Inch By Inch

Men and magazines still seem to ask the age old question: "Does size really matter?" Women, however have been answering that question, just not to a small guy's face. Some say it is the "motion of the ocean" or "how they use it" that matters. I say if you can't tell that something is inside of you and the foreplay lacks excitement because you know the finale will fall short any and all expectations- then you might as well stay home, alone.



I was spoiled early on and didn't know small until I crossed paths with these three gentlemen:

I'm So Excited, Can't You Tell?

I somehow ended up dating the total opposite of my type. He was a “fashion photographer" who really somehow also worked in the porn website industry (to my credit, I did not find this out until much later). We dated for a few months, but were never intimate in any way, especially after I learned the horrible truth. With most men in my past, when they would become aroused I could see a shape begin to grow down their leg. It was like a mole tunnel popping up and running along the sand. So one day when Sam embraced me from behind, kissed my neck, and said "I'm so excited, can't you tell?" I swallowed and was suddenly caught off guard in silence. I just stood there wondering what was wrong because the answer screaming through my brain was "NO!!!” I reached my hand behind me and fumbled across his rough distressed denim like a blind man trying to find the right direction. Where was it?? I was concerned. Does he tuck it somewhere? He was telling me he is excited, but I couldn't see or feel anything! We moved to the bedroom and I unbuttoned his pants like an archeologist digging up fossils. I was cautious and inquisitive, then almost burst out laughing (nervous laughter as it clearly was not funny). I am not exaggerating in anyway that when fully hard, he could not have been more than 3 inches. At that point I had lost my 'hard on'. I was "suddenly just exhausted" and rolled over to sleep... though I did not fall asleep for hours.

The next day I was still trying to digest what I had just experienced when I get the phone call no woman wants to get and no man should ever make. It was Sam. He said that he was concerned because I didn't respond to "I'm so excited, can't you tell?" and wanted to know "Am I big enough for you?" I almost choked on the air at this whiny question. Words became scattered like those phrase magnets that some people keep on the refrigerator door. My silence only provoked him to go into the entire process of a penis enlargement operation, also called a penile enhancement, as he clearly has the brochure! He said that he had been looking into it for the past couple of years. I wanted to put the phone down, run outside, and fall to the ground laughing. Instead I stood there as stiff as wood, unable to even move my jaw. What man would ever say this to a woman he wants to be romantic with, especially to a size queen like me??!!

I couldn't say what I really thought as it would crush this man for life, so I tried the safest answer I knew: "It's your body, so that really has to be your decision to make". This time the silence came from his end. Apparently, the only acceptable answer to the question was "No baby, your size is perfect!”



The Flicker of a Switch

Again, I somehow ended up in a relationship with a man who is not my type (don't worry I have realized that this pattern usually springs from boredom) He was thin, pale, and a CPA. We had actually been dating for a while, but I can't seem to remember why... One night, I stayed over and was horrified when things became serious and it was revealed for the first time. I think I now know what a young boy's penis must look like. The thought still makes me nauseous to this day. Being a good sport, I tried to touch it, but I could only use the tips of my fingers (the best comparison would be gripping a Crayola marker). Yes, it was that thin and small!! I was curious to see what he could do with it. Well, I didn't know it really was possible, but I couldn't feel anything. I blocked most of the experience because it was so horrifying. It was like a child poking me. I really felt like something was terribly wrong and dirty about the whole experience. The next night, out of habit, I found myself at his apartment again. I can distinctively remember this image: I was lying on his old plaid comforter while he was in the bathroom. He had set the mood with candles around the room. I stared at the ceiling in the darkness when suddenly I focused on this shadow that was projected on the wall from the flicker of the bedside candle's flame. It was from a pencil that he kept in a cup on the bedside table. In the candle's shadow, it was magnified to look like this pointing thin penis shape that was making a poking motion as the flame danced around. Initially, I text a friend laughing about it, but then anxiety washed over me as I kept watching this thin shadow poke the wall. Realizing I could never face it again, I jumped up, told him I wasn't feeling well, and ended things the next day.



No Excuse

Bill was extremely tall, 6'7+, dark hair, and a little too "Charlie Brown" as one acquaintance pointed out. We had finally reached a level of intimacy where we would cuddle and watch movies on his bed. One night I decided to stay over, but still be prudish and stay fully clothed and just cuddle. Before I knew it he was taking off his pants, and then tightly whities as I playfully chose not to watch or be interested. I was able to sneak a peek with a sly smile on my face, as I imagined what it must look like considering his height and proportions. My smile quickly fell flat as I had to do a double take to make sure my eyes were not playing tricks on me. Hard he didn't even measure up to an average guy. It seemed to get lost on his large frame. My mind turned into one of those old TV shows when something was wrong and the red cop lights start flashing. I needed that emergency red phone or a bat signal to have someone rescue me from the moment. I couldn't think of anything to say. I suddenly felt trapped in his bed as I searched for any excuse to send me home. I couldn't think of anything but "I have to go home". He was in the heat of his own moment and I just ended it like a match to water. He was confused, I was bitchy, and the relationship dragged out for another week until he said I wasn't the one for him because I wasn't trying to make the relationship work. I looked at him with a smile and said "I'm sorry. Well I think I should go now, but I wish you the best!"



I still haven't found the polite way to say "Your penis is too small."



*aries*