If all went well, I’d be one of them. Where the hell are you? I flipped through the number of button up shirts looking for something specific. Ah... there ya are. I put on the shirt before going into the bathroom to fix my hair. I like to look good when I go out, so everything had to be perfect before I could leave. I gave myself one last look over before heading out the door. “Hey!” I heard as I unlocked my truck. “How’s it going?” I asked, trying not to sound too excited. “Oh, you know,. I kept telling myself that I must have been mistaken, that there was no way that "My little man" could have such a… …such a big penis. But, the more I tried to dismiss it, the more I dwelled on it and the more I needed to know. It had even gotten to the point where I’d found myself standing outside the bathroom door once with my hand on the knob ready to barge in with the intention of catching another quick look. I know how all this sounds. One night, I’d come in from a late dinner with the. Using both hands on her – their actions sometimes in unison – at others harmonising, quite literally playing her, by using each one in some slightly different way. Only every now and then either rolling or tweaking each one of those delightfully sensitive little buds. All the time my hands had been caressing her breasts, I had been using my lips and tongue to kiss and teasingly lick her neck, back and forth along the nape, and around and up and down each side, then every now and then bending so. Six months later our personal therapy usually went like this. I would leave her dog collar and leash on the bed when she woke up. It was our personal signal that I felt she needed a session. So at about noon and I went up to her and put the leather collar around her neck. Then she went and put on her special black leather bra and matching panties. I sat in my recliner watching my favorite NFL team winning and I was feeling good. My wife lay on the floor by my feet with her collar and leash.