A Question Of Size: Stacey's Story (The Right Fit Series Book 1) (2 page)

I wondered what the movie was. If I could’ve reached the remote, I would’ve tried to record it. I turned my head and looked at the back of my husband’s head. His body tensed, he was going to blow. Yeah here it comes. He jerked and grunted as he reached his climax.

Well bully for him, the selfish bastard.

Chapter two

I was still annoyed as I made that selfish, conceited bastard his breakfast of poached eggs, toast and baked beans. I was banging around in the kitchen when Jeff put in an appearance. He smiled and started to whistle, coming over to kiss me before taking his usual seat at the table.

“It’s a lovely morning isn’t it?” he asked, as he munched on a piece of toast.

“Maybe for you,” I retorted.

“Is something wrong, love?” He was wearing a puzzled expression. I pondered for a moment: should I broach the issue or leave it? In two minds, I decided to leave it, until…

“Last night was amazing, wasn’t it?”

Something snapped inside me.

“Jeffery R. Richardson, there was absolutely nothing about last night that was amazing for me.” There, I’d said it. I felt liberated somehow, until I saw the hurt look on his face. “I’m sorry, Jeff, but I need to be honest. I’ve kept quiet for too many years.”

“I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?”

“It’s not what you did wrong that’s the problem Jeff. It’s what you did right, but didn’t follow through on. I was at the brink and you left me hanging then satisfied yourself,” I said.

“I’m sorry, love, I thought I got it right. I did everything I saw on the video.”

“The video?” I asked. My coffee cup paused in midair.

“Yes, the video. I went with Frank from the office to one of those sex shops with the video booths. I watched a video and thought about it all afternoon. I wanted to please you,” he said.

“But you haven’t been near me in that way for six years. Why now?” I asked.

He lowered his gaze, for a moment I thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“I got tired of seeing the look of disappointment on your face after we made love. You’ve never looked satisfied.”

“What do you mean?” My mind searched my memory banks.

“You never said anything, if that’s what you think I’m saying. I could just tell, you didn’t want me that way anymore.” He picked up his mug as if he needed something to hang on to. “I could just see as the years rolled by, the spark slowly disappeared from your eyes and you seemed uninterested in having sex.”

I felt terrible. I had no idea he felt that way.

“So all this time we weren’t having sex because you thought I didn’t enjoy having sex with you?”

“That, and when I was at the gym. They have communal showers. I could see that all the other men seemed bigger than me.” He played with the food on his plate, not looking at me. I suppose he was waiting for me to digest what he was saying. “I’ve spent the last six years masturbating and listening to the men at the gym say how much women wanted men with big penises who can perform like a porn star.” He looked up at me now, and I could see the tears in his eyes. I reached over and took his hand, but he pulled away from me.

“No, don’t pity me, I couldn’t bear that.”

“I don’t pity you, Jeff, I love you. Maybe we should have had this talk years ago,” I said.

“I was so frustrated lying next to you at night and not being able to touch you, to love you. But I’d rather have you here with me without sex, than to lose you Stace.” He brought his hand back to cup mine. “I had no one to ask, at least no one I felt comfortable with for that kind of advice. So I just listen to the men talking and became more and more confused. Then yesterday Frank suggested we go to the sex shop. I thought… I thought if I watched the video I could try something different and please you.” He squeezed my hand.

“Look Jeff I love you. The problem with our lovemaking is not your size. It’s the lack of consideration for my needs. I’ve never had an orgasm, Jeff.  I’ve floated on the edge, but I’ve never had one. That’s what happened last night. I came so close and then you just stopped.”

“I’m sorry, love.” He looked at his watch. “Tell you what, we’ll pick up where we left off when I get home, how’s that?” He kissed me feather light on the lips, moving towards the door.

“Should I see if I can find a solution on the internet? While you’re at work?” I asked

“Yeah, sure, do whatever you think best,” he threw back as he left the house.

I sat at the kitchen table alone and frustrated, wishing I’d taken the advice of my friends when they said I should try before I buy. They were in utter shock when I told them that although Jeff and I had been together two years before we got married, we hadn’t done the wild thing.

“How will you know if you’re compatible?” Liz had asked

“Forget compatible, how do you know if he’s any good at it?” Jackie piped in.

“You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?” Liz asked, accusingly as if there was something wrong in waiting until you married to have sex.

“I don’t believe in sex before marriage. It’s not a crime to want to wait for the right man, you know. You make it sound as if waiting is immoral,” I said, flushed. I felt as if I was abnormal or something.

“So what about Jeff, how many notches does he have on his belt?” Jackie asked, digging me in my side with her elbow.  Before I could answer, Liz chimed in.

“Doesn’t Jeff pressure you for sex when you’re out together? He must be on you all the time. You’ve been together for near on two years. Has he even had a ‘whiff of it?’” Liz laughed at her own stupid joke.

“No, Jeff respects me. Not like the riff raff you go out with, Liz, with their, wham bam thank you ma’am. I’d be surprised when your time comes to get married if you can find a man you haven’t already sampled,” I said, meaning to cause offence.

However, Liz just laughed and said I was probably right.

“Well I think it’s weird Jeff hasn’t tried it on,” Jackie said. The look I gave made her blush, but she continued anyway, “What? I’m just saying that’s all.”

Looking back, I should have been more like my friends. Hindsight’s a bitch. When Jeff had confessed to me he was a virgin too, I thought,
how sweet: we could learn together.
How wrong was I? We were a fumbling mess, like schoolchildren playing at mummies and daddies. It took us a while to get the hang of things. It went downhill after we did discover where things went. Jeff would come immediately, feeling the warmth off my entrance. Sometimes he didn’t even have to get it in before he came.

It took months before he could control his premature ejaculation. After a while, he did learn to control it. But it didn’t get any better, because he’d finish seconds before me, which left me frustrated and bitter. I began to dread making love with him. However, at no time did I think I’d transmitted that vibe to Jeff until he mentioned it this morning. He’d never said anything before, he’d just let me alone. I felt so stupid, six years wasted when all I really had to do was tell him what I needed.

Yet, how did I do that when I didn’t know myself. I cleaned the kitchen then went to the study and opened up the laptop. Maybe I’d find something online that might help me make up my mind. Then I could tell Jeff tonight what I wanted. He did say we’d continue where we left off. I clicked onto the porn sites I’d heard Liz and Jackie talk about all the time. I’ve never watched a porn film before. I wondered how long they ran on for, as I glanced at my watch. It was grocery day and I wanted to miss the afternoon shoppers. I hated standing in long queues to pay for shopping.

I told myself I’d watch for an hour then leave to do my shopping. Thinking back, that was the worst thing I could possibly have done. With my lack of satisfaction the night before, I had a longing in my loins that needed to be sated.

The things I saw on the website made my body burn with desire. I felt my sweet spot throbbing with longing. I was a walking clustered of nerves, my nipples reacted to the lace of my bra. My snatch pulsated and contracted as I recalled the short movies I’d watched.

I switched off the computer and readied myself for shopping, feeling more aroused than ever.

I was tempted to stay home and practice masturbation like the woman I’d seen.

Just wishful thinking.

I was a few ingredients short for our evening meal. I had to go.

***

The task of shopping became a mission in itself. With my senses heightened, walking by the frozen food section had my nipples hardening, sending shock waves of desire and a carnal craving to my nether regions. I needed to do something about the way I felt. I became giddy and light headed. I had to get out of the supermarket and go home.

In my haste to get the shopping into the car, I caught the last bag against the boot lock. It ripped apart. I watched open mouthed as the contents scattered across the car park. I began to pick the items up, close to tears.

Jeff had fired something up in me that wouldn’t go away. Those movies only helped to make a bad situation worse. I was putting in some of the goods I’d retrieved when I heard an accented voice. “I think this is the last of it.”

I wiped my eyes as I gazed up at the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. He was tall and slim. Mediterranean looking, dark skinned with pale green eyes, shoulder length black hair and chiseled features with dimples. As I took the groceries from him, I noticed his hands. His fingers were long and perfectly manicured. Our hands touched and heat surged through my body. I staggered against my vehicle and he grabbed me.

“Are you alright?” he asked. The smile left his face, replaced by concern. Why was he concerned about me, a complete stranger? I couldn’t speak, my mouth opened and closed like a fish, my hormones were raging. I felt even more lightheaded than before. I swooned and his hand tightened about me, then nothing but darkness.

***

The sound of Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons
coursed through my subconscious mind, piercing its way into my consciousness. My eyes slowly flickered open. I was in unfamiliar surroundings and alone. The coat I wore was gone. I jack-knifed into a sitting position and noted my dress was raised to the top of my thighs. Nothing else seemed disturbed. I looked around the room. It was contemporary and very masculine. Everything had sharp lines in black, white, chrome or a combination of a least two of those colours.

The furnishings were a marked contradiction to the period of the Victorian style house, which had maintained some of its original features: The ostentatious, elaborate cast-iron fireplace and bay windows. My gaze followed the high polished wooden floor, the moulded border along the walls and around the hanging light. Yet, it worked well. I gazed around this room with the sterile white walls in search of my shoes, coat and bag.

It was weird, but I didn’t feel afraid even though I had no idea where I was or how I’d gotten there. What I felt was a glow of excitement in the pit of my stomach as I heard footsteps coming towards me. He stood in the doorframe. He’d changed into sweat pants and a vest top which accentuated his physique. My face reddened, and my breath quickened as I admired the bronze idol before me. My thoughts paraded all manner of illicit imagery across my mind’s eye.

Chapter Three

I swung my legs off the sofa onto the floor, but remained seated. “Who are you? How did I get here?” I asked, sure he could read the puzzled expression on my face.

“I’m Alessandro Agostino. You fell into my arms in the store car park. So I brought you to my home,” he said, leaning against the doorframe barefooted with his arms folded across his chest. A smile spread across his face. Damn, there should be a law against being so hot with dimples. The memories came flooding back and so did the feeling of wanting to feel fulfilled. My crotch moistened and my flush deepened.

“How do you feel now?” he asked as he moved towards me. “You gave me quite a fright, I can tell you.”

“I’m sorry,” I stuttered.

Having him so close to me set my pulse racing. I tugged at the hem of my dress, pulling it as far down as I could. I wanted to get up and leave, but my legs were like jelly.

“You didn’t have any identification with you except for your debit and library card. ‘Stacey Richardson.’ Sorry I had a look through your bag to see if there was anyone I should call.”

I looked towards my bag. Strange, I usually carried my driving license, as well as an emergency contact card, which came with the purse when I bought it. I’d thought it was a good idea and filled in my basic personal details: name, date of birth, allergies and my husband’s contact details. Then I noticed my wedding ring was also missing. I hadn’t put it back on after the washing up. I didn’t understand, I’d never forgotten to put it back on before.

“I must have left them in the car,” I said absently, mainly speaking to myself to rationalise why I didn’t have these things with me.

“No you didn’t, I looked there too when I brought your shopping over to my house.”

“You did what?” I was incredulous. “Why would you bring my shopping into your home?”

“It seemed like the logical thing to do at the time. You fainted. The things I saw in your boot needed to stay frozen. I had no idea how long you be out.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to appear ungrateful, but why didn’t you just call the emergency services?”

“I check your vital signs and you were okay. I saw no need to involve anyone else.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“No, but I have some medical training, and my diagnosis was you fainted. So, I brought you here.”

“Where exactly is
here
?” I was surprised it took me this long to ask the question of my whereabouts. Was I going mad? I was sitting in the home of a strange man; my groceries were in his freezer. He’d removed some of my clothing. Albeit only my coat and shoes. He had no business taking anything off me. He’d gone through my bag and car. Yet none of this appeared to faze me.

“I live across the street from the car park.”

I barely registered what he said, still a prisoner of my own thoughts.