Ben, My Only Friend . . .

I want to tell about how we started down this road in earnest. That means I have to tell you about Ben. And that means I have to tell you about Game Night.

Two jobs ago and BK (before kids), when I used to work for an ad agency, writing catalog copy, there were quite a few of us late twenty-something nerdy types who worked there. We all used to like to get together every few weekends, but being intellectuals, we couldn't just drink - we had to have a reason. So someone decided we should play games, like Trivial Pursuit and Scattergories. And drink.

Anyway, we'd usually meet up a someone's apartment (usually at me and Mike's - we were already living together at the time) and play till it was late and the game was usually forgotten. (I know what you're thinking - a six pack and a game of checkers will get you into Angie's pants. You're probably right.)

Ben was a guy that worked at the agency, too, as some kind of IT guy, and he had an on/off thing with Sally, who was one of the creatives. Sally and Ben were two of the regulars at Game Night, and I knew from her that they would sometimes go back to her place afterwards for an occasional hook-up. But she was kind of paranoid about her career, so none of our other co-workers had any idea.

Of course, I also knew from Sally that Ben had a fat fucking cock on him. That totally intrigued me (told you I was a crotch-watcher), and Mike and I loved to bring up that subject when we'd dirty talk during sex. What really turned me on about Ben was that he was a really sweet, slow-drawling Southern guy, kind of a gentlemen-type, yet he had this way of bringing the conversation around to sex. Which totally steamed Sally, but there was nothing she could do about it, since they weren't out to anyone at work.

So basically, we're all hanging out at Game Night one evening, the crowd dwindles down, and Sally has left early, and finally, it's just me, Mike and Ben. Without Sally there, and with the alcohol, Ben is rolling. And since Mike and I have been talking about this cock on Ben for weeks, we kind of just let him ramble. We didn't even need to steer the conversation back toward sex.

The neat thing about was that he wasn't shy at all in front of Mike. It wasn't like he was trying to make me - he just was very open about talking about his various "adventures". Mike is by nature a very curious guy, and between the two of them that night, it was like eavesdropping on a couple of buddies shooting the shit about their girlfriends. Mike kept coaxing more tales of Ben's exploits out of him, and Ben was only too happy to oblige.

I think Mike knew exactly what he was doing when, as Ben was bragging about his dick size, Mike jokingly called his bluff. After the prefatory "I'm not gay, but . . . " line, Mike said he'd seen enough penises in locker rooms to doubt there was much difference, and with an inquisitive look at me, he basically said to Ben, "prove it."

Needless to say, I did not object, and more amazing, Ben just smiled this cocky smile and put his hand on his zipper. Looking at me, he asked if we were sure. My jaw was down on the floor, so I just nodded. Then he made us both promise that we wouldn't breathe a word of it to Sally. Not a problem, either - it wasn't like they were exclusive.

It's not like we all ripped off our clothes at that point (not that night, at least!), but it was pretty bizarre. Shockingly, I don't think I'd ever watched a man beat off at that point, and certainly not with my boyfriend present, but Ben claimed that he was a "grower, not a show-er", and that he needed to pump it up a bit to appreciate its full effect.

And appreciate it we did. Mike and I just stared in awe at that hunk of meat while he beat off in front of us. It was pretty impressive - the thing with dick size is that, watching at least, you don't really notice differences in length, but you can really tell a nice thick cock from a regular one.

It was really cool - he only lasted a few minutes, but Ben was completely conversational during the whole experience, talking about different girls he'd been with, experiences, and yes, even some very personal experiences he'd had with Sally. He even asked if I wanted to touch it, but I declined (I can be a little shy, sometimes). Mike was hilarious - he saw that Ben was getting close, so Mike went and got him some paper towels. He was a bit of a show-off - he held the wad of towels a couple feet in front of him, and then he shot off into them. Boy, was he a good cummer!

And then we sat around for a bit and had a nightcap before he left, just bullshitting about things. Mike admitted that Ben wasn't bragging about what he was packing, and Ben just gave me this sly wink when he heard that. And then he left a few minutes later.

And then I didn't even wait for the door to slam before I yank Mike's cock out and jammed it in my soaking wet pussy. But that's a story for another day . . .

A Little Taste of Scotch . . .

Mike is an absolute voyeur when it comes to my past flings. He gets off on this little jealous reaction inside him when he hears about some other guy having his way with me. Especially when that guy had his way when we were already dating . . .

Well, to be clear, we weren't dating exclusively. I was in grad school, he was working, and I did a semester abroad thing over in England. And like most people in those kind of situations, we agreed that it was okay to "see" other people while we were apart.

Silly men. Mike admits he agreed to it, thinking he'd be getting all this pussy while I was gone. Guys - a word of advice. We girls can get it any time we want. And you can't. Of course, Mike didn't even have a date in that period.

And me - let's just say I wasn't hurting for company. I've never been one to miss an opportunity. And the opportunity that really turns on Mike happened when I took a week-long bus tour in Scotland.

It was crazy - fifteen college-age guys and girls, drinking and toking their way around the island. That's what really gets Mike - he's pretty straight, and the thought of a guy getting his girlfriend high so he can get into her pants drives him nuts.

But what really gets him is that I was the aggressor. After a couple days on this party bus, this one guy from Germany and I were getting cozy. We'd make out on the tour bus between stops, I'd let him feel up my tits while walking through this or that castle, and at night, when we went to the pubs, I'd let him rub my crotch a bit under the table. But the thing is, we didn't fuck, because the thing about this tour was that we'd sleep in these hostels with big common rooms, without any privacy.

Well, by this time, Angie is horny as hell from all this fingering, and after a few drinks, I get a little forward. I take my German boy by the hand, and I lead him out the back door of the pub of the day and into a semi-dark alley.

And without a word, I get down on my knees, unzip his shorts, and pull out that fat German prick of his and swallow it whole. The guy is shocked, and probably thinking that American girls are every bit as slutty as he's heard. And his dick is thinking, "I'm not going to last long at all." Believe me, it doesn't. This poor guy shoots his wad in my mouth, I swallow, smile, and zip him up, and we go back inside for another drink.

Sure, he tells every other guy on the tour about my oral skills, which is kind of flattering, but I also have to fend off their passes for the rest of the trip. Which is kind of a bummer, because I would have actually fucked the guy at some point if he didn't have such a big mouth. And of course, I don't tell Mike anything when I get home. Not yet, anyway.

Until he asks, of course. Poor guy - his curiosity is killing him. So I tell him, and yeah, he's a little mad, but he's really turned on. And within five minutes of me telling him about the German, he has me on the bed, his penis inside me, begging me to tell him what it was like for me to suck that stranger off in that alley. So I tell him, and he's is coming so hard you wouldn't believe it.

And that's exactly how it's gone every time I've told him that story over the past ten years - instant hard-on.

I really love my Mike.