This a repost, but I figured it was easier than having you search for it:
I’ve mentioned some of the reasons I fantasize about my wife being a BCS (Big Cock Slut), but there was also a real-life event that had a lot to do with it. It was the first summer I had a serious girlfriend. We’d gotten to the point where if we had a decent amount of time alone together - not easy, as we both came from big families - we’d get naked. She was the first girl I’d ever been naked with, and vice-versa. We hadn’t done it yet, but, for reasons I still don’t fully understand, I had told her that I was smaller than most guys “down there ”. I don’t think she really believed me. After all, while not the tallest guy, I was by far the strongest guy in our HS, already massively muscled.
In any event, she had a summer job as a lifeguard. In fact, she such was a beach lover that she liked to drag me there when she was off duty and I had a rare day off. I wasn’t much for tanning (I couldn’t), but I’d take a book and lots of sunscreen, and go with her.
One day, we’re there and a good friend takes the chair at the lifeguard stand. She wants to say hello, but I’m at a really good part of the novel I’m reading, so I tell her to go ahead and I’ll catch up.
Well, I lost track of time, and suddenly half an hour has gone by, and gf hasn’t returned. I go to find her, and am shocked to find her still talking to our friend. Now, I’m not shocked about them talking, I’m shocked about the tableux in front of me. Her normally unreactive nipples, I’d literally never seen them on display in this modest swimsuit, even after a makeout session, were all but tearing through her top. And, as she looked up at him in the chair, it’s clear why. From the locker room, I already knew he was horse hung. But now my gf did, too, as she was staring straight up the leg of his jams, where he was very much on display, though I don’t think he knew it, as he was completely limp.
She almost jumped out of her skin when I wrapped my arms around her from behind. She said a very quick goodbye to our friend, before pulling me away. I think she hoped I wouldn’t notice where she’d been staring. When we got back to our blanket, I wasn’t angry, but I was very emotionally confused. Nothing was said until later that night, when I kind of laughed at her for dragging me away from the chair, and told her that I knew what she was looking at.
She first denied seeing anything, but then admitted it, and made the excuse that she had told the friend I was coming, and felt it rude to leave before I did so. I basically called bullshit on that, and teased her about how her nipples told the story of a very aroused girl, rather than an embarrassed one. She denied it, though I assured her I wasn’t angry. She did, however, admit that she now understood what I’d meant about my being smaller, and admitted that she hadn’t really believed me, and still couldn’t quite believe the difference in size.
A few weeks later, I read my first wife watching story in Penthouse Letters. It aroused me incredibly, and, of course, reminded me of that day on the beach. That evening, summoning all my courage, I discussed the story with her and asked again if my buddy’s big dick had aroused her. But, while she never refused to talk about it, she denied her arousal to the very end of our relationship. Nevertheless, I dreamt time and again of that day, but with various scenarios wherein I didn’t find her at the chair, but rather in the lifeguard shack, on her hands, or on her back, taking that huge cock.