Within seconds, we’re in his bedroom, clothing flying everywhere in our frenzy.
Before I can think twice, Greg is shirtless and I’m pantsless, and we’re both out of breath. He moves away from me slowly and unbuttons his jeans.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to get myself under control. This is the moment my body has craved for a long time. If I’m not careful, I’ll either jump his bones and this will be over too soon. Or I’ll jump his bones and scare him off.
When I finally feel confident enough to open my eyes, I know he’s naked. Completely and utterly nude. I can see it in my peripheral vision. I want so bad to look and touch and kiss him everywhere. But I want to take this slow even more. Instead of letting my primal urges take over, I force myself to hold his gaze.
He seems strangely shy and it throws me off kilter for a second. Why would Greg be shy? He’s like a god, personified.
My eyes peruse down his chiseled pecks, his rock-hard six-pack, his very nice hips, right down to his package.
His very… underwhelming package.
Holy shit. Libby was right.
I blink a few times, not believing what I’m seeing. He’s perfect, so physically perfect, I wasn’t expecting… well, I was expecting more. Much, much more.
“This is why I don’t live up north,” he chuckles nervously. “Could you imagine if it shriveled up?”
My eyes snap up to meet his. He’s blushing and is clearly embarrassed. I’ve never seen Greg blush before. I’ve never seen him embarrassed before. It’s disconcerting. This amazing, perfect, fantastic man—all six-foot-two, chiseled abs, face of a god—is ashamed because he’s sporting what many would call a micro-peen.
Ok, it’s not that small. But by today’s cultural standards, this part of him is considered sub-par.
“Why would you joke about yourself like that?” I whisper.
“Defense mechanism?” he replies with a shrug. “Remember when I said everyone has some part of their body that they’re ashamed of. Here’s mine.” His eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere except at me.
“Greg.”
He refuses to look at me. Instead, keeping his eyes trained on the floor, waiting for me to make the next move. But I’m frozen in my own thoughts.
Does his size really matter to me? I know Callie and I have joked about things like this before. But when it really boils down to it, is this a deal breaker? I don’t even have to think about it because I know the answer already.
No.
I don’t care if he’s hung like a horse or like a two-year-old. I don’t care if he’s sporting a six pack or a keg. I don’t care if he has the face of an angel or the angel of death. I care about him.
What makes me pause is not this question. It’s the sudden realization, that he thinks the same thing about me. What I perceive as physical flaws don’t matter to him at all.
“Greg, please look at me,” I plead.
Slowly, he brings his eyes up to mine and I can see the anxiety he’s feeling. I recognize it, because it’s the same anxiety I have.
Taking a deep breath, I make the decision to show him exactly how much this doesn’t matter to me. Taking the hem of my camisole in my hands and never breaking his gaze, I pull it over my head and drop it to the floor, bearing my own physical insecurities to him.
“Funny how nursing children can make the balloons deflate and just… hang there. Unless I buy a strong underwire, of course,” I laugh sadly.
He looks up at me and he’s not amused. “Don’t talk about yourself that way.”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
My point made, the anxiety in his eyes quickly slips away, desire taking its place. Insecure and nervous Greg disappears and confident, fun, lovable Greg is back.
“You know I’m really good at oral,” he brags, a cocky grin forming on his face as we get more comfortable with each other’s nudity.
“I have no doubt.” I quirk my eyebrow. “And I’m looking forward to reciprocating. I’ve never done that before.”
His head snaps back. “You’ve never given a blow job?”
“Well, I’ve started the process. But I have a weak gag reflex so I’ve never been able to finish it,” I explain, as his hooded eyes continue to look me up and down. The look on his face makes me feel beautiful and desirable. I haven’t felt this way in, well, maybe I’ve never felt this way. “I’m looking forward to you being my first completed BJ.”
“Good god, it’s hot when you talk about sucking me off,” he practically growls, and in a micro-second, he’s on me. His lips on mine. His hands exploring my body. His strong limbs picking me up and carrying me to the bed, something a weaker man wouldn’t be able to do.
Wow. He is strong. This is such a turn on.
He lays me down, carefully laying on top of me and kisses down my neck. He rubs my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I’m so turned on, I don’t even mind that he has to practically feel all the way down to my stomach to find my boob.
We both are imperfect. We both have our insecurities. And yet, neither of us care one rat’s ass about those perceived flaws.
A realization hits me at the same time he tweaks my nipple, causing me to gasp.
“Oh my gosh, you can stick it in my butt!” I squeal.
Greg freezes, tongue on my neck, one hand still on my boob. He pulls back to look at me, a very confused look on his face. “Did you just say… What?”
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to try exit-only stuff, but I’ve always been too scared to do it? But you won’t hurt as bad,” I blurt out. “And I bet it would even feel good. Do you think we can try that?”
He chuckles and leans on his elbows above me. “We can try anything you want after I get over the shock of you propositioning me for anal.”
“I’m so excited now. There are so many things I’ve always wanted to try but with bigger-girthed men, forget it. I don’t want to be ripped in half.” I continue to ramble as my thoughts run away from me. “But with you, we can try all kinds of things. Like, like… a dildo and you at the same time!” He drops his head to my shoulder and I feel him shaking with laughter. But I’m not done with my rant. “We can be adventurous. I can’t even tell you how happy this makes me!
“Don’t you see, Greg? This…” He hisses as I wrap my hand around him and squeeze gently, rubbing my thumb across his tip. “… this is perfect for me. You are perfect for me.”
I look up into his eyes and see an expression I’ve never had directed at me before… total and utter adoration.
He leans down and kisses me slowly, gently, passionately. “You are amazing, you know that?” he says when we come up for air.
I nod. “Only because you make me feel that way.”
“It’s more than that. It’s just you. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking your shirt off.” I smile and rub his cheek. He kisses my palm and then begins to shimmy his way down my body. “Now lay back.”
“Why? What are you doing?” Suddenly, I feel a mixture of excited and like I’ve been caught off guard.
He pauses and looks up at me, a playful grin on his face. “You know that phrase, ‘It’s not the size of the wave, it’s the motion of the ocean?’” I bite my lip and nod. “I’m about to show you why it’s all true.”
And that’s what he does.
Four times.
He’s lying on his back, gently rubbing my arm. I’m lying on his chest, absentmindedly rubbing his abs. We’re still naked and all tangled up in each other. And I’ve finally found a reason to be happy I’m childless every other weekend.
I’d forgotten what it means to laze around in bed with a man and enjoy the feel of each other. I think I had that with James a few times before Fiona was born, but it was so long ago, I could very well be making up memories.
Regardless, this is my current reality, and I couldn’t be more content.
“It really doesn’t bother you?” Greg asks quietly. My hand freezes, mid stroke, as I try to figure out what he’s talking about. It’s such an open-ended question and my brain is still mush from all the orgasms that it takes a few seconds to figure out what he means.
Slowly, I push myself up until I’m leaning my head on my hand, my elbow on the bed next to him. “Are you talking about you’re… um…” I wave my hand in the general direction, not sure what to call it.
He smirks. “My dick? Cock? Penis? Lots of words for you to choose from, Elena.”
I roll my eyes at him, even though I can feel myself blushing. “We haven’t talked about what you want me to call it, so I don’t know.”
He shifts until he’s facing me. “How about you call it my Johnson?”
“What are you, a frat boy?”
He chuckles mildly, then his face turns serious. “I’m serious, Elena. If I’m not giving you what you need, I want you to tell me. I never want to not be good enough for you.”
“Because of your penis size?”
He tries to smile because he knows the words sound ridiculous out loud, but he looks sad instead.
“Why does this bother you?” I ask, genuinely concerned about where this is coming from. We just had amazing non-sex. Why would he even question whether or not I’m satisfied?
He grabs a lock of my hair and begins to play with it absentmindedly. “Libby used to throw it in my face all the time. Whenever we would fight, that was her go-to argument. That I wasn’t a real man because I couldn’t satisfy her during intercourse. But she never wanted to try anything different to make it work, ya know?”
“Well that’s stupid on her part. I’ve never had an orgasm during intercourse either, and James was probably on the above-average side. Didn’t make a difference at all.”
“Really?”
“Really. My body isn’t equipped for that, and he wasn’t interested in making the effort to try other things on my behalf.”
“What a dick,” Greg grumbles.
“I know. He really thought being well endowed automatically made him a good lover. He was so, so wrong.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s not about where you stick it. It’s about paying attention to your partner’s needs and likes. It’s about noticing what makes them squirm and moan and get that look on their face.”
“What look?”
“You know the look.” He smirks. “The one where your eyes roll in the back of your head and your mouth falls open and your head falls back.”
I feel flush as his words turn me on again. “Do I make that face?”
“Oh yeah.” He smiles really big as I blush.
“Great.” I drop my face onto his shoulder. “Now I’m self-conscious.”
He chuckles and rubs my back. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s a huge turn-on.”
We lay silently for a few moments, him dropping kisses on my head every once in a while. Me, enjoying the quiet. But he can’t let it go.
“Um, how much of this are you going to tell Callie?”
I pop my head up and look at him with confusion. “You mean besides the fact that I had the best sex of my life?”
“We didn’t have sex.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down at me, making me smile.
“I know. That’s the most amazing part of it all.”
“I guess I’m wondering what else you’re going to tell her.”
And it hits me. He’s worried I’m going to blather on to her about the thing he’s most ashamed of. The thing he’s most embarrassed about. I sit up quickly, situating myself cross-legged with the blanket over my legs. I don’t care if it’s made of actual gold, no woman needs to sit naked and cross-legged after having been diddled by her boyfriend. A relaxed vag isn’t necessarily an attractive vag.
“You think I’m going tell Callie about… your size?”
He grimaces. “It’s a micro-peen, Elena. Call it what it is.”
“Stop that,” I reprimand. “It’s not that small, so I don’t want to hear you say that about yourself again. I’m trying to get to the heart of the matter here.” I shift closer to him. “Why would I tell Callie that? Why would I do that to you?”
He sighs and I know this has to do with Libby again. In this moment, I hate her more than I’ve ever hated anyone. “She used to make fun of me in front of our friends all the time,” he grumbles, like he’s ashamed to say it out loud. “We’d be out at a club or something, and we’d all be joking around and she’d make a snide comment like, ‘Well if I got to hump more than a hot dog every night.’ She’d say something like that almost every time we went out.”
I crinkle my nose. Partially because that’s insulting to him. Partially because that’s insulting to my favorite barbeque food. She could do worse than a hot dog.
“I love hot dogs,” I say under my breath.
“I know you do. Medium well. Don’t burn it. At least two.” He smiles for a second, but then continues. “At first, I thought it was her way of being funny with the crowd or whatever. But then I started noticing her girlfriends would look at me and laugh just a little too hard. Raise their pinkies at each other and stuff. At that point, I knew they were laughing at me. I got used to rolling my eyes and playing it off, but it still stung. It wasn’t even because these other people were laughing at me, as much it was that my wife was purposely trying to humiliate me. And not privately. But in front of other people.”
“Greg, if it wasn’t that, it would have been something else,” I remind him. “Libby is a back-stabbing whore who will use anything to hurt you as long as she gets what she wants.”
“I know that.” He rolls on his back and puts his arm over his eyes. “But you can understand why it makes me nervous that you tell Callie everything.”
I stare at him while he lays there, his jaw clenching. His cheeks are still red from a blush that hasn’t gone away. It occurs to me that this is something that really bothers him. Not in a “I hope we’re on the same page” kind of way. He’s been wounded by Libby as deeply as I was wounded by James.
The difference is, in today’s culture, it’s almost a given that women fight back. Social media explodes when women body-shame each other. There are articles written for women about loving your body and being proud of what you’ve got.
The same isn’t true of men. Sure, there is some talk about not shaming either gender. But it’s mostly about abs and receding hairlines. I can honestly say I have never once run across an article titled “Be proud of your penis, no matter what size it is!” But I have seen multiple articles talking about breast size. And while women may cry to their best friend about the pain they feel, the same can’t also be said of men.
So this beautiful amazing man has suffered alone over his insecurities. He’s been body-shamed for years by the person he was supposed to be able to trust with his secrets. It breaks my heart. All I want to do now is make him understand how much more he has to offer than that one little part of him.
No pun intended.
Slowly, I climb over and straddle him, my saggy breasts and lumpy belly on full display. “I’ve always been insecure about my body. Always.” He swallows, but doesn’t move. “When I was a gymnast, I had a tight little butt, but no boobs. And I hated that. Then I got older and the boobs never grew in. Instead, I had a big butt, cellulite, and still no boobs. Then I nursed three babies and ended up like this.”
Greg swallows, but still doesn’t move.
“When James told me he was having an affair and was leaving me, he said it was my fault. That if I had only had a boob job or had a flatter stomach or took better care of myself, maybe he wouldn’t have had to go find someone else to turn him on.”
“James is an idiot,” Greg grumbles.
“And so is Libby.” I grab Greg’s arm and try to pull it off his face. It takes several tugs, but he finally gives up and moves his arm to the side. “Greg, I will never, ever disrespect you like that. I will never humiliate you like that. What we’ve shared, that’s between you and me. No one else.
“Sure, I’m going to tell Callie that you gave me the best orgasms of my life…” He finally smirks. “And I’ll probably tell her once we finally do have anal because she’s as curious as I am…”
He grimaces. “Don’t ever tell me if she tries it, too. I don’t want that visual.”
“Ben has a low-libido anyway. I think you’re safe.” He looks me in the eye as I run my hands across his beard. “But I’m making you a promise. I will never shame your body. Any part of it. Not even when you’re old and wrinkly and you can’t get it up anymore.” That comment elicits a chuckle from him. “It goes against my entire character to use something intimate and personal as entertainment for others. I promise you. If you please promise that you won’t make fun of me either.”
He looks up at me, nothing but genuine care and, dare I say, love in his eyes.
“I hate that James made you feel less than because of something I think is beautiful,” he whispers as he rubs his hands up and down my sides, his thumbs brushing over the spare tire around my waist.
“And I hate that Libby has such an aversion to hot dogs.” He laughs and grabs me, rolling me over to my back, him on top. “Seriously, what is her deal? They are the ideal food. Not too big. Not small. Putting one in my mouth always puts me in a better mood...”
“Are you finished?” he growls, kissing all over my neck.
“…Especially if you put ketchup and relish on it. Ohh! We should bring condiments to bed! That could be fun.”
“You’re ridiculous. And I really want to be inside you.”
“I’m not stopping you.” My eyes roll in the back of my head like he said would happen. Then he pushes inside me for the first time, making me gasp in delight. “And you’re amazing,” I breathe.
That’s no exaggeration. When Callie asks, because he and I both know she will, I can’t wait to tell her his package comes with the biggest gift I’ve had in a long time—him. Because it’s the truth.