Here's a story I started a while ago. I'd hoped to co-write it with Veronica Devine, but we fell out of touch. "What am I doing here?" Jim thought. "I don't even know if this is the right club. I don't know her name. I don't even know what she looks like, other than she's supposed to have the biggest rack this side of Chelsea Charms." "Might as well have a beer. " Jim thought as walked into the bar. Tall, at a little over 6' 4" and about 200 pounds, and a bit too gangly and long limbs, big hands and big feet. Close cropped blond hair with a bit of gray at the temples that was the only sign he was close to finishing his fourth decade. Wearing jeans, a white t-shirt and long black jacket he walks to the bar and finds a stool with a good view of the dance floor and a good view of the entrance from the mirror behind the bar. "I'll have a Foster's," Jim says to the approaching bartender. "We don't have that on draught, only the big cans. That okay?" "Sure," Jim says reaching for his wallet. "About the same around as me soft," Jim can't help but think as he wraps his fingers around the girth of the 24 ounce can and lifts it to take a drink. Looking around Jim sees the bar is about half full. "I'm too early. It'll be a few hours before the crowd shows up," Jim thinks. It's his first time to this bar, his first time to any bar in this town. He's only been in town for a few months and it's time he got out and met some people outside of work. Moving from the west coast all the way to the east coast after a bad divorce wasn't easy and making friends in your late 30's isn't easy either. As Jim takes a few more drinks and helps himself to some of the pretzels on the bar it dawns on him that he hasn't actually been in that many clubs looking to meet people, looking to pick up women. Ever since word first got around of his endowment in high school, there had been a string of women (and some men) to keep him company. Women, it seemed, always talked and there always seemed to be a new woman wanting to try him "on for size" around every corner. But that was then, this was now. A decade or so of marriage had taken him off the market and the cause of his divorce, the one time source of his greatest confidence, was now seeming like a curse. When he'd first met his wife, she knew all the rumors, but when they'd first slept together she was almost overwhelmed. With an erection that measured a little over 17 inches in length and ten and a half inches in circumference, Jim was used to being overwhelming and actually got off on it. It had always been a very tight fit for his wife, but as time went by the fit got tighter. Impossibly, Jim's cock was still growing. When Jim's erection had grown over three additional inches in length and an extra half inch in circumference by their fifth anniversary, he'd gone to see a urologist at his wife's urging. Jim's urologist was Indian, which turned out to be a good thing, he'd seen this kind of thing before. Sort of. The urologist had told Jim about men back in Indian who tied weights of up to 100 pounds to their cocks and in so doing had stretched their members over several years. Never having tied a 100 pound rock to his cock, Jim didn't quite understand. When the doctor estimated the weight of Jim's cock to be about ten pounds things started to make sense. Gravity pulling on that hour after hour, day after day, year after year could only serve to stretch it. There may be no end to the growing. This news didn't make life any easier at home. Soon there were fights over surgeries and screaming matches about what Jim loved more: his wife or his cock. But Jim could no more have part of his cock cut off than have part of his arm cut off. They'd managed to make it through a few more years, but sometimes the divorce seemed like a forgone conclusion. "That was then, this is now," Jim thinks looking around the bar. The crowd is starting to fill in. There's no shortage of hot women in the club now. Over in the corner is the typical tanned, bleach blonde Barbi with double D implants pushed up and out on display for everyone to drool over. One the dance floor a black woman who's the spitting image of Pam Grier that's grinding her ass into the crotch of some lucky guy. There's even a slinky Asian woman teasing her date by sliding her tongue along the neck of her beer can. Years ago Jim was sure he'd have ended up taking all three of them home and filling their cunts up with more cock than they'd ever dreamed possible. If she didn't show up, Jim would have to take all three home and stretch them out in turn. If they could even take it. These days finding a woman who could take his size, let alone enjoy joy it, was a real challenge. Which is where the busty mystery woman was supposed to fit in. He'd first heard about her from a co-worker a few weeks back who'd been the first to discover Jim's endowment. Jim had gone to great lengths to conceal his endowment at work. Always wearing the most relaxed fit, baggiest, pleated slacks with compression shorts underneath, tucking his shaft down one leg and the grape fruit sized balls down the other and finally covering it all up with the longest sports jackets he could find. And always wearing black, after all, it's slimming. Trips to the bathroom at work always meant going into the stalls, never taking a chance of hauling it out at the urinal and drawing a crowd. Everything worked well enough until the day when the men's room was being refurbished and the stalls were out of order. But when a man's got to go, he's got to go. So Jim had to unzip, pull his slacks down, reach into his shorts, haul it out and stand a foot and a half away from the urinal and relieve himself. Fortunately the restroom was empty. Or not. Just as he was finishing Dan, the guy in the office next door to Jim's, walked in and stopped in his tracks eyes bulging as he gaped at Jim. "Dude, what the fuck is that?" "What the fuck does it look like?" replied Jim. "An elephant's trunk," Dan laughed as he stopped staring and went about taking a piss himself. Jim couldn't help but look, as often as not when a guy saw his cock that guy got hard. Dan was having a little trouble doing his business with a hardon. As fast as he could Jim packed his meat away and zipped up, washed up and headed out of his office. Knowing that now the cat was out of the bag, it was just a matter of time before Dan stopped by his office. Sure enough a few hours later Dan stopped by asking all sorts of questions. "How big is it?" "Soft or hard?" "Soft." "19 and 3/4 inches long and 10 and 1/4 inches around." "Hard?" "Bigger, a lot bigger." "Can it fit inside a woman?" "Yes, but most women won't even try." And so on and so on. Surprisingly Jim actually enjoyed talking about his cock. It was like the old days where he'd loved bragging about his size, stamina and sexual prowess. Maybe all this trying to hide it had been a mistake. Dan seemed like a decent guy and didn't freak out about it, well at least not as much as some guys. The range of reactions of guys always astounded Jim, from awe and worship to jealousy, rage and hate. Dan was definitely on the awe and worship size, but wasn't overdoing it. Dan mentioned he'd heard that one of the women a few floors up was supposed to be a size queen, but Jim wasn't up for interoffice fucking yet. Still Dan talked her up, a young Latina with big tits and a hot ass, Delfina who was working in accounts receivable a few floors below. Jim could feel his cock stiffening at the thought of her as he stuffed his thick shaft back into his shorts. Stiff fucking around with a fellow employee was complicated. And that was that, at least for a few weeks. Then Dan came stopped by Jim's office one afternoon to tell Jim all about a woman who loved huge cocks, and by huge he meant like horses. "Literally dude, I heard she won't even look at a guy if he's not over a foot and she's dating a guy who's close to two feet long," Dan told Jim. "And she's stacked like crazy!" Jim had to admit that he was intrigued. He had a weakness for busty women and busty size queens were even better. On top of that, if her boyfriend was really that big, then she'd have had a lot of experience with mega-meat and stand a good chance at handling Jim's monster. Unfortunately, Dan didn't know her name, number, e-mail or much of anything else about other than that she was busty as hell and hung out at a club downtown most every weekend. After Dan left Jim couldn't stop thinking about this mystery woman. In fact, he had to lock the door and surf over to his favorite busty women porn site and jack off in the office setting his computer on automatic scroll through pictures of busty porn stars while he stroked his enormous hardon with both hands. Slowly working the full length of it, then grasping the base with one hand, squeezing HARD and pumping the orange sized knob with the other as fast as he could. The idea of this busty size queen was so arousing that within 15 minutes Jim was pumping out a massive load of cum into his garbage can, but it wasn't enough. Even after two more voluminous loads before his hardon would not go down. Jim knew there was only one thing that would help: pussy. With that thought and a huge, throbbing cock Jim picked up the phone and called Delfina. It would be tricky to get the relief he needed, but Jim had seen Delfina around and stuffing her full his fat cock as deep as he could inside her was exactly what he needed.