I’ve always felt average, which has always been fine and I haven’t complained. But then my girlfriend that she would be “willing” to make a short pornographic film starring the two of us, as part of a local amateur film festival. It’s all legitimate, sponsored by a local newspaper.
I’m still not sure if she will chicken out when we get down to it; girls can get funny about their body image, right? Then it occurred to me that men are just as self-conscious about their units as women are about other areas of their bodies. We are not exempt from this. Suddenly, the prospect of my quite ordinary dick being cast on a screen 85 feet long to a cumulative audience in the low thousands did not sound so appealing.
Additionally, we’ve been talking about going to nudist beaches and even trying out a sex club. All of that put a pit in my stomach and made my balls crawl up inside my body.
But really, that aside, it’s a personal thing. After going at this men-women thing for many decades, I fully believe what all those girly mags say: It’s the motion, not the meat. Okay, fine: whatever. But why can’t it be both the motion and the meat?