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But fake hair is the least of my problems because now that I’m back on the market, the secret of my double-dick is out. I’ve taken pains to keep my anatomy under wraps, and was successful for years, to be honest. I’ve always been a one-woman man, and there’s a reason for that: I didn’t want everyone and their mother to know about my anatomy. As a result, I had one college girlfriend, and then met Marie shortly after graduation, and put a ring on it quick. So it’s not like I have dozens of notches on my bedpost. Instead, I’m private almost to the point of being secretive, and the reason is because I’m an anatomical anomaly. I have two cocks with which to make women scream, and frankly, they can’t seem to get enough.
It’s a trait that runs in my dad’s family, although I’ve never known the guy. To make a long story short, my mom hooked up with a random European dude when she was young, and basically got pregnant immediately. The European dude, Fjall, never even knew about the pregnancy because he’d already returned to his home country by then. Besides, after Jennie found out she was expecting, she made a decision. She knew that if she told her lover about the baby, she might lose me. As a result, Jennie gave birth here in the United States, and raised me on her own. I’ve never met my father.
But it turns out that Fjall is European royalty of some tiny country near Albania, and it’s rumored that many of the men in that royal family have two dicks. I can attest to the rumor because I have two cocks, one right on top of the other. They were cute when I was young, like two limp pencils that I’d play with while giggling in the bath. But my mom warned me to keep my anatomical specialties under wraps because people tend to mistrust anything that’s different, and my particular difference would single me out for unwanted attention.
As a result, I hid my double cocks. I’d wear loose pants, and I never joined any organized sports so that I never had to take my clothes off in the boys’ locker room. Sometimes, I even bound my lower cock to my leg so that there’s only one bulge at my crotch, and I took pains to never swim in public, nor put myself in a position where my secret could get out. Of course, the hospital where I was born was aware of my difference, and my wife and college girlfriend knew too. But they kept mum, and I’m grateful for their discretion after all these years.
But yeah, now the secret’s out. Marie’s been gone for a while, and using fake plastic pussies while watching porn isn’t enough anymore. Don’t get me wrong because those silicone pussies are the bomb and you can even find models sculpted to resemble your favorite adult actress. But plastic only goes so far, and I need the relief of a sassy, curvy woman with a wet, welcoming twat.
Yet I haven’t found a woman to keep my interest now that I’m back on the dating scene. Again, the ladies of Allentown aren’t terrible; they’re just not what I’m looking for. The women seem to have baggage, what with previous marriages, unruly children, or even worse, reality-TV addictions. Yes, that exists. The last woman I dated literally began to cry while watchingLove Is Blindor some shit like that. She was so invested in the melodrama that tears dripped off her chin while she sobbed into my shoulder. I, on the other hand, prayed for an act of God to get me out of this fucking hellhole. The whining and bitching from the characters on TV drove me nuts, and I almost punched a hole through the flatscreen in frustration.
But that’s just what dating is like these days. Even worse, the rumors are already beginning to spread. Allentown isn’t the biggest city in the world, and I know some of the ladies I’ve squired about town have loose lips. They’re probably gossiping with their friends about my special double-dicked anatomy, and so I’m likely going to have to button it up for a while. The thought of going celibate pains me, but what other choice do I have? I don’t want theNational Enquirerknocking at my door because everyone knows that tabloid magazines have no ethics. They operate along the lines of “shoot first, regret later.” It’s not a great business model, if you ask me.
But that brings me back to Leah. I feel like a complete asshole for even studying the teen girl’s lush curves, but I can’t help myself. The woman has a body built for sin, and she’s likely had dozens of liaisons now. Hell, if I were a boy her age, I’d be all over that sweetness, trying to get to home base at every turn.
But who am I kidding? Because that’s exactly the problem. I’mnotLeah’s age. I’m her dad’s college buddy, and literally in my forties. I’m a widower. I’m an old coot with a mortgage, car payments, and dirty thoughts. Leah deserves better than an ancient asshole like me. Even worse, I’m harboring a secret, and any sane woman would scream with horror upon seeing my double dicks. Then again, the women I’ve dated so far are a different story because they don’t scream. They begin to salivate and practically tear off their panties, they’re so eager to ride the double-headed dragon.
But where does Leah belong on the spectrum? Would she be horrified if she knew, or would she fall to her knees before me in worship? Would she immediately part her lips, sticking out her tongue as I paint her mouth with my semen? Or would she back away slowly, her eyes wide with horror?
I frown, forcing myself to take a sip of beer. It’s not my place to find out because this woman is forbidden, no matter how beautiful and alluring she is. Leah is my buddy’s daughter, and I simply can’t go there.
“Hey Killian,” Leah sings, wending her way towards the pergola. “It’s nice to see you. Are you guys going for a swim today?”
I grunt.
“No, I don’t think so. I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
Leah looks surprised.
“Well, Daddy can lend you some swim trunks. I know you’re not exactly the same size because you’re six inches taller, but it’s fine. I’m sure Daddy has some old suits lying around, right? Don’t you Daddy? You have something that would fit Killian.”
Jimmy nods, bemused.
“Definitely, yeah. Although I don’t think Killian would fit any of my clothes because you’re about twice my size. But you know that we keep spare suits in the cabana. Go ahead and help yourself, my friend.”
I’m about to say no when suddenly, Leah shimmies out of her top and skirt, leaving her curves clad in nothing but a hot pink bikini. Oh shit! Her tits are huge and creamy, and at least Double Ds by my reckoning. Not only that, but she’s got a narrow waist with a glittery belly-button piercing, and her bikini bottoms don’t cover much. In fact, said bottoms are nothing more than a tiny square patch shielding her clit connected to a couple strings, and Leah giggles when she sees me staring.
“I’m going in the water, Killian. Won’t you join me?”
I can’t speak as the young girl dives like a swan into the pool, cerulean waves rippling as her sinuous form slices into the water. My two cocks jerk when she reappears, as sleek and playful as a seal.
“Come in!” she giggles, splashing me a bit. “It’s warm!”
“You should go in, Killian,” my buddy intones, taking another sip of his beer. “Oh shit, I’m out. Let me get another one. You want one too?”
Now, I’m in a fucking dilemma because the unexpected sight of Leah in her barely-there bikini has me hard. Not semi-hard, or semi-erect. I meanhardhard. I’ve gone from rubber to steel in about two seconds, and I know that if I don’t do something about it, not only will I embarrass myself, but my secret will be out.
As a result, I cross my legs and turn to Jimmy.
“Naw, I’m good thanks. But you know what? I think I will take a dip. The cabana has extra swimsuits, right?”
Jimmy’s already headed back into the house, completely focused on his next Natty Light.
“Yeah!” he calls. “Help yourself, buddy.”
Then, the slight man disappears indoors while I get up and scurry to the cabana. Leah’s underwater at the moment, and thank fuck for the little things because I can’t let her see how I’m hobbling with pain due to my fucking erections. Shit, shit, shit. Going underwater is the only way to save face, and to keep my secret under wraps for the moment.
Quickly, I let myself into the cool darkness of the cabana and breathe a sigh of relief. I have a bit of privacy for a moment, but I can’t stay here forever because Jimmy will be back out soon. Quickly, I open a couple of cabinets, searching for the aforementioned spare swimsuits, and locate a pile of men’s trunks. Perfecto. But to my horror, these are clearly too small. They’re Jimmy’s size, and while I love my friend dearly, he’s about five seven and a hundred and thirty pounds. Meanwhile, I’m six three and two hundred and thirty pounds. Go figure.
