EXCHANGE Joan and I had been married for about ten years, and much of our relationship had been great. We liked the same music, sports, and movies. Joan hadn't been interested in college so she worked while I got my degree. This was one area where we didn't overlap. She wasn't interested in world affairs, reading or anything intellectual, and she seldom got my jokes. However, we both loved sex. We made love often, and it was usually enjoyable. Nevertheless, I had always had this nagging feeling that she was not completely satisfied by our lovemaking. Still, I had to admit that she often seemed to reach orgasm, particularly when I took her clit in my lips and licked back and forth across it as fast as my tongue could go. I could see her tummy muscles tighten in spasms as she groaned faster and faster until she cried out and then relaxed, becoming all soft and warm. Her climaxes were similar when I followed her instructions and pushed my cock in as far and as fast and as hard as I could, but those orgasms didn't seem nearly as intense. As a result of this concern and frequent oblique comments Joan made, I began to wonder whether I might be falling somewhat "short" in fulfilling her sexual need. She may have just been joking, but her repeated references to the value of size began to get to me. As time passed, I developed an idea as to how to test my theory that Joan would be more satisfied by a bigger cock. At first I thought about getting one of those giant dildos I'd seen in the porno store, but decided that would have been so obvious as to negate the value of the test results. The only true test would be for Joan to think that I was fucking her, but with a bigger cock. However, at least so far, there were no hospitals providing dick enlargement operations, so that meant that if I was ever going to answer my worries, I would have to find someone else (with a really big dick) to fuck Joan while she thought it was me. Where does one begin to recruit someone for this sort of a plan? I couldn't go to a night club and "pick up" someone. It had to be someone I could trust, someone safe, and someone "hung". There were plenty of guys at work who would love to get their dick in Joan, but there's the old saying about "don't dip your pen in company ink," which made co-workers out of the question. So what to do? It was about this time that an old friend from my high school days called to say he was back in town and would like to get together and renew our friendship. I didn't put the two situations together at first, but when Mel and I began reminiscing about out days together on the Tennis team, I remembered why I had envied him. As I recalled, Mel's prick was bigger soft than mine had been hard, although we never made a direct comparison. I thought that he was very probably (at least physically) what I needed to fulfill my fantasy "test." As Mel and I talked, I learned that he was recently separated from his wife, and that they were going through a divorce. His wife, Jordan, was four years behind us in high school, but I remembered her well. She was quite pretty, had a great sense of humor and got straight "A's." He had become a very successful automobile salesman, while she taught at a junior college. Mel said Jordan had wanted to split because she said they had "'grown apart', whatever the hell that meant." He voiced his displeasure at reentering the dating scene, saying that all the really great women had already found someone and gotten married or were at least living with someone. He also confided that he had once had a desire to pursue Joan, but that I had "beaten him out." This was almost too unlikely to believe, but what the hell, I decided to give it a try and see how far I could make this go. Could I really let another man fuck my wife? I had to find out if I really was sexually inadequate because of my size. Over the next several weeks, we had Mel over for dinner and we went out to the movies together a few times. Joan fixed him up with some of her girlfriends from work, but nothing clicked. All the while, I was making casual hints about Joan and me to Mel, trying to see if he showed any interest, he seemed genuinely concerned about us, and I felt more comfortable all the time about revealing my fantasy to him. One night, after dinner, as we were having a drink, and Joan was on the phone with a friend, I decided to open the door on my soul a little wider. I asked Mel to confirm that he still found Joan attractive, which he did. I then began to explain my concerns about our physical relationship. He understood, and joked that "all you pencil-peters have that fear. A lot of it depends on the woman. Jordan never really enjoyed sex, and she sure got enough cock from me." "Thanks a lot" I answered. "You're a big help." "Well, what the fuck can I do about it?" he asked. "Look Mel, you and I have gotten pretty close, and I think I can tell you something in confidence without fear of you having a bad reaction." I proceeded to outline my fantasy carefully, to see if Joan would have a stronger orgasm if she were making love to me and I had a bigger dick. "So how are you going to do that?" Mel asked. "Well" I said, "you asked what you could do." Then I went full ahead and detailed what I thought could work to fool Joan into thinking that she was screwing me when in fact she'd be screwing Mel. Mel was not too eager at first, but after some long-winded rationalizing, I began to turn him toward agreeing to give it a try. I asked him just how big he was, to which he replied "big enough." Finally I got him to admit to ten inches by two inches wide. "You've got to be kidding" I said, so he asked if I wanted proof. "I'm from Missouri. Show me." I got a ruler, he got it hard, and I checked. He'd lied; it was actually just under two and half inches wide." "Whoa" I said. "Oversize. I'm not sure Joan can handle that." Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. But I'd committed to this course, and I was determined to get the answer to my question. "Don't worry. She can handle it with no problem." When I looked at him, he said, "All women can. If they can pass a baby through there, they aren't going to be bothered by a big cock." That sounded reasonable, so I began to feel more confident. Obviously, it would be necessary for Mel to be present without Joan knowing it, so the first order of business was to select a location where I could be fucking Joan while Mel was close by. We decided on the rec. room, because of the storage room nearby where Mel could hide until I got things going. There were these big floor pillows that Joan and I had fucked on before, so that wouldn't arouse her suspicion. Next, we had to figure out how to get Mel into the storage room without Joan knowing that he was even in the house. We figured that we could "sneak" Mel into the house while Joan was at the store. Then we had to come up with a way for Mel to relieve himself in case he had to take a piss while he waited in the store room. An empty coffee can with its plastic lid would work OK. Since there would be no easy way to signal Mel when to come out of the store room, we agreed that he would just have to peek around the doorway to the rec. room and use his own best judgment as to when to come in. The lights would have to be off so that Joan would not be able to see Mel and me trade off. Finally, the big night came, and as Joan left in her car to go to the store, I called Mel. He parked around the corner so that Joan wouldn't see his car when she returned. "Are you sure about this?" he asked as he came in. "Yes, I've got to find out, or I'll wonder for the rest of my life." "OK," he replied, "as long as you're sure." We checked out the storage room, and the path through the rec. room, so that he wouldn't trip on or walk into something as he approached in the dark. Fortunately, there was a moon out that night, which would help light the rec. room a little, through the skylight. We went over the plan while we waited. I would give Joan enough to drink to get her a little tipsy and then start making love to her on the pillows. I would get between her legs and caress her thighs and hips with both hands, one on each side. I would move down and start licking her clitoris, then back off. He would move in and take my place. He said, "Well, I don't do that stuff," so we agreed that he would move in directly to the missionary position. When Joan returned, I helped her put away the groceries, and asked if she'd care for a drink. "Sure" she said, so I fixed her a Gin and Tonic, her usual, but I put in a bigger glass so I could make it a double. I fixed a Scotch and water for myself, very mild so I could stay alert and coordinated. We went to the rec. room, talked about work and about going on a vacation to Lake Tahoe next summer, and we danced to some '50s music on the radio. When I refilled our drinks, I again made Joan's stronger than usual, but kept mine weak. Joan was enjoying the mood, and her body was warmer and her kisses more demanding all the time. After still another drink, we danced to an old Elvis ballad ("Love Me Tender"), and she began rubbing the front of my jeans with her hand. I kissed her deeply, and started undoing the buttons of her blouse. "I love you, Joan" I said as kissed her neck, then her breasts. Her tits were so very soft and full, just perfect. I had preferred smaller, firmer ones when I was in high school, but had gotten used to Joan's. Her nipples pointed upward slightly, and were hard and hot as I sucked on them. Gradually, we undressed one another and held each other close, kissing. As we sank slowly to the floor, I turned out the last light, and slid one of those big pillows under Joan. I began caressing her arms, her breasts, her tummy, her thighs, her everything. Joan was only moderately active, probably from the booze, which was exactly what I'd hoped for. As I kissed my way down the front of her, she moaned softly. As my tongue parted the lips of her pussy, she only moved a little. It was then that I pressed against the insides of her knees until she had spread her legs wide apart. I hoped there would be enough room for the switch from me to Mel. I continued to kiss her pussy and caress her legs until I felt Mel move in behind me. I almost panicked at this point, for fear that Joan would realize that I was up to something and that she'd get pissed off. But she was still enjoying my attention and didn't sense anything other than my tongue, and my hands. When Mel put his hand on my left forearm, I almost jumped. I wasn't expecting it, but managed to maintain my concentration. I raised my left hand off Joan's leg, and Mel took over the caressing on that side. I raised up as far as I could on my knees, and Mel began to move in front of me. In the dim moonlight, shining through the skylight, I could see his big cock sliding down her thigh. "What the fuck am I doing?" I thought. But before I could think about it I had to move out of the way. That required pressing very tightly against Mel's back. As my dick passed over the crack of his ass, I had a thought. "No, this is not the time for that kind of new experience." I backed away and positioned myself so that I could watch the penetration. Mel was so big. I felt very strange as I watched the tip of his dick enter that beautiful tube which, until now, had been my private playground. In it went, past the tip, past the circumcision scar, down, deeper, deeper, all the while Joan's moans getting louder, deeper, different than I'd ever heard before. "Oooooooh, that's so good," she said in a low, very soft voice. "Don't ever stop." Mel picked up the pace, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. Joan's moans were almost gasps. "Ooooh, Oooooh, Yessssss, Yesssssss, YEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS." It was finally over. It was then that I heard those words that I'll never, ever, forget. "Oh, Mel, you're as good as ever. You always were the very best." It didn't take long for the divorce after Joan filed for it. She and Mel got married as soon as they could. I moved into an apartment, and, suffered the displeasure at reentering the dating scene that Mel had complained about. He was also right that all the really great women had already found someone and gotten married or were at least living with someone. ===[this was where the original story ended.] One night, I sat alone and got depressed by looking at pictures of Joan in my old high school yearbook. As I flipped through it, I saw the group picture of the freshmen, and there was Jordan, even prettier than I remembered. Suddenly, I wondered if she was available. I picked up the telephone and dialed Long Distance Information. She and Mel had settled in a town only twenty miles from here, but it was in a different area code. I called her, and when she answered, I felt silly and wasn't quite sure of what to say. "Hi, you probably don't remember me. My name's Jim, and I was on the Tennis Team with your ex-husband in high school." "Sure I remember you, Jim. You were a friend of Mel's, the only one of that crew who had a sense of humor, and didn't try to act like a macho stud. Since you said 'ex-husband' you must know he's not here. He moved back to our old town, but I don't have his telephone number, which pleases me greatly. You might call his parents. They can probably get you in touch with him." "I didn't call for him, Jordan. In fact, it was probably a bad idea to call. I'm sorry I bothered you." "Wait a minute, aren't you married?" Jordan asked. "I was, but I'm also divorced and Mel and my ex-wife, Joan, are now married. I just thought I'd call to see if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee, but it was dumb. You hardly knew me in high school, and it's been more than ten years since then." "Oh, right. Mel always told me how much she loved sex with him, whenever I'd try to get him to do anything different. Let me ask you a few questions before I decide what to do. They're quite personal, so you don't have to answer. Is that OK?" I said it was. "Do you know how Mel is built, or, to use the vernacular, 'hung' and, if so, how do you compare with him?" I could tell that my inadequacy had doomed me again. "Yes, I know. That's what caused my divorce, and I'm not much more than half as large as he is. I hate to give you that answer, because it means I'll never get a chance to know you. However, I have to be truthful, because you'd probably find out if I lied." She ignored my comment and asked, "How experimental or kinky are you, sexually; specifically, what do you think of oral sex?" "I believe anything two people do to give each other pleasure is acceptable. I love oral sex, possibly because I seem to be more competent with my tongue than genitally." I couldn't believe I was opening up like this, but it was probably a combination of my depression and the fact that I knew I'd never see this woman." "Jim, you just passed the first test. While Joan is obviously a size freak, it contributes only about five percent to the experience for me. As far as Mel goes, I could say: I've never seen so much equipment used so badly. Rather than just coffee, how about picking me up for dinner so we can compare notes. I'm available any night this week." I couldn't believe it. "How about Friday night? I can get there any time after six o'clock. As I recall, you have an El Torito restaurant there. Do you like Mexican food?" "I love it, and 6:30 would be fine." She gave me her address. I rang her door bell and wondered how much she had changed. As I remembered she was a little smaller than Joan, and rather lean. The door opened and I was dazzled. Jordan had been pretty as a little girl. She was beautiful as a woman. I stood there, speechless, with a foolish grin on my face. "Hello, Jim. Would you like to come in?" she asked, smiling. "Hello, Jordan. I remembered you as quite pretty, but Mel was an idiot to let you get away. You are gorgeous. I know that there's a lot more to being a person than just physical attractiveness, but forgive me for being tongue-tied. I just wasn't expecting such beauty." "Thank you, Jim, but you're right. I've learned physical attributes aren't everything. However, I thought you looked nice in high school, and you've matured well. I made reservations for 7:00. We should probably leave if we want to get there in time." The more we talked, the more fun it was. Since Joan didn't get my jokes, I had let my sense of humor atrophy for the last ten years, but Jordan was rejuvenating it. "You are delightful, Jordan. I had forgotten how much fun just talking with another person who has a quick and playful mind could be." "Well, these last three hours of conversation with you, Jim, have had about as much substance and humor as the last five years of talking with Mel had. I think my neighbor's goldfish have more wit than he does. Let's go back to my place for coffee." I paid the bill, and we drove back to her apartment. As attracted to Jordan as I was, I just couldn't make any move, because I knew she had been with Mel. Even though she indicated he wasn't satisfactory, I knew he had so much more than I did, that I was certain I'd be a complete failure. We talked for over an hour, and she finally said, "Jim, you're a nice guy, you have a quick wit, and you're much brighter than I realized when I was a kid." I felt the "But" coming. "However, sexual pleasure is very important to me, and I'm not going to settle for anything a half or a quarter as good as it should be. These aren't the best circumstances because it puts you in the position of having to perform. If you're willing, I'd like you to spend the night so we can see if we have any chance of sexual compatibility." In spite of my tension and feelings of inadequacy, I couldn't help being a wise ass. "At your cervix, madam." Jordan laughed and said, "I don't expect this to be love at first glans." This was a woman who was a challenge. I felt more alive than I had for quite some time. After about a half-hour of kissing and petting on the couch, we got up, got undressed and climbed into bed. Joan hadn't cared for slow foreplay with whispered romantic words, so I had ten years of pent up feelings to release. I described in minute detail every lovely thing about Jordan to her. Very slowly, I moved down her neck and shoulders to her breasts. They were appreciably smaller than Joan's, but much firmer and a great deal more sensitive. Jordan seemed to be having a prolonged orgasm as I kissed and licked and sucked her nipples. Gradually, I moved down across her flat stomach, and to her vulva. Her soft blond hair was trimmed quite short, giving the appearance of no hair at all. I slid my tongue between her labia and gently stroked from her clitoris to her vaginal opening and back again. Rather than concentrate on her clitoris, I went slowly so it would take longer for Jordan to build to an orgasm. She had a lovely body, and I enjoyed caressing and pleasuring her. Gradually, she became more and more aroused as I continued to slide my tongue over her clitoris. She began to shudder and move uncontrollably. When she went into her orgasm, it was like a force of nature. I couldn't believe how hard and long she went on. When she was finally able to talk, Jordan pulled me up and said, "Wow, that's about the fifth time I've ever had anyone do oral on me, and the only time it's been done properly." This was the first time in many years that I felt good about my performance. She pulled me up beside her, and we continued to make love. In a while, she pulled me on top of her and we coupled. If I had thought about it, I'd have lost my erection, realizing she had years of experience with Mel. "I can never have an orgasm genitally unless I help out with my hand. Would that bother you?" I lifted up, took her hand and slipped it between us and onto her clitoris. It didn't take long for both of us to climax. We lay there, joined, petting each other and talking softly. Jordan said, "If Mel had your skill, he still wouldn't be as good as you, Jim. You're just the right size for me because it lets you be more versatile." I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but I felt so good, I didn't worry about it. "I hate it when I have to wear clothes I've worn before and haven't had a chance to wash, don't you?" Jordan asked. I didn't have the vaguest idea what she meant, so I asked. She laughed and said, "Well, I doubt that you brought a change of clothes, so that means you'll have to stay naked all weekend so your clothes don't get too dirty by the time you go home Sunday night. I don't plan to let you out of bed for the rest of the weekend. I've done very little dating since I kicked Mel out, and none of it has been successful until now. You don't think I'm going to let you get away, do you?" This woman was making me feel more human and adequate than any time since I could remember. We drifted off to sleep, then spent most of Saturday and Sunday in bed. I found out what she meant about my versatility. After she got through, and I was lying there in a wonderful daze, she said, "I love doing oral, but Mel was way too big, not sensitive enough and didn't really enjoy anything but straight genital. You may not know it, but you come more delightfully than any other man I've been with." I wasn't sure of what she meant, as usual, but she had the gift of making me feel wonderful, both sexually and emotionally. She demonstrated the second part of her idea of versatility on Sunday. "Jim, what do you think of anal sex?" "I enjoy it, but, at best, it usually doesn't do much for the woman, so I haven't done it very much" I said. This wasn't quite true, because the two times I had done it, I had the best orgasms of my life. I just didn't want to let her know how much I loved it, because I didn't want to make her feel she had to do it just to please me. "You're right if it's just that, but there's a way for both of us to get a great deal of pleasure out of it. See, there's another facet of your versatility. Mel would have split me in half, if he tried anal. I wouldn't have let him, but I didn't have to worry, because he thought so much of his cock, that he wouldn't consider putting it in the back entrance. Anyway, let me get the two 'V's,' and we can try it." Later, I learned they were Vaseline and a vibrator. After she used the lubricant on both of us, I very slowly pressed the head of my penis into her anal sphincter. It gradually opened and I pushed all the way in. She was tighter, hotter and slipperier than one could imagine. Then Jordan lifted up a bit, put the vibrator in place and turned it on. She was pressing it lightly against her clitoris, but the energy was transferring through her body so, now, my entire shaft was being tickled as her anal tube vibrated around me. While I loved anal sex, normally, this was an order of magnitude better than that. Although I was sure I had only one orgasm, it lasted about three times longer than normal, I ejaculated about three times as much semen as usual, and my pleasure was beyond description. Jordan said she couldn't have an orgasm from anal entry, but when she combined the stimulation from that with a vibrator on her clitoris, she had her most powerful climaxes. As I got ready to drive home Sunday night, Jordan said, "Your ex-wife must be weird, Jim. You are so far superior to Mel as a bed partner, and as a human being, that she must have no taste at all. Understand that I'm not complaining. If she hadn't switched from you to Mel, I'd never have found out how wonderful you are. "I've conducted an informal survey among my girlfriends about the importance of penis size and found that it's very important to about thirty percent of the women. Another thirty percent like a large cock but don't require it. However, there was an interesting sidelight. Most well hung guys are like very beautiful women - they depend on that attribute and never develop a personality, empathy, or interest in others. This means they are boring and can't sustain a long-term relationship. The reasons human stallions have a lot of partners isn't because they are sexually irresistible. Instead, it's because women tire of them very quickly and end the affair." I wasn't sure I should believe her, so I didn't comment on that. Instead, I said, "Jordan, I thought I had a good life in general, and sex life in particular when I was with Joan. Of course, I had fantasies about things that could never happen, but that would give me even more pleasure. Well, not only have you shown me how much I was missing, you've even surpassed my fantasies, both sexually and as a person." After a few months of getting to know each other, we decided to move in together. I wanted to get married, but Jordan insisted I get some therapy for my feelings of anatomical inferiority, first. The therapist found that, for the ten years of my prior marriage, Joan had consistently made comments and gave me nonverbal cues indicating that she wasn't satisfied with my size. When I understood the origin of my feelings, I was able to work them through. Now, I realize that I'm fairly average in size, and that it's only a minor part of sexual pleasure. As soon as I finished with the therapist, Jordan and I were married. It's strange that, even after ten years, our frequency of anal, oral and genital sex hasn't gone down. We love to try every new variation we hear of, and invent some of our own. I thought Joan and I were compatible, but I had just set my sights too low. Jordan is ten times the woman that Joan was. We haven't ever seen Joan or Mel since the divorces, but we got a laugh when a mutual friend told us something they had said when they heard we had gotten married. They commented that, as two sexual losers, we were probably a good match for each other.