I confessed over a bottle of wine to my husband that I was attracted to this younger guy, Merrick, with whom I had been communicating via Zoom for work. He lives in San Diego and I live in Santa Barbara and we had only met once in person at a company event, but the vibe was definitely there, even though he was fifteen years younger than me. When I confessed this to my husband, Dave, I was so surprised by his reaction.
We have two small children, are in our 40s and are very happily married. Dave is everything to me. He’s a great father, a great husband, and everybody loves him — he’s always the life of the party.
Unfortunately, he has a small penis.
It’s not the Planck length, but yeah, sometimes it’s pretty hard to see. The head retracts up into the shaft sometimes and it seems like he has no penis at all.
It’s sad, really, and he knows it’s sad, and I know it’s sad, but we don’t let it stop us from being a really happy couple.
I mean, I had some good penises before I met Dave, so I don’t feel like I missed out on anything, but sometimes Dave worries about that. So I guess that’s why he reacted the way he did when I told him I was attracted to this guy. That we had been flirting online so much. That I had sent him a topless picture of myself. And that he had responded with a dick pic. And it was a big dick.
“You should invite him up for a visit,” Dave said. “See what happens.”
Wow. That was the last thing I expected. I actually was thinking that this confession might send us to couples’ therapy so we could “work it out.” Well, instead, we ended up working it out a different way.
I did invite Merrick up to visit me. But of course, I couldn’t invite him to our house, with the kids and so on. Instead, Dave very sweetly found me a nice little Airbnb on the beach here in town — $600 a night! Wow! And he told me that he would take care of the kids for as long as I liked — we would just tell them Mommy was going away on business.
I could have gone to San Diego to see Merrick, but I wanted to be close enough so if one of the kids needed me I could be there for them. Dave felt better about having me close too.
So the weekend of Merrick’s arrival came, and Dave helped me stock up the Airbnb with some wine and some food — the idea was that Merrick and I could cook some meals together, hang out, see what happens, no pressure.
It was such a generous thing, I was almost in tears as Dave was about to leave the Airbnb.
“Thank you, honey,” I said to him. “Are you sure you’re OK with this?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “I know you love me. I know you are committed to our kids and our family. And I feel absolutely no threat from a crush you have on a young guy from work. You deserve this. You’ve kept yourself in such great shape. You’re totally hot. And you deserve to have a little break from all this child-raising and so on. Just have a few days’ time out and enjoy this guy. Fuck his brains out. Just warn him that he shouldn’t fall for you and it’s just — you know — a fun thing.”
“I will,” I said.
How little I knew myself. I was fairly confident that I could do exactly as my husband said. He was right. I loved my kids, I loved my husband. I just wasn’t prepared for it to be as emotional as it was with Merrick. That threw me for a real loop.
Let’s just start with this — Santa Barbara is pretty much paradise. Seventy-two degrees and sunny, nearly every day of the year. And a house on the beach there is just about as good as it gets. It was just a little bungalow, with one bedroom, but it was steps from the sand. And it was so cute.
Merrick finally arrived about an hour late after getting stuck in a traffic jam — I was so nervous for the whole two hours before he showed up that I was actually shaking. Finally I heard a car pull into the driveway and I went out to meet him. We just gave each other a friendly hug and he dragged his overnight bag into the bungalow.
Merrick was a fitness nut and was totally hot. He was wearing a tank top that showed his bronzed muscles. I could practically see his ab muscles rippling underneath it and I was like, holy shit, am I going to get this guy naked in a little while — lucky me!
We first went for a walk on the beach and he broke the ice by reaching for my hand. It felt totally natural. We walked a few miles up and down this paradise and before we went back into the bungalow he told me he wanted to stop and enjoy the sunset. We stood there on the sand looking up at the pink sky and then he told me he wanted to kiss me. I told him to go ahead. He kissed me and that was the first sign of trouble — I felt something stirring in my heart as our mouths met. Something I had never felt before. I mean, yes, I was horny, and I wanted to kind of use this dude for my pleasure. And yes, it was absurd to think we could be together. I was old enough to be his aunt. But yes, I felt weightless for a second, as though we were floating above Santa Barbara. As though our souls were touching.
Merrick must have felt it too. After our kiss he looked at me very seriously.
“Wow,” he said. “I did not expect that…I mean, we’ve been having such a fun, flirtatious thing, and I kind of expected it to be more of that this weekend, Leslie. But that was…”
“I know,” I said. “I’m as surprised as you are, trust me.”
“You felt it too,” he said, sincerely and vulnerable.
“Yes,” I said softly, frightened to hear the words. “I felt it in my heart.”
Then our faces smashed together urgently and we let our passion loose. Our tongues went crazy out there on the sand and we were grabbing each other so tightly, and moaning, really aroused.
“I want you so bad,” I said.
“I want you too!” he responded.
It was like a sexual fantasy coming true, really. I remember him naked — this unfamiliar naked hottie on this unfamiliar bed. I was becoming unfamiliar to myself. I had never felt myself open up this way. I pulled my bra and panties off and pressed my body against him. I wanted to merge with him. I wanted to lose myself in his sexiness.
He was really hard right away, his big dick shooting straight into my side. It wasn’t like with my husband — all those torturous nights trying to suck his little penis, praying for a little hard on. This was, well… this was like being with a virile stud, as opposed to being with a neutered pony.
“So hard!” I said.
“I know,” he replied. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as…”
“Shhh,” I said. “Don’t say it. Merrick, listen, you have to know, this can never go anywhere. I’ve got kids, I love my husband. So don’t talk too much about what is obvious to both of us, OK, let’s just experience it.”
“Agreed,” he said. He looked a little scared, like he knew this was going to be fun but he also knew it was going to hurt him in the end.
I knew it was going to hurt me in the end, too. Damn! Why did I have to have feelings! I finally get a chance to have a good romp and these feelings come barreling in and I get all emotional.
“You’re crying,” he said as he pushed his cock into me. He reached down and touched my face.
“I am?” I said, because I didn’t feel sad.
“Tears of joy,” I said.
Because it felt so joyous to have a big penis inside me. It felt like I had come home to being a woman. That I had been the man in the relationship with my husband, even though the kids came out of my womb. After that, he had been more like the mother to them. I had been so busy with work, and him much less so. He watched them and played with them and nurtured them. I was more like the absent Dad.
But now I was a woman again. And this younger man was reminding me what it was to surrender, to open myself up to emotions, not to control everything, but to let go, to really let go and to…
Oh my God!
I felt my whole body shake and I realized I was climaxing.
I hadn’t had a vaginal orgasm in over a decade. I forgot how powerful they were. Sure, Dave could eat me out and make me come. But this was different.
Oh my God!
For the next three days we cooked and cuddled and laughed and fucked and walked along the beach. A couple times I checked in with my husband. He asked me to send him some pics so I sent him some selfies we took arm in arm on the beach and he replied with the big thumbs up and the heart and was so gracious about it all.
“Your husband is fucking weird,” said Merrick when he saw the happy emojis sent back to these pics. It kind of hurt my feelings, him saying that, but I could tell then that Merrick was getting, believe it or not, jealous of the guy he was cuckolding.
“Don’t be jealous,” I said to him gently. “He’s no threat to you.”
“No threat to me?” he laughed, and there was suddenly a coldness to his laugh that hadn’t been there before. A touch of cynicism. “He fucking owns the woman I want! How can he be not be a threat to me?”
“He doesn’t own me,” I corrected him. I tried to explain to this young man how a real marriage is nothing like ownership. It’s pure partnership. I walk side by side through life with my darling husband. And he adores me so much that he was actually willing to let me have this little time out. It was the opposite of ownership — it was pure service.
“Well, seems like I’m the one providing the service,” said Merrick. “And I’d like to provide you with at least one more servicing before I go.”
The last “servicing” was intense. Merrick was going to drive back to San Diego and I was going to go back to my husband and kids. And it was fairly obvious we would never do this again. It was too good. We had found a perfect sexual match for each other. I, being more experienced, was able to introduce Merrick to some new things, and to kind of teach him how to really please a woman. For instance, I had masturbated for him and shown him how to rub my clit just right. I had put my hand on his hand and moved his fingers in the rhythm I liked. And now I wanted to introduce him to something he had never done. The art of anal sex.
With my husband, of course, this had been not such a “big” deal. But I was a little nervous about having all that meat inside me. But it was what I wanted. I certainly didn’t want to be wondering all my life about what it would be like to give all of me to this younger man.
I got on all fours on the bed and I told him to put some lube on my ass and to go in gently, half inch by half inch. Meanwhile I took my little bullet vibrator and put it on my clit as he slowly put that huge thing in my butt. When he was halfway in I don’t know what, it was like he hit my soul switch and I started sobbing and speaking from the very bottom of my soul, telling him how special he was and what a beautiful young man he was, and how he would one day make a woman so happy. He complained that I was the woman he wanted to make happy. And I told him he had made me happy, happier than I had ever been. But that one day the true mate of his soul would appear. He tried to deny it. “No, you are the true mate of my soul!”
“Alright,” I agreed, finally. “I admit it. I am the true mate of your soul. So fuck me all the way in my ass, soulmate. Fuck me hard! And for the last time!”
“It won’t be the last time!” he argued.
“It’s the last time, Merrick,” I shouted. “Fuck me like it’s the last time!”
And then a little anger came into his fucking. I felt him ripping into me at a great rate as he pushed that big thing all the way in and all the way out and he shouted at the top of his lungs, like Ahab shouting at God in Moby Dick, I thought. It was like he was complaining to God about this being the last time, but he knew it too.
We both knew it.
I exploded in a crazy orgasm and it must have made my asshole pucker because it clenched against his big dick and squeezed him to an immediate orgasm. I felt a river of cum shoot into my ass. And I dissolved into tears. He held me close and I could feel his face. It was wet too.
This was goodbye.
“So,” my husband said when I walked in — with some difficulty. “Are you alright? You seem to be limping?”
“I’m good,” I said. “I’m very good. Thank you for these three days, darling. Thank you so much. I’m going to go up and lie in the bath for a few hours. I have to process some things.”
“I understand,” he said, stroking my arm.
Never was there a kinder and more understanding man.
I guess that’s why I cried so much in that bath. I cried so much that I worried at one point — will my tears make this bathwater overflow, and fill the house of my marriage with such a flood that my whole family will drown in this bittersweet water?
Or will this whole thing just blow over like an autumn storm and the November rain, and soon everything will be 72 and sunny like it always is here in Santa Barbara?
