Most erotic stories start off with a description of the participants. The woman is described with lovely, if not large, breasts. She has a trim figure and cute ass. The man is described as tall, muscular, and well-endowed. Most of the time that is not reality, particularly so in my situation. The woman in our story, my wife of multiple decades, has large breasts, but they sag with age. Also, despite surgery years ago, she is still significantly overweight. There is no cute ass, but multiple surgical scars.

As an aside I seriously considered divorce, but it was just too darn expensive. I will spare the details, but with alimony, child support, tax consequences, insurance, I worked out I would have 60% of my usual income. I live in a nice house, but nothing fancy.  A divorce would mean moving into a cramped apartment and paying more in rent than I do now in a mortgage. I like living in a nice house and besides my wife makes a great meatloaf. 

Me, the man in our story, is of average height and average elsewhere. While I work out three times a week, muscular is not the first, second, or even third adjective one would use to describe my body. I am no male model but have aged fairly well. Think a sixty-year-old version of Alex Trebek

Because of her appearance, I am just not sexually attracted to my wife. What to do if not a divorce? I spent time on Lush. Besides reading stories, and chatting, I looked at many profiles. Most women claim size doesn’t matter, but if a woman on Lush has pictures of naked guys in her profile, they are usually rugged looking men with big cocks. They don’t look like me, a middle-aged guy with a middle-sized penis. I get it, Aquaman beats Alex Trebek any day.

Like most average guys, I wish that I had more than what Mother Nature gave them. All guys want the size and stamina of a porn star. One of my stories, A Present for Mary Beth reflects that desire. In that story, because of a bicycling accident, I’m rendered temporarily impotent. In order to have satisfying sex with Mary Beth, I try a male strapon with great success. Years of unsatisfying sex with my wife, with much nervousness, I bought a male strapon. I could make love to my wife without worrying that my dick was so turned off at what the eyes saw.

Testing the equipment.

There was a delay in shipping. For days and days, I had to make sure I was home to get the mail from the box up the street. Our now adult children still stop frequently, I didn’t want anyone to open the package up but myself. Finally, it arrived and I hid the package. It wasn’t until days later when my wife was out of the house, I could examine and try on my purchase. I wanted to test the equipment and be comfortable with it before putting it in use. Guys are like that with new tools.

My supersized cock is purple. I did not remember ordering purple. I later checked the website; that was the only color my model was sold in. I figured out the snaps and put it on. It was far more comfortable than I had expected. Naked except for my purple appendage, I walked around the house. I strutted. I took a few pictures. I couldn’t wait to take it for a test drive.

“Oh, my.”

One Friday afternoon I secreted my new toy in the bathroom off the bedroom. That evening, my wife and I had some wine and watched a movie. After the movie, as is our routine, my wife went back to the bedroom, dressed in something than her usual ugly nightshirt, and lit some candles.

A few minutes later, I went into the bathroom off the bedroom and slid my appendage on.  I stepped through the door, my wife exclaimed, “Oh my.” In the candlelight, she thought it was the real me. She was most excited. Once under the sheets, she discovered the truth. She did not freak out. We kissed and I fondled her. She enjoyed my attention on her large boobs. after a while, my fingers went southward.

First under panties, and then with the panties off, I teased her clit and fingered her pussy. She soon lost her negligee as well. While she enjoyed my fingers, I knew she was thinking about how my new purchase would feel.

I positioned her on the edge of the bed.  I stood by the bed and put the head of the new me at her entrance, and with her hand guiding me, slowly pushed in. The response was most favorable, a good squeal. I pushed on, slowly, another half inch went in. She was feeling good but scared.  I pushed on another inch. She liked what she felt so far, but said not to go any further. I was only a third of the way in. A snap popped. That was the sign we were done for the evening.

“I didn’t know the dress code.”

About two weeks later, there was another evening with wine and a movie. I wasn’t particularly in the mood. After the movie, my wife went on to bed. I fed the cat etcetera and came to bed a few minutes later. Under the sheets, my wife was naked, and brilliant conversationalist that I am, said the obvious, “You’re naked.”

To which my wife jokingly replied, “I didn’t know the dress code.”

I pulled out our purple friend from the bedside dresser. I put the purple "me" on.  She stroked “me” as we kissed. I think it turned her on. I teased and licked her nipples. This went on for a while. Sensing she was getting anxious my fingers drew southward. I teased her clit and began fingering her. I teased her some. She was quite wet with anticipation of something new.

I put my wife on the edge of the bed. (Being as fat as she is, she hasn’t been on top this century). I stood up facing her. The pretend me went in, just an inch, if that. Then, slowly forward, pause, forward, pause, forward and finally all the way in. My purple cock was all the way inside. My wife made “oohs” and “ahhs” I haven’t heard since Clinton was President. I moved out, then back in. Slowly at first, but soon we had a normal rhythm.

We fucked like a real couple. She suggested doggy style. I declined, both because I didn't want to look at the enormous ass, but also because also I was afraid.  I was afraid that with weight shifting on the bed, I could get seriously hurt.  I just continued with our rhythm, but then gave an extra vigorous thrust. She asked to stop. The next day she was sore, really sore. I felt guilty.

Don’t forget the lube.

We agreed some lube was needed. Again, I waited and waited for a package to arrive. It did, but we had houseguests, so another week went by without any chance to play.  Finally, another Friday, without houseguests, rolled around. On went my purple appendage. The foreplay was much the same as before. The preliminaries were much the same as before, then it was time for the main event.  It felt weird to rub lube on my pretend dick, but I ignored the feeling. This time the fake me didn't take nearly as long to go all the way in. My wife knew what to expect and things were slipperier; my wife was not afraid. She just laid back and enjoyed the experience. I was a porn star. I was Superman.

We were having a great time. Still, as I was making love to my wife with the pretend me, I wished I was looking at a Lois Lane instead of a before picture for a diet plan.   (Actually, most before diet pictures are even better looking than my wife). I wondered if my dick, unencumbered, would ever see the inside of a pussy again.