“Charlie, I am getting together with the girls tonight. Were thinking about starting some kind of club.”
It all started out innocently enough. Life in a small town can get pretty bucolic. It only made sense that my wife would want to have a regular night out with her friends.
“Sure Darlene, do you mean a book club, something like that?”
“Uh, we might be able to think up something more exciting than a book club, Charlie.” I should have known my wife and her crowd had more imagination than that. What I never could have guessed was how depraved Darlene and her friends could get.
>>> O <<<
That was last spring now its January here I am dressed in this cowgirl outfit preparing the house for her group. The deal is that when the meeting is at our house I am their exclusive ...waiter. The group is closed at eleven woman now and the meetings revolve from house to house. The girls like it this way. It means one party a month and the twelfth month is reserved for a wildcard party. Each of the women is responsible to supply all the accompaniments for her night and that includes a waiter.
Waiter. The job description would be a little longer if written out. But it isn’t written and there aren’t any rules and, as I quickly learned, no limits. The married women had to coerce their husbands into the job one way or another. The single ladies had to find a substitute..
The meetings evolved from their simple beginning that night back in the fall. They now happen on the first Tuesday of the month. Each has a distinct flavor as a result of the eleven women’s particular taste and predilections. The themes of these get togethers range from costumes to Tupperware, from sex toys to lingerie, and from western or jungle to futuristic science fiction. The sexual orientation of the group also covers a broad spectrum from raucous sex to loving domination to pain and humiliation. So a night’s gathering might be thematically arranged around a Roman setting, complete with elaborate white toga style gowns for the ladies and a loin cloth of fake olive leaves for the wait person. The waiter is expected to handle all the usual party details. He is also responsible for every woman’s comfort and must cater to all and any of her whims and requests. I will put the emphasis on the words every, all and any and leave the rest to your imagination at this point.
<<< O >>>
“Sweetheart The girls are getting here at eight. You might want to catch a movie or a game of cards.
“Of course Darlene. I might go out to the gym for a while. What time do you think it will break up?”
I have always gone to the gym sporadically but since this all began, and I’ll get to that in a minute because it is interesting, I have made exercise a daily activity. I’ve been working on my upper body and abs knowing that any visible change will bring attention and excitement to me. I ran a lot in college so my legs were pretty developed from the beginning and that brought on much fondling and compliments.
Well, back to that first night, the get together that my wife Darlene organized to get this rolling. There was no thought of waiters or services or themes. In the beginning they wanted to meet every week and all that developed over the first three or four parties. On that first night everything just happened. I know because my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to creep back into the basement and monitor the meeting with a pair of old baby monitors I found down there.
After hiding the sending monitor under the couch, I left the house an hour or so before Darlene’s girlfriends were to arrive. I parked my car down the road and crept back through the fields and lawns behind my neighbors houses. We have a bulkhead door to the basement that I had left unlocked and blocked open. By the time I got back most of the women had arrived but they were still waiting for Nicki and Monica. There were only five in the group then. Lois and Helen had already arrived and Darlene was opening the first bottle of wine. The monitor was working perfectly. I could hear everything as if I was in the room.
I remember thinking, This is going to be good. That night the girls covered everything from complaining about their partner’s snoring to bragging about penis size. They were comparing size like a bunch of men do carburetors or boat length.
“My stud muffin has the biggest salami I’ve ever seen” I think it was Lois talking about her husband Don. I knew this was true because I had seen Don in the locker room at the gym. We referred to him as Oh Donny Boy and Long Dong Don”
“I have nothing to complain about in that department,” Monica said .”Johnny’s schlong has got to be nine or ten inches if it’s an inch!”
Nikki said, “You know it is pretty fricken hard to take a wife’s word on how much horse power her hubby is packing under the hood. I could tell you Sal has a horse cock and there’s no way you will ever really know if I’m lying”
Shit where was Darlene when I needed her? Come on, Darr, say something about your man’s man meat. Tell them its a D9 bulldozer—anything damn it-- say something.
My wife did pipe up finally, “Charlie is hung well enough but what’s the point? Nikki is right. How can you take a woman’s word on the size of her husband’s cock?
The alcohol kept the conversation loose and fast and ratcheting up to newer and giddier planes. I almost missed the moment where it all began. I think it was Nikki who started the ball rolling.
“I’ve seen you naked at the gym, Darlene and it would take a kielbasa to satisfy that pussy of yours.”
“What are you talking about, Nikki, My pussy is perfect...” Darlene stopped either at a loss for where to go or because she saw the level that the conversation had reached. At that the girls broke into rowdy laughs and giggles.
And in the midst of the snickers and guffaws I heard Rebecca say quietly, “We could measure them”
Everything stopped as if she had loudly clapped her hands.
“What did you say?” asked Monica.
Darlene came right in then, “She said we could measure them and I think its a damn good idea.”
I imagine all eyes were on Rebecca now. There was a pause—a long pause and then she spoke, “ We could all swear to promise that we wouldn’t cheat and we could each measure our husbands’ dick. You know all in the same way so we could be sure no one did it differently or made a mistake.”
Great!” Lois said, “Now we are going to measure our husbands’dicks. And then what, Becca, are we going to take pictures of them? “
“yummm, I’d like that.” Someone said.
By now I had a boner at the turn this conversation had taken. I had to reach down into my waistband and rearrange things for comfort.
The ladies then proceeded to take the idea further. They talked about the specifics of cock measuring, how they would go about getting us to go along with it and about pictures and video. I was getting increasingly aroused but when the talk turned to comparing photos or videos I couldn’t take it anymore. I slipped off my loafers and dropped my trousers to my ankles. My dick was hard as could be at the intimacy of all this. It was like I was there in the room with the girls.
“You could get them naked and maybe have them lay on the bed. Get them as hard as you can, I leave that part up to your imaginations, Ladies and when that little happy fellow is all proud and at attention, Walla! you measure him.”
“And take a picture of that soldier before he goes at ease! “ Shouted Monica.
“Yeah! And then we compare at the next get together,” said Nikki. “It sounds like a ball to me.”
“ Well shut ma maouth! Ah just cain’t wait to see all those rigid cocks,” drawled Rebecca.
“You better shut your mouth girl. Because if ah know you, you’d be the first one to gobble em all down and not leave any for the rest of us girls. Wouldn’t you Dolly?” Lois said emitting the southern accent Rebecca had affected.
By now my cock was hotter than a hot water pipe. I had my dick in both hands and I was pumping it like I was climbing a pole.
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