"You're fine, babe. Six inches is more than enough. You have a great cock."
A significant part of Sarah's sex life in her twenties consisted of her faking orgasms to protect the feelings of the men she slept with.
"Baby, you're the biggest one I've ever had," worked 100% of the time when a guy was struggling to keep an erection.
It was all a lie. Does size matter? What do you think? She was well sick of the question by the time she turned thirty. Working as an executive at a large media startup meant she didn't have the time to fuck underendowed men.
The problem was that it was impossible to talk length and girth with men on Tinder. Every guy was two inches bigger and thick on the Internet. And the truly well-hung replied with a dick pic almost without fail. That was an instant turn-off. Sarah lived for the moment when she peeled her lover's boxers to reveal a huge throbbing cock. Spoilers weren't welcome.
Sarah's disappointing dating life took a sharp turn when she met her fake husband — Tony. Tony was a high-flyer, and he didn't exist.
She got the idea for Tony from a guy she hooked up with in Denmark last year. He told her about a fetish called "hotwifing." Apparently, some men wanted their wives to sleep with other men. They looked for bulls — younger and fitter guys with bigger cocks to pound their wives while they were at work. Some even wanted to watch, which Sarah thought to be a little bizarre.
The Dane told her about how he found bulls for his ex-wife. Entire online forums were dedicated to matching hotwives with eligible bulls. One time, he flew out two black guys from the States to fuck his wife. That blew her mind.
Sarah conceived Tony as soon as she landed back home in New York City. Tony was older than her. He travelled a lot for business, but he didn't want his absence to affect his dear wife's happiness. So he let her fuck other men.
She signed up for a few hotwife forums as Tony and posted some ads, offering herself to the right bull. It was strange at first. A lot of time-wasters kept begging her for pics. But she learned to recognise the promising ones quickly.
To her surprise, the interactions were much more respectful than anything she'd experienced in online dating. No more, "wanna 'fck tonite, bby?'" No more guys going on psychotic rage trips when she ignored their requests to "show pussy, hun."
The guys asked Tony about what his wife liked—Champagne? Roses? Belgian chocolate? Does she prefer men in a suit or casually dressed? A stubble or clean shaved? Others enquired whether the wife enjoyed giving head. Why, she most certainly did.
In return, she questioned them about their physique. When she asked how big they were, they just replied, no weird games, no dick pics, just measurements. She also learned that she could ask them to verify. That meant sending a selfie while holding an ID. Most did that without protest which blew her mind. Being a man clearly had its advantages.
Sarah met her first bull in Felidia, an upscale Italian place in Midtown. According to Tony, that would be a place his wife would enjoy. They dined on black truffle ravioli and butternut squash soup. The food was spectacular, but conversation was lacking. That was fine because he was shredded and had a magnificent cock, nine inches and thick, not Internet nine inches, which were usually barely seven. She was hooked.
In the year that followed, Sarah had some of the most satisfying sex of her life. The men clamoured to please her according to Tony's instructions. They wore what he asked them to wear, took her out to her favourite restaurants, and brought her gifts she actually wanted. None of that power-play bullshit that insecure men tried on her before.
Every single one wore a condom, no questions. They never met Tony, of course, but his virtual presence during each encounter made all the difference. This fascinated her. Perhaps they were worried that he'd fuck them up if they tried to cross her? Did Tony come off as a tough guy?
When she felt a bit more adventurous, Tony told one of the bulls that she loved butt plugs. He asked the guy to buy one, lube up her ass and gently insert it in her butt while fucking her pussy from behind.
"She will go absolutely wild. Don't tell her I told you," Tony said.
He did as he was told — brought a brand-new golden jewel plug with red stone. He lubed up her as carefully while sliding his cock in and out of her pussy. The plug went in and he continued fucking her.
That night, Sarah came three times. Pulling the strings like that behind the scenes turned her on a lot more than she was willing to admit. However, her most daring adventure was yet still to come.
One evening, she stumbled upon the profile of her old Danish friend on the hotwifing forums. She couldn't help but read through his post history. It started with him asking for advice on how to convince her wife to "get into the lifestyle." In his last posts, he complained that she left him for a well-hung, twenty-three-year-old architecture major that knocked her up. Deep in his post history was a recommendation for Suli and Isaac to a fellow cuck who was looking for the first BBC threesome for his wife's birthday.
"They were incredible," he wrote, "I flew them out to Copenhagen to meet my wife. Worth every penny. Highly recommended."
Later in the thread, Isaac replied with the winking emoji. Sarah opened his profile and found a schedule with booking instructions. Suli and Isaac spent their weekends fucking the wives of well-heeled husbands that paid for everything. What a hobby.
Sarah never had a threesome before. The idea of being pampered by two men at the same time overwhelmed her at first. Besides, flying out two guys to NYC to rail her was insane. It'd be expensive, very expensive. Although she didn't have to worry about money, she wasn't a carefree millionaire just yet.
It'd be something that Tony would want to do for sure, she mused. Sarah was happily single, but her imaginary husband pretty much ended up taking over her life. She logged in to the forum every day to check whether Isaac and Suli had a new raving review.
Once a seed was planted in her mind, resistance was futile. Sarah knew it. She kept checking the availability on Isaac's profile, hovering the cursor over the little envelope in the corner. One night, she drank a bottle of wine and clicked it to message him.
Their next availability was a few weeks out, but someone cancelled on them last minute. They were free this weekend. Sarah's fingers typed yes before her mind could stop her. For a moment, it felt as if Tony was alive inside of her. She booked the flights and the hotel for the weekend and passed out.
The rest of the week flew past. After spending twelve hours in the office, every single day, for two weeks, to resolve an issue with a high-profile client, she was ready to blow off some steam.
"On her way now," Tony texted Isaac. "Have fun."
Sarah was in a taxi to the Upper West Side. The traffic was heavy. The bright yellow light from the street lamps reflected on the wet road. It had just stopped raining.
With everything else going on, Sarah didn't have much time to think about her outfit. She went for her usual, all-black combo, a strapless, figure-hugging dress, black invisible bra, lace thong, and garter belt set with matching thigh-high stockings and high heels.
She went straight to the hotel — no dinner date tonight. Sarah was very well connected and running into a friend was likely. She didn't want to be spotted dining with her two fuckboys. It was too obvious. She climbed out of the cab in front of the hotel. Followed by the clicking of her heels on the wet stone pavement tiles, she headed inside.
Isaac was waiting for her in the lobby. He wore a slim-fit, blue shirt and chinos. His wide smile beamed at her from under his well-groomed beard. He was a lot taller than she expected him to be, towering over her even with her heels on. And, he brought a rose.
They took the elevator together to the forty-seventh floor and walked down the hotel corridor. Sarah's stomach tensed. She's had dozens of one-night stands over the years. But each of those was a perfectly balanced encounter. How was she supposed to even handle two men at the same time? What was she doing?