Britney's turn

Britney stood eye-to-eye with Steve, a challenging smirk playing on her lips. Behind them, Emily—her curvy figure emphasized by the tight uniform—clapped her hands together, her large breasts jiggling with enthusiasm.

“Alright, time for the next comparison, hun,” Emily chirped, checking the measuring tape she held. “Let’s get Britney’s soft length on the board. You have to measure her now, Steve.”

Steve swallowed hard, his own small, dark penis bouncing slightly against his thigh—a mere shadow compared to the promise of what lay beneath Britney’s uniform. He took a hesitant step forward, unsure where to even begin this task.

Before he could fumble for the measuring tape, Britney took charge. Her hand shot out, grasping the top of Steve's head with gentle firmness, and she pushed him down. Steve found himself instantly on his knees, staring up at her. He was still rock-hard, fueled by the sheer terror and arousal of the situation.

Britney grinned, looking down on the man whose wife she knew so intimately. “What are you shy now, sport? After I sucked your little pee-pee last time, I thought you’d be eager for a peek.”

The playful mockery was delivered with an almost musical British lilt. She leaned back, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her short blue skirt and rolling the hem upwards. It folded over to just below her hips, exposing a pair of tight, hot-pink cotton panties.

The fabric was stretched taut, already straining under the immense, heavy shadow of her flaccid penis. The sheer density of the bulge was breathtaking, a massive, drooping weight that seemed impossible to contain.

Steve’s eyes widened, his resolve faltering. He gripped the measuring tape white-knuckled, still hesitating to reach out and touch the monumental tool.

A sudden warmth pressed into his back as Emily moved directly behind him. Her massive, soft breasts squished against his spine through the thin cotton of his uniform top. She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear, whispering a command that was both tender and utterly demanding.

“Go on, touch it, honey. Touch the tool that has made me come so many times.”

That was the final push. Driven by his wife’s whispered instruction, Steve lunged forward, his shaky hands reaching for the hem of the pink panties.

Britney crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at him with a triumphant, feline smile.

With a final, decisive tug, Steve pulled the panties down past her thighs. The hot-pink barrier disappeared, and the sheer, staggering reality of Britney's cock dropped into view.

Thump.

It didn't just hang; it dangled, swinging heavily between her thighs, reaching down almost to her knees. It was a giant, flaccid mass of flesh—coke can thick, heavily veined, and utterly enormous. Steve recoiled, kneeling back on his heels in simple, stunned awe.

The head was circumcised, a deep, healthy pink color, slightly flared, giving it an almost flower-like appearance. Despite its raw size, there was a strange, almost clean, feminine scent to it—a faint aroma of powder and light perfume mixed with arousal. A feminine cock, Steve thought distantly, realizing he’d never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying.

Britney snapped him out of his trance by giving her hips a sharp shake. Her massive cock slapped from one inner thigh to the other, making a dull, fleshy sound.

“Come on, Steve, we have a night of events planned, and I want time to enjoy my prize if I win,” she said, her smile widening.

Steve reached forward, stammering for a moment. There was just so much of it. His brain struggled to process where to grip the damn thing. He didn’t want to insult her, but his hand simply wasn't built to cradle a weapon of this magnitude.

He settled for grabbing the mid-portion, tentatively holding the heavy cock up. Gravity immediately pulled the thick, pink tip downward from where he held it.

God, it’s huge. Thick. Really heavy. The veins are like ropes, Steve thought, his mind racing. He tried to wrap his thumb and forefinger around it, only to find his hand couldn't even close halfway.

Britney watched his struggle, a triumphant glow in her eyes. “How does it feel to actually hold a real cock, Steve?” she asked softly.

Emily giggled from behind them, a warm, throaty sound.

“Okay, big guy,” Emily called out, slapping Britney’s thigh playfully, causing the cock to swing again. “Judgement time. Go on, measure her! We need to know who’s bigger!”

Steve fumbled with the end of the tape measure, trying to steady his hand. He held the metal base firmly against Britney’s groin, right at the root of the shaft. He pulled the tape down, down, following the massive length until the edge met the very tip of the mushroom-shaped head.

The number stared back at him, staggering.

Steve stared for two full seconds, then finally croaked out the reading. "Nine... point one inches."

A triumphant whoop came from Emily, who quickly grabbed a marker and updated the board: Length (Soft): 9.1 inches.

Steve dropped the measuring tape, letting it clatter to the hardwood floor. Nine point one inches soft. Britney’s flaccid length was over twice the size of his own maximum, rock-hard erection. Holy shit, was she big.

Britney merely grinned, looking down at the kneeling man in front of her. “You need to do the girth now, big guy,” she reminded him, her voice dripping with irony.

Steve swallowed, retrieving the tape. This was going to be even worse. He wrapped the measuring tape around the mid-portion of the shaft, pulling it snug against the mountainous curve. He had to use two hands just to keep the tape even.

“Umm… six point five inches in girth,” Steve muttered, his voice barely audible.

Emily updated the board instantly: Girth (Soft): 6.5 inches.

Britney paused, tilting her head innocently. “Wait, what was your length size again, dear?”

Emily, ever the eager participant, chimed in, “4.1 inches, Britney. Hard.”

Britney’s grin turned predatory. She didn’t mean to be cruel, but this was a contest, and she was winning.

“Jeez, Steve,” she said, looking down at her prize possession. "My soft penis girth is bigger than your hard penis length. That’s kinda embarrassing, isn't it? I might end up winning this size contest purely on baseline volume."

Steve could only stare, speechless, at the statistical obliteration.

“Okay!” Emily clapped her hands together, her thick body jiggling excitedly. “Time to get her hard, Steve.” She gave him a suggestive wink. “By the way, be careful. It’s a lot to handle when it’s hard.”

The statement hung in the air, a thrilling promise of the impossibility to come. Steve knew that if nine inches soft was this debilitating, he was about to face a truly mythological beast. His task was now clear: to summon the legendary size and girth hidden within the Futa, and then measure its full, uncompromising glory.

Emily's updated white board.

Contestants Steve Britney

Length (Soft) 3.6 inches 9.1 inches

Girth (Soft) 3.2 inches. 6.5 inches

Length (Hard) 4.1 inches TBD

Girth (Hard) 3.6 inches TBD