It's Not the Size That Counts
Copyright© 2013 by Aquea
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Steven and Sarah have an unusual problem - Steven is too big. Can they make it work? This story has been reworked, re-edited, and finally finished. I'll release a new chapter every few days.
I gasped when I saw it for the first time.
"You've got to be kidding. Like you've never seen a penis before!" he laughed. "It's even part of your job."
"Yes, Steven, of course I've seen a penis before. I just hadn't realized quite how ... large you are," I replied. "That thing's a monster!"
"As if!" But his ego swelled just a little, I could tell.
In truth, it probably fit the description of 'normal'. Well, the large side of normal, anyway. It certainly wasn't one of those twelve inch cocks you read about in porn magazines. But it was a good seven inches, and bigger around than my less-endowed ex-boyfriends. More than big enough for me, in fact...
"This could be a problem, you know."
The next logical step in the conversation, unsurprisingly, was "Huh? Why?"
How to explain? Hmm. Not really the time, I decided. We could talk about it later. Besides, as much as I knew it couldn't last, I wasn't eager to break up with the man who'd had me moaning with such passion recently. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow...
"More action, less talk," I demanded, and fitted my actions to words. I leaned in to press my lips to his again, and slid my hands back into his lap where they'd been moments before. A soft nip of his lower lip made him groan, reaching around me with one arm to tangle his fingers in my hair, and the other hand returning to my exposed, painfully erect nipple. We continued to maul each-others' mouths, his tongue demanding entry, and my own welcoming it in with a hesitant touch. My hands were roaming up and down his erection, stopping to swirl a finger through his pre-cum every other stroke or so.
Using his grip on my hair as leverage, he cocked my head back and proceeded to nibble his way up and down my neck, his tongue lightly tickling me, punctuated with harder bites which made me twitch. My neck is so damn sensitive ... and that man knew exactly how to use it to his advantage. He kept alternating nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. It was driving me insane.
His hand creeping from my breast down my belly was interrupted when my digital watch started beeping. Flinching apart, we both glanced at the time.
"Shit! I'm so sorry. I'm gonna be late. Can you give me a ride to the emerg?" I jumped up off the couch and started tucking myself back into my clothes, smoothing my hair out. I smiled as sweetly as I could as I watched him stand and struggle to zip his fly up over his raging erection. He gave me a forgiving smile, and we headed to the car.
"J, sweetie, could you give me a ride home?" I asked nine hours later. I had worked hard in the emergency room - the usual colds and injuries, but I'd also had to tell two people they had cancer. That little part of my job drained me immensely, and I was exhausted. Normally I would walk home - I'd always had a weight problem and didn't want it getting ahead of me again - but I was just too tired. Besides, my gay friend was the perfect person to talk with about my little problem. The 'J' stood for Jonathan, a name he hated. No one called him that, except maybe his mother - a prissy, matronly, society woman who was deeply ashamed of her son's sexuality. After a ten minute drive, we sat in J's car outside my apartment.
I was thoughtful and quiet the whole way home, and J, never one to miss something like that, sat patiently and waited for me to spill my guts.
"I met someone," I started. "His name's Steven." I proceeded to tell the whole tale.
Steven was an architect, who just happened to work with one of my old friends from university. He was one year older than me (which made him 29), owned a house and a totally sweet golden retriever. He was probably what most people would describe as average looking, but he had a bunch of characteristics which made him practically irresistible to me. He was tall - maybe 6'3" - with dark brown, almost black hair. He was built big, although he was not really overweight, but not a body builder either. Solid. His skin was considerably darker than mine, although being as pasty white as I am it's almost impossible not to be darker than me. He had a combination that makes me swoon every time – dark, dark hair, with impossibly luminescent blue eyes.
As you can probably tell, I was smitten. Badly.
We'd met the first time about a month before at a party at my friend's place. I'm pretty sure it was a set-up, since I was the only one in the house who didn't work with them. Not that I minded; I'd been single for a couple of years, and was still feeling somewhat guilty over my last, very ugly break-up. I was also getting pretty sick of going to weddings and parties without a date, or worse - with a gay guy friend. Who inevitably found some other cute gay guy there and disappeared within ten minutes. But that's another story.
The funny part is that I think Sharon was trying to set me up with this guy Richard, who was very classically good-looking, but not even close to my type. He started talking to me right away, and as I shortly found out, he was extremely self-important. Maybe he was just nervous, but within about five minutes I was ready to smack the guy. I'd heard all about his career, his money, his family, his plans, everything you could imagine - and he was still talking. I'm not convinced he even knew my name.
I went to the 'little girl's room' in an effort to escape, and after standing in there for ten minutes doing nothing, I managed to slip out through the living room, and out Sharon's back door. It was drizzling rain, so I figured no one would think to look for me there, and I'd get a few minutes to collect myself before having to face the lion's den again. I was wrong. There was a guy sitting outside, in the back-yard gazebo, who started guiltily when he saw me come outside. I hurried to the gazebo, and sat on the bench across from him, out of the rain.
"You must be Sarah." I nodded. "Sharon told me you would be here. Are you having fun?" I saw a mischievous glint in his eye, and realized he knew about the set-up.
"I'm having a fabulous time! Why else would I be sitting out here in the rain?" He laughed. "Who're you, anyway?"
Steven and I ended up talking all night, sitting outside in the rain. He admitted that he was also hiding outside, from a computer-geek co-worker who wanted him to play some playstation game with him. He asked me about my job, and before long he was laughing his ass off as I told 'war stories' from various shifts I had done in the emergency room. He told me about being an architect, about losing his parents when he was fifteen in a car accident. He was fascinated by me being a doctor - I don't really know why, it usually seems pretty mundane to me - but that night I was on fire, telling tales and sharing my passion about my job. He really brought out the best in me, I think, and by the end of the night, we were as comfortable together as old friends.
By the time I had to leave, the rain had picked up, and since he'd already asked for my number, I was getting prepared to dash out to my car. Instead, he borrowed Sharon's umbrella, and walked me out. As we stood by my car, with the driver's door open, he reached over and gently tugged on one of my curls, which was a tight ringlet due to the humidity. His touch felt good, and I instinctively leaned into his hand. Tracing my jaw with his fingers, he lifted up my chin, bent down, and kissed me. I don't think I can possibly describe the feeling - I guess the cliché about fireworks going off is about the closest I can get - and something similar must have happened for him, because as we drew apart, his eyes opened and his mouth hung open in surprise. I smiled, then hopped in my car and drove away, leaving him standing there with the umbrella, looking shocked. My hands were shaking, and two blocks later I had to pull over to get control over myself again. I'd never experienced anything like that kiss, and if I hadn't driven away I'm fairly sure I would have hopped in the sack with him that night, something I swore to myself I'd never do.
I once watched a movie called "Clueless", in which Alicia Silverstone waxed philosophical about something she called 'boy time'; and since I whole-heartedly believed everything I saw in movies, I didn't expect to hear from Steven for a week or so, if he called at all. So imagine my surprise when he called the next day. He asked me out for dinner.
We went to a nice, small, intimate Italian place he knew, and the owner there called him by name. When he got up to use the men's room, the owner (whose name was, predictably, Luigi) and his wife came over to say hello, and basically to snoop. After chatting for a minute or two, Luigi asked me straight out what my intentions were towards Steven. I must have looked shocked, or maybe confused, because they both laughed. They got up and went back to work before Steven returned to the table; he asked me what was wrong, but I just shook my head and passed it off. We had a wonderful Italian meal, and Steven got to laugh at me for my weird pickiness when it comes to food. I am allergic to mushrooms - and vomiting on a date looks really bad - and I despise seafood something fierce. So I had a nice chicken fettuccini alfredo, and Steven had some kind of seafood pasta dish. We shared a carafe of red wine. We laughed a lot and talked about anything that came to mind; again it was like we'd been friends forever. When we got up to leave, Steven helped me into my coat then took my hand. We thanked the owners, who told me in a stern voice that "Steven is very important to us and we wouldn't want to see him hurt." Luigi winked at me, and we all laughed at Steven who was blushing furiously.
Walking out to our cars hand-in-hand, I asked Steven about Luigi and his wife. It turned out he had lived next door to them after his parents died and he moved in with an aunt, and as they were childless, they had adopted him as their honorary son. I became retroactively nervous - he had just done the equivalent of introducing me to his parents!
At my car, we once again shared a mind-blowing kiss. And then one kiss turned into two, and then three and four. When we separated, I was panting to catch my breath, as was he. He pulled away with an obvious effort to restrain himself, but he caught my hand in his and kissed my fingertips.
"When can I see you again?" he asked. I considered my schedule, and realized that starting the next day I had four grueling night shifts in front of me. We decided to make plans for the fifth day, and he said he'd call me then to confirm and tell me where we were going. As he walked to his car, he let my hand go with reluctance, and I got in my car. My hands were trembling again, but I was able to drive home.
Despite having made our plans, Steven called me every day between the two dates. Just to say hi, he said. I loved it.
For our next date, Steven picked me up at home, and we actually went hiking in the afternoon, then companionably ate fast food in the car. We ended up back at my apartment, which fortunately I'd recently cleaned. There was a good chick flick on TV, and as we sat on the couch watching the movie, he put his arm around me and I snuggled up to his side. He started playing with my hair, which soon had me purring in appreciation, leaning against his chest with my eyes closed. I didn't even notice when the movie ended until he gently kissed my forehead.
I looked up at his face, and his blue eyes were almost glowing in the dim light. As we slowly closed the gap between us, I felt my heart skip a beat, and then our lips met. It felt like hours we just sat there and kissed, gently at first but then more passionately. He continued playing with my hair, and his fingers brushed against my neck. I stiffened in surprise and let out a groan; he pulled away from my lips and looked into my eyes for permission before moving in and caressing the side of my neck with his lips. The combination of his lips and breath on my neck had me gasping for air, and I basked in it for as long as I could stand before pushing him away, climbing into his lap, and attacking his mouth again with my own. I could feel his hardness pressed against my thigh, and I playfully wiggled against it, making him groan into my mouth. I took the opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth, and our tongues started wrestling. His hands were roaming all over my back, pulling me tighter to him. Again I felt his erection against my leg, and suddenly realized what I was doing. I was so horny I was just about ready to rip his clothes off and drag him to my bed; I knew I didn't want that. Any relationships that I'd had that got too physical too fast had gone badly, and I didn't want to go that way again with this one. I pulled away rather abruptly, and I must have looked a bit frightened; Steven immediately backed off and asked if I was okay. I nodded, but he obviously didn't believe me; he lifted me up off his lap, placed me on the couch beside him, and then pulled me close to cuddle my face into his chest. His hands were squarely on my shoulders, rubbing in little reassuring circles.
"I'm so sorry; I pushed you too fast. I lost control. It won't happen again. Can you forgive me?" he asked, his hands never stopping their circles.
"Steven, it's not your fault. There's nothing to forgive. I was just as in to it as you were. I just think ... maybe we should slow down a little? Just for tonight?" I pleaded with him, looking into his eyes.
We spent the next hour cuddling and talking, before he got up to go. He kissed me gently at the door, like I was a breakable porcelain doll. "Not that slow," I teased him, and pulled his face down for one of our soul-shattering kisses.
Over the next three weeks, we continued to see each other regularly. Each time it was the same story; we would either go for a meal, or for some activity; afterwards we'd end up cuddling and fooling around. The temptation when I was with him was almost impossible to resist; while we went a little further each time, we didn't ever push things too far. Which meant that later each night, alone in bed, I'd masturbate frantically, thinking about how his hands felt on me, how his lips burned trails of fire down my neck, how I always wanted more. Sharon told me he talked about me incessantly to her at work. That made me smile. I'm sure my big grins made my co-workers suspicious, but I didn't tell anyone about him. I wanted to keep him to myself, just for a while.
This all led up to the fateful night when I first saw the monster he carried between his legs.
"So what's the problem?" asked J. "He sounds perfect."
"Oh, but J! He'll rip me apart with that thing." J started laughing. He was a nurse I had gotten to know very well over the last year, and one of my good friends. He knew the tendency I had towards melodrama; but this time I was deadly serious. "You remember the accident I told you about when I was a kid? When I fell in the pool?" J nodded. I'd fallen into a pool with one leg in, and one leg out when I was ten. Ouch. "Well, I ripped the hell out of myself. Down there. They managed to repair everything, but, well I'm just not as wide as most women are down there. I've got scar tissue. Even guys who qualified on the 'small' side were uncomfortable for me - it was like losing my virginity every time. He's a hell of a lot bigger than I've ever had. It'll never fit!"
J tried to stop laughing, but the smirk stayed. I growled at him in pretend anger, then leaned back in my seat with a sigh. "What am I going to do? It's ridiculous to break up with someone because their penis is too big."
"Why don't you just talk to him about it? I'm sure you can work something out."
"What am I going to say? I agree to keep going out with you if you agree we can never have sex? You don't get it. I've almost jumped him a bunch of times! There's no way I can hold out forever. I think I'm just going to have to break up with him."
"Promise me you'll at least tell him why? It's just not fair to up and drop him like that with no reason. You have to promise me."
"Oh, okay, I promise. Man, what an awkward conversation that's going to be."