Hotwife Holds The Key: CuckTales Book Two: Short Stories of Hotwives, Bulls, and Cuckold Husbands by Matthew Lee Ryan

Author:Matthew Lee Ryan
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: F.U.M. Productions
Published: 2020-11-24T05:00:00+00:00

I’m A Loser, Baby...

My name is Ned, and I’m a loser.

I haven’t always felt like a loser. In high school I was actually kind of popular. To a point, at least. Popular in a math-geek kind of way. I was the captain of the mathematics team and was even able to get a date with Becky, the sort-of-hot girl who wound up being the class president our senior year.

Becky even let me get to second base in the back seat of her car after senior prom, but she left for college in Indiana before I could seal the deal. She wrote me a long email several months later, where she confided in me that she had realized she was really more attracted to women, and had fallen head over heels in love with some girl named Anita who was in her physics class.

I left for college too, but it was in my freshman year at NYU where my confidence began to fall like a house of cards. I’d gone out on a date with Tamara, a stunning coed I’d met at the campus bookstore, and she seemed eager to get naked when we got back to her apartment after an Italian dinner.

She’d taken her clothes off and reclined on the bed, beckoning me to join her. I stripped out of my shirt and pants, but she could barely conceal her disappointment when we started making out and she reached into my boxer shorts.

“Oh,” she said, and to this day a single word has never deflated my spirit more.

“Does it get any bigger?” Tamara had finally asked. I’d assured her that it did when it was hard, but the truth was that even then, my dick was pretty little. Yes, I have a very small cock.

Tamara was kind enough to give me a hand job, which only lasted about thirty seconds before I shot my wad in her palm. She’d given me a quick kiss on the lips and had actually patted me on the head, like she felt bad for me. Then she mentioned how she had an early class the next day, so I got dressed and left, taking the steps down her apartment sidewalk as well as the first steps into a depression that I worried would last me the rest of my life.

To make matters worse, Tamara was apparently done being kind, and thought it was okay to tell some of her girlfriends about my woeful smallness. I guess they thought it was pretty funny, and word spread quickly around campus that I had a tiny penis.

You might think I would have been able to find someone who hadn’t heard the story, and maybe convince her to go out with me, but you’d be wrong. I didn’t have a single date in college after Tamara, and the only sex I got to have was with my own hand.

When I graduated, I decided to move as far away as I could to where no one would have heard about my size deficiency, but I was still traumatized.

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