May I please join in?

May I please join in?

Laura had asked me last week if it would be okay to bring a male co-worker to our house for a dinner visit. They'd been working on a project together and she wanted me to meet him. Being the agreeable sort and preoccupied with matters pertaining to my own job, I said "sure," for some reason not giving much thought to the fact that she was bringing over a man.

That morning she'd reminded me that Bill would be coming over that evening, but when I entered the house at 6:30 p.m. I had forgotten all about it. As I walked in the door there was Laura sitting comfortably on the love seat, talking to a large black man seated on our couch dressed in a casual golf shirt, shorts, and sandals, at a right-angle from her. My heart immediately started pumping faster and I suddenly realized I was very nervous.

"Honey, I'd like you to meet Bill, from work."

This was Bill? He's black? Had I been asleep?

As Bill stood up I realized he was several inches taller than my very average height, with a thick, muscular build. Not only did his manly physique make me feel somewhat small, but I also felt boyish in the presence of this man whom I suspected was quite a bit younger than me.

"Hi, pleased to meet you," I said, feeling as though I was stammering out the words, to say nothing of sweating a bit. "I'm Dell."

"Nice to meet you sir," responded Bill, extending a very large hand. As I gripped it in return I felt it engulf my own. He gave me a modest handshake, clearly holding back what could have been a crushing grip.

As we sat back down I kept stealing glances at his hands. I could see his fingers were not only considerably longer than mine, but also quite a bit thicker. His fingernails were also long and large. I estimated his pinky fingernail might even be larger than my fourth fingernail.

"Bill's been a terrific help on the project we've been working on," said Laura, "and I wanted to have him over for dinner as an expression of my thanks."

Laura and I are in our late 30's, but it was difficult to tell just how old Bill was. He had a mature look to him, like the college football players one often sees, and I had a feeling he too was only in his early 20's. I wondered what this youngish man would be doing working closely with Laura.

No sooner had I thought of the question when Laura said, "Bill works in the mailroom and has been a lifesaver getting our copies put together. I don't know what I'd do without him!"

Bill gave an embarrassed smile and just said "thanks, Laura. Just doing my job."

The mailroom guy over for dinner?

"How long have you been at the agency?," I asked Bill.

"Just about a year now," he replied. "I had to take some time off from school, and this has worked out good for me until I can go back."

"Over at the 'U'?"


I looked again at Bill and noticed a very thick pair of thighs under the loose-fitting shorts. This must be one powerful guy! An injured football player, maybe? A lineman, no doubt.

I continued my gaze toward his sandaled feet, which appeared several sizes larger than my own. His toes were, like his fingers, long and thick, and my first reaction was one of relief that I was wearing my work Oxfords. Laura was nearly my height, and though she was very feminine she'd occasionally tease me about her feet being nearly as big as my own somewhat small-sized pair.

"Honey, are you okay?" asked Laura, seemingly out of the blue. In a bit of a daze, I snapped to attention and nervously said "Yeah, I'm all right. Just a little tired from the long day."

Bill looked over and commented. "Man, you must work pretty hard to afford a house like this!"

"Yes," I replied. "But I don't think we could afford this without Laura's salary."

Laura smiled. Her's was no auxiliary income. She had an MBA and was working in an executive position at an advertising agency, pulling in well over six figures. Why was this guy from the mailroom here?

part two

After a pleasant enough dinner, Laura said "Dear, aren't you going to change into your shorts and sandals? It's usually the first thing you do when you come home, and it's so hot outside. I know you'd be more comfortable."

I felt inhibited about doing that, but she embarrassed me into it and so up the stairs I went. Upon coming back down, Laura and Bill were standing, viewing one of our framed prints hanging on the wall. Bill turned around toward me and said, "I'll bet you're a whole lot more comfortable now."

Ordinarily I would have been, but without the protective layers of office clothing I felt yet smaller and more boyish standing next to this big guy. I glanced down at my feet, just a few feet away from his, and sure enough, I felt like an 8-year old boy standing next to a grown man! Then, realizing my worst fears, Laura looked down at our feet and started laughing. Looking at Bill, she said "Look at how much bigger your feet are than Dell's!" Bill chuckled. I cringed. Everything about him was larger than me, but thankfully, at least for the moment, Laura didn't note the obvious.

Being placed in an inferior role wasn't an altogether unfamiliar feeling for me. Over the past few years Laura's breadwinner position in the household had forced me to make adjustments. She earned nearly twice as much as me and I sometimes wondered why she put up with me. For several years now there'd been signs of restlessness and impatience on her part. We'd been married for ten years and began at the same level, but while I progressed at my job, gradually gaining salary increases, she had rocketed up into the executive level. In the beginning we'd had a lot in common, and it could only have been this residue of our past which accounted for the staying power in the marriage, as our sex life had become more and more sparse.

And then, bright guy that I am, a thought flashed through my mind. There could only be one reason this guy was here with Laura. Nothing else added up.

part three

An hour later I was sitting in my office room. I'd excused myself by saying I needed to take care of some business, but in reality I just wanted to get away. I felt red-faced and sweaty, and embarrassed to feel a little tingle between my legs. The phone on the desk suddenly rang. Of all people, it was Laura.

"Dear, are you finished with your work yet? I'm showing Bill the pool, and thought you'd like to join us."

The darned cell phone! Calling me from the pool, of all places! And the first time I'd ever been spoken with her on the phone when we were both on the grounds.

I was a little annoyed. This was turning into a very odd visit.

"Laura, don't you think it's time for Bill to head home? It's past 9 o'clock and we've got work tomorrow!"

"Dear, you know I take care of work-related matters. Now don't you worry your sweet head off. Get over here now."

Laura didn't often use the commanding tone with me, and my immediate reaction, to myself, was one of "aye-aye, sir!"

"Okay, dear. I'll be there in two minutes," I dutifully answered.

Last year we had built the pool. It was an outdoor, standard kidney-shaped in-ground pool, with a translucent plexiglass enclosure which allowed the sunlight to come through, but only blurry images when trying to look through the glass.

I wasn't feeling good about this. I was more nervous now than at any time during the evening. As I walked into the pool structure, there were Bill and Laura, both in the water at the deep end of the pool. I walked on over toward them.

"Come on in," gleefully shouted Laura.

"Please, I don't even have my suit on," I replied.

"Who needs a suit," said Laura. "We're not wearing one!"

So this is what it was about! Furious, I gave her a look, and began to walk out toward the door, fully intending to go back to the house. As I got to within ten feet of the door, who but Bill was standing there, buck naked.

"Hey, man–don't you listen when your wife tells you something?"

He stood facing me and my eyes gravitated to his dick. It was flaccid, but amazingly thick, and probably an inch or two longer in that position than my own when I was erect!

He reached his hand out toward me. "Don't make me force you now. And don't even think of trying to run. Listen to your woman."

I was red-faced and humiliated, but also knew there was nothing I could do. I looked over to Laura and gave her a pleading look. She gave me a condescending frown and shook her head. Though the facts of our respective work lives made it plain it coudn't be the case, throughout our marriage we had maintained the pretense of an equal partnership. Now she had boldly and aggressively taken control.

Bill reached over and unbuckled my shorts. I was too afraid to even attempt to stop him. He nodded for me to finish the rest. I complied, relieved that that was as far as he went.

part four

As angry as I had been just a minute before, now I felt defeated. I was also amazed. Like a little boy, I took Bill's hand as he led me back toward the deep end. Laura looked up at me from the water.

"Dell-boy, what do you think? Would you like to touch it?," Laura asked tauntingly.

I'd always had occasional thoughts of being sexually stimulated by a man, but how did she know?

"You haven't had much interest in me for awhile, so maybe this will get you excited," said Laura sarcastically.

"Laura, that's not fair! I'm not gay! Let me out of here!"

As I said those words, the sight of Bill standing guard made my dick start to tingle. And within moments I realized I was hard.

"Always look to a man's dick to read his mind," said Laura. Bill smiled.

"Go ahead and touch him," ordered Laura.

I looked at Bill, maybe 5" taller than me and physically dwarfing me in every respect. He nodded toward me. As much as I said to myself I didn't want to, I reached to his cock. Unlike my own, there was weight to it, apart from the mere appearance.

"Now be a good boy, Dell, and give Bill a very nice hand massage."

I gently gripped Bill's cock in my hand and massaged it as I had so often done my own. He quickly got hard, but what a difference, as I could barely wrap my hand around his thickness. Whereas my one hand ran nearly the length of my dick, I was able to place two hands–one on top of the other–over his, and still had room to spare. Ten inches on this monster cock would have been an understatement.

"Wanna try to taste him, now, husband-boy?" called Laura to me.

I was overwhelmed by it all and instantly tried to wrap my mouth around his cock. It was so thick I thought I was going to choke. And worse yet, I was hard as a rock! Meanwhile, in the background, Laura was laughing out loud, almost cackling!

After I had licked him a few times, Laura called out. That's enough for you, husband-boy. It's time to go to your corner."

Bill pushed my head away and gave me a stern look. He then led me to a chair and motioned for me to sit. Laura climbed out of the pool and gazed lovingly at Bill, who smiled back. She walked toward him and as they met she grabbed his cock. He bent over and they passionately kissed. She then turned and looked toward me.

Laura spoke: "How long did you think I could remain faithful in this marriage when your little cock can't even get it up once a month? What do you think of my new partner?"

"Laura," I started to simper, "does this mean it's all over? I know our sex life hasn't been the greatest, but we've always gotten along so well and worked like a team."

"Listen here, husband-boy: I've just added a new player to the team. And if you're a good boy, I'll even let you join in from time to time. Think about it…while your little dick is still hard."

I began to cry.

"You fuckin' wimp," shouted Laura. "Well, what's your answer?"

I continued to cry. In one evening my life had been turned upside down. And as I whimpered, I nodded my head up and down.

Laura looked at me sternly. "From now on," she said, "I will tell you when you can partake. I will give you a signal and you will ask: 'may I please join in?' And don't dare think of interrupting." A quick look at Bill confirmed her authority.

"Yes, Laura," I responded.

Laura and Bill embraced each other, her soft female body, pale white skin, and blond hair contrasting with his muscular black body. Standing upright, his huge black dick now fully flush, he lifted her 145 lbs. as if a feather, and then I watched him enter her. He pumped several times and Laura let out a moan the likes of which I'd never heard from her before. A chill ran through me. Still upright, he held her and they embraced for what seemed an eternity, until finally he carried her over to a chaise and gently lowered her down. The look on her face was beatific. Never would anything be so set in stone as my place in the new order. And I was hard.

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