Unknown: Bea_s pony

I had an opportunity to visit my sister last fall when an oddball assignment took me to Texas. I don't usually like to leave New York in the fall. To my way of thinking it's the nicest time of the year to be in the city, but I accepted anyway, as I had not seen Helen for some time.

My work as a senior editor on the staff of Pet World normally confined me to the office, but occasionally, just to get out and around, I would take a story, especially if it was of an unusual nature.

My sister lived in Irving, a suburb of Dallas on the Fort Worth side, and I had never visited her there before. Helen had lived in New Jersey before her husband was transferred, when we used to visit each other quite regularly. I would spend weekends in Pompton Lakes, and during the week Helen would come into the city and stay at my place overnight.

We had always been close, Helen and I, as close as any two sisters could be, even though Helen was several years older than I, and for a time after she moved to Texas I felt her absence keenly.

At twenty-eight I was still unmarried. Helen had married a year or two out of high school but had never had any children. Her husband, Jack, had been working for years with the same company, one of the big tire concerns, as a salesman.

When I knew I was going to be visiting them, I tried to visualize Jack. He was rather a nondescript type and hard to remember in your mind's eye after you hadn't seen him for a while. He was a pleasant enough person, however, and I was certain that Helen had made a happy marriage in many respects.

Helen was at the airport to meet me when I arrived in Dallas. I first saw her waving madly from behind the little fence separating the visitors from the departure area. She was wearing dark glasses, and had on a light blue cotton dress. She seemed overjoyed that I had come to see her.

"Oh, Bea, I'm so happy you've come. You look grand," she said, kissing me on the cheek.

"Never thought I'd make it to Texas, did you?" I said jokingly.

We stood there just looking at each other for a full thirty seconds, people milling past us. She had gotten a little chubby, I thought, and I wondered how I appeared to her.

Finally, my arm around her waist, I walked her over to the luggage area.

"How's Jack?" I asked.

"Same old Jack," she replied. "He's out of town for a few days. Houston and Galveston. I hope he comes back before you have to leave. How long do you have? You didn't say."

"A couple of days or so," I said. "I have to visit Denton, as you know."

"It isn't far, Bea," she said quickly, "and you can use my car. Maybe I could go with you," she added hopefully, and then rather guardedly, "unless it's some big deal."

"I promise to tell you all," I said, reassuring her with a smile. Close as we were, Helen and I understood I had always been the more reticent one when it came to my private life. Helen, on the other hand, had always confided in me her innermost thoughts and secrets.

My suitcase arrived finally and we walked out through the terminal. Helen drove very fast on the way home. The freeway system looked quite efficiently designed. The city of Dallas, too, had a shiny compactness to it as I observed its skyline.

"Didn't know you had so many tall buildings," I remarked.

"Why, ma'am," she drawled in imitation of a Texas cowpoke, "didn't you all know everything's big in Texas."

We laughed at that, and she told me a slightly dirty joke having to do with big Texans. It put me in mind of what I knew had been a personal problem of hers.

"You still have that thing about Jack?" I asked her after we had been quiet for a few moments. I could see her blush and turn to look out the window to her left. She did not answer, and I dropped it.

It was a sore point, but occasionally she had wanted to talk about it, had even for a while visited a psychiatrist in an effort to overcome her feelings.

It seems that at the time she married she had built up in her mind a mental image of what a man's erect penis should look like. She had visions on her wedding night, I guess of some enormous thing stuffing itself into her, and was fully, in fact, eagerly awaiting to receive such an organ.

As luck would have it, Jack turned out to be a man with a very small one. "No bigger than your index finger," she had told me the first time, scarcely concealing the disappointment in her voice.

She had told me more than once of the times they had had intercourse when she had felt so empty, so "unfilled" as she would describe it. She had loved Jack, and had realized it was silly to let it bother her, and had tried to overlook it.

The doctors had told her it was all in her mind, that the size of the penis had nothing to do with it. Her psychiatrist had once tried hypnosis. For a time Jack had even used a rubber extender while they were having intercourse to fatten and lengthen out his tool, but the extender was a flop, too.

"It doesn't have any blood in it," Helen had told me after it had been tried out a few times. "I know it just isn't alive." After a few drinks she had been able to stand the thing, however, and on those occasions had consented to letting him use it in her.

During our discussions I had always been at a loss as to how to console her. It would have been easy just to agree with the doctors, but in my own heart I knew I would have been lying to my sister. I had been and still am single and had been reluctant to pour out to her what I had known from my own experience.

Also, I had not wanted in any way to have appeared to be criticizing her husband. Sometimes those chickens come home to roost, and I had not wanted to risk alienating my sister then or now.

It was true, though, that the size of a man's penis makes a difference. The medical books and sex manuals were all written by men. Men would naturally pooh-pooh the idea as it had too great a potential for pointing the finger of inadequacy at many of them.

My own experience told me that there can be nothing like the feeling of depth and contentment, of total repletion, on being filled with a healthy-sized organ. And what more marvelous things happen when it moves inside you!

The city of Irving turned out to be a residential community, rather flat like much of Texas, with neat houses and trim yards, and none of the homes looking too terribly old. We pulled up into the driveway of one, and I could hear a dog barking.

"You still have Clyde!" I exclaimed, remembering the tricolored collie they had owned in New Jersey.

For some reason my sister blushed a florid red as she got out her side of the car. "Yes," she said. "Why not?"

"Why, I'll be glad to see him," I said, hopping out. "Good old Clyde!" I ran to the front door and could hear him jumping up against it alternately barking and whining and scratching at the wood.

Helen opened the door, and he bounded out rushing between us. He got to the sidewalk, wheeled around, and came back. He was panting madly, and jumped up, first at Helen, and then at me, sniffing curiously.

"Get down, Clyde!" Helen was shouting.

Sniffing at me, he suddenly froze when it appeared he was in the area of my crotch. He brought his nose closer to my dress, and I backed away instinctively.

"Clyde!" Helen screamed, grabbing him by the fur. "That's enough." It took all her strength to pull him back toward the door, but she seemed determined to get him back inside.

"It's all right, Helen," I said, feeling a little guilty for having backed off. "He's just happy." I followed them inside the house.

She had taken him to the basement door and had shut him inside. She was huffing, out of breath. "He can be so exuberant, Bea. You'll have to pay no attention to him," she said. Flushing, she dropped her shoulder bag on the sofa and flopped down herself.