The First Time

We had been talking about it for some time.  Or, at least, she had.  I knew my wife loved me.  For lots of reasons.  But I also wasn't stupid. I wasn't quite, uh, reaching her, in those places a woman aches to be touched.  The first time she mentioned it, almost in passing, just after I didn't quite, uh, measure up, so to speak, I wasn't sure what she meant.  She'd whispered, "I wish it was bigger."  I asked, "Huh?", and she said, "Never mind."  Then, it happened again.  She cried out as I came too soon, "No!  Not yet!"  But it was too late.  I apologized.  She answered, "I need a big cock baby."  Not, 'I need a bigger cock.'  'I need a big cock.'  Mine wasn't even "big," was what she was saying.  Stupidly, I replied, "Uh, okay."  She must have misunderstood me.  She must have thought I was consenting.  Then, when she brought the first guy home with her from work one night, I didn't know what to do or say.  Not even when she led him to our bedroom.  Why I followed to watch what happened, I don't know.  But that is when I saw it.  Saw her.  Saw them.  Her hand holding him.  It.  Touching it.  Almost, no, yes, definitely, reverently.  And then, when he fucked her, I understood what she'd been saying.