The bathroom door was locked, but a coat hanger had it opened in seconds. Maryanne was in the shower and her clothing lay in a pile on the floor. Or what remained of her clothing. There was no bra - I don't even know if she was wearing one this morning -- no hoses, and no panties - I didn't know either if she was wearing panties this morning. No panties? I checked the dress again, and there it was, discoloring the blackness of the dress: cum that had dripped from her pussy, probably while she was driving home. For the rest of the evening, there was a frosty silence between us. Even the kids sensed that something was wrong because they were also kind of subdued all evening. At 10PM -- "Come on Dad! It's Saturday!" - the kids were put to bed and Maryanne and me ended up alone in the living room. I sat on the armchair while Maryanne was on the couch looking at me with sadness and guilt. Before I even uttered a word, she started crying. "So?" I asked icily. "What do you have to say for yourself?" "I don't know what you mean?" she mumbled. "Oh, come on! You go to work on a Saturday wearing your nicest outfit, a bra, your panties and some panty hoses. You're not at work where you are suppose to be then you come back, no panty hose, no bra and no panties, dried semen all over your dress and you rush to take a shower," I growled. "You're behaving like a dirty slut in front of the kids and we are lucky that they are not older than they are. Why did you do that to me?" "I'm sorry Peter!" she said listlessly, her head hanging low. "Everything got out of hand." "For Christ sake, Maryanne!" I shouted. "Can't you at least acknowledge our 12 years together before going to fuck around? Couldn't you simply ask me for a divorce and helped me preserve some dignity instead of acting like a slut? Do you hate me that much?" She raised her head at the 'D' word. "No, no! It's not what you think Peter!" she said. "I don't want a divorce. I love you, and I love the kids and I don't want to lose you." "You're kidding me!" I said. "You go get yourself fucked and you think that I won't divorce you? You think I will ever be able to hold you in my arms without the urge to crush your windpipe? You think I will ever be able to make love to you, knowing that you are fucking around on me? Are you nuts?" "Please, Peter!" she answered. "Let me explain". "Explain what?" I yelled jumping from my chair. "Explain what a good fuck you had? Explain how my failings pushed you in another man's arms? If we weren't so strapped for cash, I would be already checked in a motel room somewhere, you cheating bitch!" "I was just curious Peter, that's..." she started to say. "Oh yeah! That will ease my pain," was my sarcastic retort. "I was curious to see how it would be fucking other men behind your back. Maryanne, where you curious to see my reactions to your whoring?" "No Peter! It wasn't supposed to happen like that. I..." "You crazy, stupid bitch!" I yelled, making Maryanne recoil from my angry outburst. "How can you say that it wasn't supposed to happen like that when I saw you dress up slutty to go to work? It happened because you wanted it to happen." "No, I mean that you were not supposed to find out..." she said. "Oh sorry! That makes a world of difference. I wasn't supposed to find out." I said, feigning a soothing behavior I didn't feel. "Ouf! I am relieved that it is only my crazy imagination that put us in this situation. It should have been so easier for you to..." my voice was raising. "... Fuck around without me knowing." "My goodness, what a mess!" I said dejected, sitting back on my chair. "Monday, I will stop to see a lawyer and start the divorce proceedings. In the meanwhile, let's try to make it easy on the kids. I will sleep on the couch and I will find a permanent place to stay..." "Nooo!" cried Maryanne. "Not a divorce. I don't want a divorce. We... we have a good life together. I love you. I really love you. Don't do this to us, Peter. Don't do that to the kids." "I never realized that you were such a stupid bitch, Maryanne. I did nothing. YOU DID! For a fling with whoever, you threw away 12 years of marriage. Your cheating broke this family, not me," I said, shaking my head, dumfounded by her behavior. "No Peter, don't do that," she paid pleadingly. "It has nothing to do with my love for you and the kids. I was just curious about something, about... about..." She wasn't able to finish and put her face in her hands and started crying. "Oh my God!" Well, I was also starting to be curious. "About what?" I finally spat at her. I had to pay real good attention at what she said next. It was less than a whisper. "About cock size..." she said. "The new manager had an affair with our secretary and she told us that he was big, huge, and... that she never felt so filled all her life. And I was real curious. It has nothing to do with my love for you" "Oh well, that's great!" I said my voice filled with irony. "I feel so much better now that you had a chance to experiment it at least once in your life. You will now be able to compare my cock with your lover's cock, and that's sure a bonus for our marriage". Maryanne look back up at me, hopeful. "You mean it?" she asked. "You are not too mad anymore?" "Don't move! Stay right where you are. I'll be back in a minute," I told her. I got up and rushed upstairs. I came back a few minutes later with a briefcase filled with all I needed for a stay at a motel. Strap for cash or not, I didn't want to be around Maryanne anymore. At the door, I turned toward Maryanne and told her: "I wish I could say 'Fuck you' but that's one thing I will never do with you ever again." And I was gone! *** (Maryanne) I couldn't believe what a mess I had done of things. I had lost my husband, a person that I loved so much, and all that for a big cock. What an idiot! Not long after M. Morgan came to work at the office, all the girls were smitten with him. He had some good looks for a middle age man and he exuded confidence. It wasn't long before Annie went to bed with him. Both were singles and it was sex with no string attached, a fact put on the table from the start. Things would have stayed that way if Annie hadn't been bragging about their sex together. Over a cup of coffee one morning, when M. Morgan was away from the office, we learned everything about him. Annie was ecstatic about his cock. It was about 10" in length and almost 3" in diameter. "I've never felt so filled my whole life," she said. She was an experienced woman at 42 years old and twice divorced. "That was the best sex ever!" From then on, cock size and sexual pleasures were the main topics of conversation at lunches and coffee breaks. The more we talked about it, the more curious I felt about M. Morgan's cock. It was hard not to look at his crotch when he was around. Well, you couldn't really tell what package he was hiding, but it kept me thinking. Don't get me wrong! I still love my husband and I have nothing to complain about our sex life, but I had a fixation for M. Morgan's cock. It is not love! I don't even call him by his first name, Sam. It was purely a stupid crush on a man's cock. For two months I kept thinking about it. Even when making love to Peter, I kept thinking what it would feel if he had a monster cock. I am so ashamed of my behavior. That, more than the actual sex with M. Morgan, was my betrayal of Peter's unconditional love. I have to face the sad reality that I cut him off in the bedroom for a whole month before my sexual needs found their release in an afternoon sex romp with M. Morgan. That fateful Saturday, I was scheduled for a simple overtime at work, knowing that I would be alone with M. Morgan. He had no inkling that I was determined to seduce him and see for myself what all the fuss was about. I must have been really obvious in my design toward him. As soon as he saw me in my sexy dress, he whistled. "Dam, you look eatable in that dress Maryanne!" he said. "To be honest M. Morgan, I wish you would think that I look fuckable in that dress", I answered, being more straightforward than I have been my whole life except with my husband. M. Morgan got up, came toward me and took me in his arms. He did put a huge French kiss on me then said: "Maryanne, let's go to my place and fuck the afternoon away." And that's what we did. Sure, his cock was huge. And as Annie has said, it filled me like never before, his cock touching places I didn't know could be touch. But I was a bit put off by the fact that he didn't make me feel that good when we fucked. Where was the "best sex ever" Annie talked about? He wasn't rough or anything, just not very delicate or attentive to my needs. If it wasn't my off the chart horniness and the fact that I was dripping of desire, he might have hurt me with his huge cock. He entered me without the benefit of much foreplay. It took him not more than 10 minutes before he filled my pussy with his cream. I felt really filled but I didn't come. It couldn't be only that! It's impossible that I had just cheated on my husband for nothing. For the next five hours I was adamant to experiment everything I could with his huge tool. I had to give him many blowjobs to raise him back to life and have him to fuck me to a few orgasms. He finally got tired about my determination. Around 6 o'clock, he simply threw me out of his apartment. I realized on my way home that I forgot to pick up my bra, my panties and my hoses. And when I got home, my pussy still hurting, I lost everything. And now, the kids are asleep and I lay alone in my bed. Peter has been gone for two weeks now. By the end of the first week, I had been served with divorce papers and told by Peter's attorney that he didn't wish to talk to me right now. However, we had to make arrangements for some visitation of the kids. Everything was spiraling out of control. I wanted Peter back with me so bad. Chapter 2 (Peter) The first month away from Maryanne has been awful. Not only her betrayal of my love had hurt me to the core, her appetite for a big cock had the effect to castrate me. When somebody rejects you for being inattentive, not enough loving or whatever other reasons, it causes pain, but nothing that can't be worked out. When you learn that the size of your cock is not up to their standards, it simply kills all your confidence in yourself. I was constantly thinking about cock size. As a man of average length, I never gave a lot of attention to the size of my cock; I had determined in college that I was all right in that department. After that, I heard all the reassuring talks: "It's not the size but the way you use it." But now, it was at the forefront of all my thinking. Darn, I even did some Internet research about penis enlargement and it did scare the shit out of me. On a basic level, I knew that Maryanne, having experienced a large cock, would never be able to avoid a comparison to mine. Why didn't she simply take a pair of scissors and chop off my dick? At least I would have bled to death! Not that constant pain to the soul I was now feeling. At work, they soon noticed that I was beside myself. After much probing from Sonya, my assistant, I finally explained my marital situation and that I was in the process of a divorce with Maryanne. I was a bit weary about telling her that. As a matter of fact, she has always been a bit flirty with me, and I sometimes felt awkward about it. Now it was worst, as I didn't have anymore a band around my finger to keep a decent distance between us, a boundary that she always respected. Sonya is 10 years my junior at 27 years old. She is quite an attractive young woman. I often looked at her very toned body, her long legs and a very nice and large pair of breasts, probably 36C. Her reaction when she learned that I was divorcing Maryanne was not one I expected. "Wow! Let's celebrate!" she said, obviously overjoyed. "What's there to celebrate?" I asked. "My marriage just crumbled around me after 12 years. It's not a cause for celebration, if you ask me." "No that, idiot!" she said laughing. "I celebrate because you are back on the market, an extremely nice looking bachelor, working right here in the office." And then she went back to her desk, her hips swaying from left to right while she cast me a devilish grin. Damn! That girl just made me feel great. In about 30 seconds. Size Does Matter But of course it was just a friendly jest and, later that evening, the gloom of my new life returned. Through our lawyers, Maryanne has been asking to forget the divorce, to go to marriage counseling. In my opinion, marriage counseling would have been a terrific idea before she decided to stray. After that, the harm was done. I refused politely but forcefully. One intensive month of introspection had been enough to make my mind: Maryanne was past history and there was no way I would ever get back to her. I found it harder to be apart from the kids. I was able to take them out on Saturday or Sunday, but the little flat I found was not big enough to have them for a sleepover. And they kept asking me to come back home. I was patient to explain to them that it was impossible without throwing too much dirt on their mother, and hurting them in the process. Nevertheless, it was always painful to see Kyle going back home crying after me. At first, Maryanne was waiting on the front lawn with the kids when I was picking them up. I made it quite clear however that I didn't want to hear a word from her and if she insisted to be there, to shut the fuck up. Yes I said it in front of the kids, and I am ashamed of it. But she did get the message. It took me two months to get out of my funk. I still was unable to think about Maryanne without some hurt, anger, and shame, but I regained slowly some confidence and desire to emerge strongly from my divorce. At 37, I was still young and I had to plan for the next 40 or 50 years of my life. Now the question was, what to do to find a good woman? I have been out of the courtship process for the last 15 years, since I started to date Maryanne. I was a bit rusty and didn't know where to turn. I have been telling it to a colleague, Tony, who did give me a few hints such as notable bars to meet single women or even some Internet dating services. Nothing appealed too much to me. Fortunately, Sonya came to my rescue. "Hi mate!" she said while coming in my office and sitting on a chair facing me. "I overheard you talking with Tony. You will excuse me if I cut in, but I have to tell you that you are going at it all wrong." "Why?" I asked. "Well! First of all, you talked like if you were looking for another wife," Sonya said. "That's too fast! What you should be looking for is a nice looking woman that would like to simply have sex with you, no string attached. A fuck friend, a friend with benefits or whatever you want to call her. You might find the next one, or you might just find some simple good sex. That's what you need to get yourself out of that sorry ass mood. Don't put too much pressure on yourself or on a helpless woman that only wants to know you, to enjoy your company." Sonya was right. As soon as I decided to get on with my life, I was already trying to figure out how and where to find my next wife. If I remember well, I have been dating for over five years before I met Maryanne. I sure hoped it would be faster to find the next love of my life, but I had to brace myself to be single for the near future. "Listen Mate!" Sonya added. "I know the woman just for you. I know that she always had a little thing for you but until now you wouldn't even give her the time of the day without showing your wedding ring. What about a blind date? You're up for it?" It took me all of a second to make up my mind and I accepted the blind date. Sonya told me then to be at her place around 7pm Friday, and to dress casual. At 7 pm right on the dot I was ringing her apartment doorbell. It is normal to be nervous when meeting a new woman on a blind date, but I was a nervous wreck. What would happen if I would end up in bed with a woman? Would she laugh at me with my 6" penis? Would I be able to satisfy her? Full of insecurity, I was almost ready to bolt and forget everything when I heard the door open. Sonya answered the door. Wow! She was gorgeous in a nice light blue outfit -- mini-skirt and tank top -- and for a second I wished she hadn't organized a blind date. She obviously wore no bra under her tank top. She offered a dazzling sight for a newly celibate man. I said so. "Sonya, you look stunning in that outfit," I said. Then I decided to be bold. "To be honest, I wish that my date changed her mind and that it would be only you and me tonight." And yeah, I blushed! I swear I was crimson red. I hadn't say such a compliment to a woman in years. Would she be put off with my open awe of her? She was smiling when she opened the door. Now, she was beaming. It seems I didn't lost my touch after all. "Well, thank you very much for your compliment," she answered. "But let me reassure you that your date is still on and very eager to be with you." She invited me to the living room and offered me a drink. After 30 minutes of nice and cozy conversation with Sonya, I finally asked her when my blind date would be there. "Are you an eager one?" she said, giggling. "It's almost 7:30 now, so the blind date should begin soon. I think I have to prep you a bit though!" There was a scarf on her coffee table. She reached for it and came closer to me. "Now, you will have to trust me. When I said a blind date, I meant it. I will now tie this scarf over your eyes, and your date will be meeting you, blind as you are," she said. That was strange. I heard a lot about blind dates, but never of a date where you had to be blind. But it was Sonya and I trusted her completely. I did let her tie the scarf over my eyes. "Now you wait," she simply said. I heard her getting up and going behind me toward the kitchen. Then I heard her coming back. She stood in front of me then -- for all I could tell -- she kneed down in front of me. I then sensed her hands on my knees. Her hands went slowly up my thighs, stopped for a fraction of a second over my now raging hard-on and continued their way up my body. Who was it? Why did I have to be blindfolded? Amid my bodily answer to these caresses, my mind was still trying to understand why I needed to be blindfolded. For a few moments, these thoughts were pushed aside when a pair of hands grabbed my head and some lips pressed against mines and a French kissed ensued. I answered in kind. The hands were getting more forceful on my body. One hand grabbed my cock and began to caress it through the fabric of my pants. And the kiss lasted for hours, it seemed. But who was at the other end of that kiss? That question kept coming back to me. Why the need for a blindfold? Some weird ideas crept into my head. Can't be a man, isn't it? I would know the difference. Then it hit me like a sledgehammer in the forehead: could it be that Sonya tricked me and Maryanne was there? Uncertain, I pushed my good kisser away and removed the blindfold. I let out a sigh! The woman sitting on my laps, kissing me, and having a field day with my cock, was no one else than Sonya herself. A wet dream comes true! "Surprise!" she simply said. Totally relieved, I resumed kissing her. "And a totally awesome surprise, if I may say so," I said when we broke off the kiss. "But why the mystery?" Sonya looked a bit discomfited. "I'm sorry Peter!" she said. "All those years working together, I really worked up a crush on you. A big crush! Each time I flirted, you didn't even give me a clue that you were interested in me. I felt really insecure. I wanted you. There was unexpectedly a chance to get you, but I didn't know if you were interested." I looked at her, took her head and planted a huge kiss on her. "Sonya, you are a really beautiful woman," I whispered. "I always thought that you were a very attractive woman. A woman able to turn my life upside down! Whilst I was married, I did everything to push that feeling away." I kissed her again. "But now, I don't want to resist," I said. "Now, I am only thankful that you might also be attracted to me." We made it soon to her bedroom. For the first time in 15 years, I was with another woman. It was fantastic! I had noticed her marvelous breasts. They were quite bigger than Maryanne's, even when she was pregnant. Until that moment, I didn't know that I was a breast man. In all the foreplay we did, much was spent on her breasts, caressing it, kissing it, sucking on her nipples. But it was only the start of a marvelous sex romp. Soon, I was at the entrance of her cunt. It had been licked good -- going on a couple of orgasms -- and it was real slippery. When my cock entered her, it was a revelation. I had to go in real slow in fear to hurt her. She was so tight! As much as I could, I slowed down my own orgasm. It was hard, as tight as she was and exerting much friction on my cock. When I sensed her coming, I finally let loose my cum. I filled her with two months worth of semen, and it felt real good. It was so good that we fucked the whole weekend away. I didn't know I could come so many times in a row, but Sonya made sure that I regained my strength and stamina. For the first time in two months, I felt real good with myself. Not only because of the wild sex, but because I was feeling so good in Sonya's company. We parted on Sunday, promising each other that it should not interfere with the way we interacted with each other at work, that we had to do it again next weekend. And we did! And the following weekends too. One month later, I received a call from Maryanne. We were only weeks from the scheduled hearing for our divorce based on 'irreconcilable difference'. "Peter." She began. "I have been seeing a counselor. And one thing I have to do is to apologize for what I did. Nothing else! Just to let you know that I feel really guilty for what I've done. Could you meet me? I know I am in no position to ask anything from you, but only for the sake of our children, can you find in yourself to meet with me and listen to me?" I thought about it for a few seconds. I was determined to proceed with the divorce and start my life without Maryanne. However, we had to work together to become civil toward each other if only to ease the pain our children would face. I still had a lot of anger toward Maryanne, but I had to let go. I guess some form of apologies would work to that end. "Ok!" I said. "I'll be there after supper, around seven." *** (Maryanne) I send the kids to Mom and Dad for that evening. Even if I wished to have Peter to see them with me, in our family surrounding, hoping that he would do the right thing for the family, I was too ashamed to have them around when I would apologize to Peter. He arrived a few minutes after 7, fashionably late. I was a wreck. It was a bit frosty. He seemed as distant as all the times I saw him since he left me. It wasn't making it easy for me. I had an urge to get on my knees, crawl toward him and ask him for forgiveness. Following the script devised with the help of my analyst, I spilled the beans, telling him everything. Nothing of my awful behavior was left unsaid. I also told him how bad I was feeling for doing that to him, how remorseful I was for the hurt I had caused him. He was still keeping silent. Long minutes would go on before I would stop crying and resume my apologies. "I don't know if all my remorse will ever be enough to convince you that I still love you and wish that you can find into yourself to forgive me," I said. "But that's all I can offer... because I can't take back what I did." Peter cleared his throat, a sure sign that he was about to say something serious. "Maryanne, I still don't know if I can get over what you did. For the moment, it is only a very remote possibilities," Peter said, pouring lead in my stomach it seemed. "There are two things I want to say before I leave." That wasn't following the script. Having opened my heart, taking all the blame of the situation, and professing my love, Peter was supposed to mellow a bit. He was supposed to realize that our marriage had a chance and that our kids, thrown in the balance, were worth trying to come back to me, "First," he said. "I have still a hard time with all the weeks you lied to me." I was left mute on that one. What lies for weeks? I lied to him that fateful day, but I never cheated on him before. What he said next made me realized that I didn't tell everything to my analyst. "When I asked you what was wrong, you gave me a white lie." Peter said. "You said it was something at work, which was true. It's not a simple white lie like when you asked me if your blue pants make you look fat. I said 'Not at all, baby! You look fantastic in these pants'. Well, now that I don't care about your reaction I can tell you: these pants make you look fat. No! You hid the fact that you had a crush on another man's cock. That, I still can't forgive." Oh my god! I wore those pants many times at work, with customers and for the benefit of Mr. Morgan. How could he? But my chain of thoughts was cut short when Peter continued to spill his guts. "Second, but not the least" he said. "I finally understand what you meant with the size of the sexual organ of your boss. I know now that it makes a real difference." Now I was totally lost! He was supposed to be absolutely hurt with that cock size thing. I spent over 400$ with my analyst on that -- two sessions. And now he was telling me that it made a difference? I didn't know what to say, but that didn't stop Peter. What he said next crushed me. "What I want to say is that I finally found that we can't be together anymore." He said, a statement that simply knocked me out. "Sorry about that Maryanne, but I found out by myself that size does matter." Was he about to absolve me? Was he about to understand and forgive me? Did he go queer and go out with a guy? "I have to be truthful with you, something you didn't feel I was entitled to. I am saying this because I met a woman recently. I met a woman with breast larger than yours. It was awesome! For years I told you that your breasts were just fine, but now I know I was deluding myself. B cup just doesn't cut it. Not enough in the hand, and almost not enough in my mouth. On top of that, she never had any kids. So her vagina was real tight. I never felt anything like it since our first years together, since you had our kids. I didn't remember how good it felt to fuck a woman with a tight cunt. I am ashamed to say that I could never go back to a loose vagina like yours. I couldn't help always thinking how wonderful it was with my mistress compared to your pussy. I understand now your need of a big cock. Your pussy is way too loose for an average cock like mine. And your pussy is way to slack to satisfy a guy like me, a guy that experienced something better. I'm sorry, but we have no future together. Size does matter, at least to me." I sat, dumbfounded and said nothing when he left the house. Nothing went as planned. *** (Peter) I didn't feel that good after meeting Maryanne. Sure the few jabs I gave her were worth it! No she didn't look that bad in her blue pants! And yes, I did feel that I would never be able to fuck her without thinking about a nice juicy tight cunt, like Sonya offered me. But over the next few weeks, everything turned for the best. Maryanne signed the divorce papers and I soon had a free pass to date and fuck Sonya. Who said that two wrongs don't make it right? I don't know what is in store between Sonya and me in the long run, but at the moment I love every moment of it. She can't have children but she is very good with mine and they finally started to like her too. Yes, life can be good after a divorce.