I started a new job a few months ago, and there’s a coworker of mine, Grace, who I get along with really well. She’s 27, married, and really attractive. She’s got long blonde hair and has that magical slim thick build and loves to show it off with tight outfits and low-cut tops, which definitely turns heads at the office. I’m 23, 6'2", and I’d say I’m pretty average-looking outside of my dick, which is about 8.5 inches. On top of that, I’m a full "shower," so my bulge is always noticeable.
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We’ve always had a bit of light flirting—nothing serious, just playful banter. But yesterday, things took a turn I wasn’t expecting. We were in the break room getting coffee when, out of nowhere, she asked me, “How big is it?” At first, I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just played dumb. “How big is what?” I said. She smirked, glanced down, and said, “You know exactly what I mean.”
I was caught off guard. I’ve had people make comments before, but never this direct, especially at work. I kind of laughed it off, but she kept looking at me like she was waiting for an answer. So, without thinking too much, I just said, “Eight and a half.” Her eyes widened, and she just nodded, like she was processing that. Then she lowered her voice and said, “You know… my husband and I talk about you sometimes.”
That definitely threw me off. I asked, “What do you mean?” She hesitated for a second, then said, “He likes it when I tell him about you. He thinks it’s hot that I have a tall coworker with a big bulge around all day.” I didn’t know what to say to that. Before I could even react, she leaned in and said, “We’d love to have you over sometime. No pressure, just think about it.” Then she gave me this little smirk and walked out (with her ass swaying extra on purpose for sure).
So Grace hit me with that break room thing Thursday, and I couldn’t even last a day. Her invite was stuck in my head—those tight skirts, that smirk, the “no pressure” bullshit that felt like she knew I’d bite. Friday morning at work I was a wreck, sneaking looks at her, my bulge killing me in my jeans every time she walked by. After lunch I gave up and texted her, “Still good for tonight?” She texted back quick: “8pm. Don’t be late.”
I got to their place Friday night, my nerves all over. Grace opened the door in this black lace deal that barely covered shit, stuck to her slim-thick body, blonde hair everywhere. She didn’t say much—just gave me that look like she won and dragged me in. Her husband Mark was on the couch with a beer, smirking all nervous. “Hey, good to see you man,” he said, tipping the bottle at me. He’s like 30, 5-7, and looked nervous.
We sat for like a minute in awkward silence and then Grace got up, grabbed my hand, said, “C’mon, let’s get comfy.” She pulled me to their bedroom and Mark followed behind. She didn’t mess around—shoved me on the bed, climbed up, started yanking my shirt off while Mark hung by the dresser, watching. “Alright, let’s see it,” she said, hands on my belt. I was hard as fuck when she got my jeans off so my cock sprung out, and her eyes bugged out. “Holy shit,” she screamed. Mark mumbled, “Yeah, uh, knew I’d look tiny next to you.”
Grace spun on him, smirking mean, “Tiny? Mark, c’mon, show him that pathetic little thing.” He froze a sec, then dropped his pants, face going red. There it was—his little dicklet, like two inches, sad as hell next to mine. She laughed, harsh, holding me in one hand and pointing at him. “You kidding? This is a real dick—thick, long, all that. Yours looks like a damn shriveled raisin.”
Mark’s face was burning, but he was breathing funny—squirming, embarrassed, but his eyes stuck on her hand on me. Grace kept going, stroking me slow, “Feel this—it’s solid, fills my hand. You? I’d need a microscope for that little stub.” She’s sneering, ripping him—how mine’s got veins, how his just sits there like junk. I’m half shocked, half into it, but Mark’s twitchy, flustered, shorts getting tight even with her shitting on him.
She got on her knees, lips going down my cock, moaning low as she took it deep. “Now this is a man,” she said, pulling off to glare at Mark. He gulped, “Yeah babe, give him what he’s packing.” I flipped her on her back, ripped that lace off—she’s panting, legs open, wet as hell. I pushed in, all 8.5, and she gasped, “Fuck that’s deep.” I started pounding, hard, steady, her body shaking under me. Mark’s watching, eyes big, “Man you’re stretching her—mine’s got nothing on that.” Grace moaned, half laughing, “Nothing? Mark yours ain’t even in the game—this is what I been missing!”
Mark’s voice was shaky, “Keep going dude, she’s all about it—fuck her up with that thing.” She came hard, shaking, then again, yelling, “You’re worthless next to him!” I kept at it til I couldn’t hold it, unloading while she grabbed me tight. By the end Mark’s closer, staring at me like I’m a damn boss, voice rough, “Dude that was nuts. Your dick’s unreal—I’m shit next to you. You’re the real deal.” Grace, still breathing hard, smirked, “Told you—he’s on another level.”
After that I went to pee and my mind was racing. I got dressed quickly and ran out without saying anything. I’m not sure what happens now from here but that was the hottest experience of my life. I think I’m down to start doing this for other couples—it was amazing—but I don’t know what’s gonna happen this week at work lol.
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