Thursday night is guest star night at the North Dallas Swap Club, Any pornstar passing through DFW was invited, along with any wannabe star, stud, bull, or bi- female who could get past the screeners. I was in my usual spot: a former den in a former home turned swap club. The first round was in progress, I made myself scarce. Exhibition fucking has even less appeal for me than wife swapping.

I'm here simply because Kelly comes here. I braid her long blonde hair so the guys who take her from behind can pull on it safely, bathe her, and drive her to the door. I hole up in the den with my laptop and earphones. I catch up with work, and email, while listening to my blues. The sight of Kelly with another man, just the sounds of their pleasure, are like an ice pick taken to my soul. The husbands who take pictures of their swinging wives, or videotape them, are space aliens to me. I don't understand a man who could willingly share his wife, or even images of her. What I don't understand tends to make me angry. I'm not pleasant when I'm angry, so guys learn to leave me alone.

I'm here to protect her. There's not much trouble here, but the managers know I'm good at keeping the peace. They pretend to forget I'm her roommate, not husband.They let me slide by the rules. Theres no real need to be near her: She's never found another cock big enough to hurt her, though she'll never stop looking.

Sometimes one of the wives will come find me, usually one of the unwilling. Confused, scared, wondering why the man they love would bring them here. I hold them, talk to them, draw out what they need and want. If they want considerate, gentle, patient love making, I try to fill ther needs. If they want quick, rough, and dirty, I pop their butts and send them back down the hall.

Sometimes Kelly dates guys from the club, but she never brings them home. Occasionally one will appear to be more than just a hunk attached to a big dick, and she'll stay gone for a while. She's always come back, so far. That's where my friends with benefets deal kicks in. I'll hold her, and soothe her, cuddle with her, and make slow gentle love with her. I can give her what she needs, but no longer what she wants.

We met in Junior High. I was fourteen, and at the high point of my life. I was a big kid then, at five foot three and eight inches long. I'd stumbled into the size queen network, and was on the lonely housewive's grapevine. I was amazed! There were so many adult women eager for a big dick, even one with a hundred pound kid atached. Actually I think some were turned on by my height.

Kelly approached me in the cafeteria, told me she wanted to talk somewhere quiet. We found an empty classroom.

"I saw what you did with my mom."

"What do you think you saw?"

"I saw you take her around the world. I saw you come in her mouth. I watched you come between her breasts. I saw you take her pussy, and then her ass."

"What do you want? Are you going to make trouble?"

"She's my mom, but her husband's not my dad. I don't care about her actions. What I want ... I want you. And I want you to do the same things to me!"

I opened my eyes, and really looked at her for the first time. Now I made the connection between her and her mother. Right now she was just pretty, gangly and under developed, but I could see her mother in her. She would be beautiful in five years, gorgeous as her mother in ten. "OK girl friend," I grinned, "but we may have to wait a few weeks for the between the boob thing."

We did it all eventually. She was the only girl my age I'd ever dated. I was inexperienced with young girls, impatient, and immature. Too much of the pleasure I gave her was mixed with physical pain. She grew to crave that mixture, and I just wasn't old enough to know any better.

We dated, publicly, for a few years. She grew to five foot nine, grew ashamed to be seen with me. We stayed friends, friends with benefets, while we waited for my growth spurt to come. Like it did for the friends around me, who shot up, and left me behind. Mine never came. I graduated five foot three, and nine thick inches long.

We roomed together thrugh college. I protected her like the big brother she never had, and slept with her through her romantic heartbreaks. We moved back home again after graduation, and shared another apartment.

Her parents didn't like that much, and me even less. They were were forever dragging us to country club dances, pairing us with other dates, parading a string of tall, good looking, eligible suitors past our table. I watched her dance in their arms, perfectly matched, smiles lighting their faces. That hurt. That's when I started drinking. That's when her date took us to the club for the our first time.