She was Size Curios

She Was Size Curious

"Do you believe people who say size doesn't matter?" my wife asked after an energetic session of Saturday-night fucking.

"I think it is all in the head," I said. "If you think it does, it will. It's like tits. I think big and small tits taste the same. Some guys get blue balls over big tits. So, are you getting curious?"

"Yeah, but just curious," she said.

"Enough to want to sample the merchandise?" I asked.

"Julia says Mark has a 'horse cock.' That's what she calls it," she said. "Says she loves it. So, I was just wondering."

"She loves him. Horse cock comes with the package," I said. "My little six and a half got you having masturbatory fantasies about your friend's hubby's big dick?"

"Oh, nothing like that," she said, "but... "

"But if she offered her horse cock, you'd give it the old college try?" I said more sarcastically than I meant. "Right?"

"I am a married woman," she said. "Though Julia says Mark has a girlfriend."

"You want a boyfriend?" I asked.

"It's just curiosity," she said.

"Kills the cat," I said.

"What?"

"Curiosity left a dead cat," I said. "You think size makes a difference?"

"Julia says it does," she replied.

"She'd know," I said. "Or she just loves him."

"Could you handle it? Like Julia does?" she asked, pushing far enough to make her point.

"I am getting vibrations like you're wanting to try a loner. Am I right?" I said. "You want to try a big one?"

"I am just curious," she repeated. "Not saying I would, but I was just thinking. I am not seriously considering it."

"I am thinking you are considering fucking a horse cock," I said, "more than you're admitting. So, if I said go ahead, would you try one? You curious enough to get horizontal with a stallion-sized pecker?"

"Could you handle it if I did?" she asked.

"Why would I want to handle a stallion-sized pecker?" I joked.

"Could you handle me fucking one?" she said angrily.

"I'd be curious what you think after you have tried one. I don't think you'd leave me for someone else, because I am so fucking hot," I said with a silly smile.

"Conceited too," she said. "When I talked to Julia she asked if I wanted to try Mark."

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I said I was a married woman," Claire said.

"So, give it a try. Tell me afterwards what you think," I said. "Ride the big stallion and tell me if it is better," I encouraged.

"But I am married," she said.

"I'll give you a free pass," I said. "Have it notarized and everything. Works for Julia, swingers, housewife whores."

"Housewife whores? There are housewife whores?" she said.

"Of course," I said. "Haven't you ever watched 'Housewife Whores of Beverly Hills?"

"That's not a real show," she said.

"But it should be," I said. "People would watch."

I turned on my side and raised up on an elbow, smiled. "Why don't you tell Julia that you are curious and you wonder if she'd allow her husband to satisfy your curiosity? Tell her you want to do research, test the theory. Seriously."

She looked at me like I had just suggested she proposition the Pope. "You know you won't be happy until you find out," I said. "If size matters, at least you'll know. Then you can feel bad because you only married a six incher."

"Six and a half," she said.

She called Julia at my insistence and told her she needed to talk with her. "Does this have anything to do with my husband?" she asked.

"We thought I should talk to you about some personal matters," she told her.

"Like his size?" she asked. "Yes, it matters, at least to me. You want to see if it does to you?"

"I was just curious," she said. "Just wondering."

"Everyone's curious," Julia said. She started to laugh. "Girl, everybody wonders. You are just lucky enough to know me," she said with wide grin. "Sure, Mark is always willing to help people learn the truth about size. Text me your picture on my phone. Mark has standards. If he likes your looks, are you available this weekend?"

"I could be ready tonight," my wife said.

"Mark is busy tonight. He has a wife to satisfy, but this weekend he is available."

When she got off the phone with Julia, she came back in the kitchen and I could see excitement in her eyes. "You off to do some research?" I asked. She simply nodded.

"Saturday," she finally said.

From that day to Saturday her mood was as high as an elephant's eye. It was clear she wanted to find out if bigger was better than simply average. Her natural curiosity was getting the best of her. What I was interested to know was, how would she react if she found out it was true?

Would she be satisfied to know bigger is better, but not essential, or would she be disappointed with what she has and want a husband with a bigger implement? I knew I couldn't measure up, but if personality counts for anything I knew I had a shot at keeping her. Why would I want to allow her that freedom, some might ask, if she could run off just because a guy is short in the shorts? Well, because she cooks really, really well; laughs at my jokes; and is very, very good at what she does in bed horizontally; so I want to keep her.

She and Julia made arrangements for the coming weekend. Claire would go to their house at five. Julia would stay, but she would leave them alone for a couple of hours. She figured that would be enough time for my wife to find out if big was really all it was cracked up to be.

So how did I feel about my wife riding the sheets with a fellow who had a big one? I figured I'd rather have her know than wonder and wish. I didn't think bigger would make her leave, but I thought finding out big was only an illusion, that realizing that it was not that much better would be good. However, if she preferred a big one, then perhaps the way of keeping her was to accommodate that desire. Maybe it was the best way to let her have some freedom and not stand in the way. Having her spend some time sexually exploring with someone else perhaps was not the worst thing in the world. Losing her would be. Holding a bird too tight just might smother it.

I realized I could do that if it meant just tolerating a little sexual privilege for my wife and not placing a condition on her she would not be able to live with. I had convinced her I was serious. I had let her know I actually wanted her to if that is what she really desired. She was size curious, and the only way to know, I had realized was to find out by doing it.

After I had talked to Julia, told her I wanted Claire to find out for herself if size really does matter, I prepared myself for the big test. I dropped by the library where she works and got there about noon so I could talk to her privately. She was in the lounge getting ready to eat when I came in.

"So, my wife is going to be schooled by your husband about whether size matters?" I said.

"It does, believe me," she said. "Although other things matter as well. You okay going up against 'horse cock?'" she asked. I told I hoped I offered other things tat she likes. "I am sure you do. No one runs off with a horse cock for just that reason," she said. "I am sure you offer other good things."

I certainly hope so, I thought. Now that her time with Julia's husband was scheduled, I only had to wait for it to happen. To say I was calm was far from accurate, but I was not terrified either. I was far more confident than I had any right to be, but something told me not to worry.

The day of the big event arrived, and I could see she was as excited as a chicken in a pack of wolves. Funny, but I got excited as well. It was like we were going to experience something together. I watched her get ready, even helped her with some things.

I shaved her pussy hair in the bathroom while she sat on the edge of the tub with her legs open, looking down nervously as if I was going to nick her in the wrong place with the razor. Carefully, I trimmed and shaved her mound, removing the lather, making it smooth and soft for her friend's husband. Amazingly, I wanted to make it ready and attractive for him. I wasn't sure why, but it turned me on to prepare her.

When she sat on the tub looking at me smiling, I told her I loved her. "I love you too," she said. She left the house thirty minutes before she was supposed to meet him. I was nervous and excited, and I fussed around, trying to pass the time without thinking what she was doing.

At two in the morning I heard her at the backdoor. Her key sounded in the lock and I pretended to be asleep. She came into the bedroom and started to get undressed. I raised up on an elbow and smiled.

"Well?" I said. "Fantastic?"

She sat down on the bed and leaned over and kissed me. "I'll take average any day," she said. "Size does matter, but like using a sledge hammer on a fine watch, it's just the wrong tool. I love Julia, but her husband is not my style. He's like a bull in a China shop."

She put her arms around me. "It hurt," she said with a smile. "It was not pleasant. It was fucking, not making love. I'll take making love any day. I'll take average and loving over big and brutal. It was not fun."

She cuddled against me. "I'll take you any day and twice on Sunday. Let's make love," she said, snuggling against me. "Size matters," she said, "but not always for the best. Caring and gentleness matters more. Big is not better, it's just larger. I learned a great lesson," she said. "Love matters. Average can fill you wonderfully. Put it in me and make love to me with it," she urged quietly. "Let me feel you in me and let me know you care."

She began moving with me as I slid it slowly into her, moving myself back and forth in her sweet canal. She held me tight against her, forcing me deep into her, holding me in by squeezing her muscles and her legs together.

"I know now I have the perfect size. It fits in me so flawlessly," she said. Her movements matched mine precisely, holding herself against me and pressing her body tight to mine.

"You didn't fall in love with big?" I asked.

"Big is not best, I know now," she said. "The perfect size is the one that loves you without demands or phony fondness. What I learned was that sex is best that comes from love not measurements."

She leaned back away from me and looked at my face. "I don't need variety," she said.

"I need devotion and what you gave me, unconditional love."

Our sex didn't always hit the highest note, but it always was a concert that we sang together and made the most beautiful melody possible. At one point she wondered whether bigness was better, but she learned that bigness was an illusion that could beguile you into falling for its hoax.

She never slept with anyone else again, and we have been married for fifty years. Her size curiosity led her to investigate that concept, and she decided on what she figured was the truth of the matter. The fact is, if you want size to matter it can, but it is what you like that makes all the difference. Like chocolate ice cream, it's all in the taste buds.