New Recruits to the Wife Life by Maryanne Peters

I never thought of my son William as gay, he was just inadequate.  I knew it because we talked.  I was always close to my boys – closer than most fathers, I think.  We all shared the same problem – congenital microphallus, so I guess it comes from me.  We all had hopelessly small penises.

I was able to cope with it when my wife was sympathetic, which she was when William was conceived.  But after he was born sex became even harder.  Brent was conceived from my sperm in a turkey baster.  Because it was clear even at only three, that William had my problem, we hoped for a girl.

My wife left me for somebody with a real penis.  The boys went with her initially, but her new man never came to grips with how my sons were, and even their own mother despaired of them.  They cam back to live with me.  Even with them back she was still claiming personal alimony.

William and Brent dealt with our collective problem in very different ways.  Will concentrated on his studies and simply rejected sex.  He made it to college, which was something I was not smart enough for, and worked towards his degree.

Brent chased girls.  He flirted with them, chatted them up, dated them, and dumped them before they could discover his secret.  He said that maybe the right one would come along, the way it had for me.  But he knew that his own mother had eventually cast me aside, and to some extent she had done the same to him.

Penis size does matter.

When William came back from college six years ago, Brent and I were about as low as you can get.  My employer had just gone out of business and one of Brent’s girls had gone too far and discovered his secret.  The whole school now knew and all the girls he was going with dropped him like a hot brick.  The shame was so crippling for him that he had no choice but to drop out.  Brent and I were sitting at home, sorry for ourselves.

Then into our house strolls Whitney.  That is the name William was going by then, and she still does.  She just glided in as if she was the happiest person in the whole world.  We could see who she was, or rather who she had once been.

“This is me now,” she chirped.  “I have found the perfect partner.  Somebody who not only doesn’t care that I have a tiny dick, but who positively adores it being so little.  It is just that he happens to be a guy.  A guy who likes girls with little dicks.  Girls just like me.”

Of course it was a shock.  No man is ready for his son to walk back into his house as a daughter.  Maybe I would have been disgusted or angry, but I was so depressed and Whitney was just so happy.

“My guy Paul says that there are plenty of guys who like people just like me … just like us.  Maybe you should follow my example.”  Whitney was doing her best to cheer up her family.

“You take a guy up your ass?!”  Brent was blunt as usual.

“You should try it, little brother,” said Whitney.  “Rather than tugging on that little crotch nipple, you will find that a handless orgasm it a wonderful thing, probably because you are not getting it on your own.”

On my own.  That was what I was, and Brent now too.  I missed physical intimacy.  I am not taking about hiring a whore and having her snigger at my tiny erection and set about making me cum, I am talking about a lasting relation between two people who are physically attracted to one another.  Whitney had found a way to get that.  It just required that he become a she.

And she was definitely a she.  That was six years ago, so her fair hair was not as long or as blond, and her breasts nourished by the early effects of hormones, were not as big as the are now.  But she was very attractive.  We were all three of us slight of build, fine features and, of course, poorly endowed.

“Paul looks after me,” said Whitney.  “He wants me to be his wife.  Will you be mother of the bride, Dad?  Will you be my bridesmaid, Bro?”

It sounded crazy, but I figured: What do I have to lose?

Now here we are.  Look at us.  We are all married now.  Whitney and Paul have two adopted children.  Boys without the curse of our family’s genetics.  Bella, as she now is, has been married to Hal for a year, and they are talking about kids too.  And I married Paul’s uncle Mark, and I have found my true vocation – wife.

And at last, I have somebody who loves my body.  It is a different body now after six years of hormones.  I have curves and breasts, and soft skin and hair, but I still have a small penis.  It is nutless now, but Mark delights in twiddling it, and I love having it twiddled.

Even people like us can find intimacy, if we are prepared to change.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2020