My wake-up call, Lord, too many to count. Had a girl in college say she cheated because I was too small to satisfy, and that was after 7 years with her. She and I gave one another our virginity in high school. Then the next girlfriend was the neighbor. Her roommate dated my brother, who is hung, and she asked me, Isn’t size supposed to be genetic? But we dated almost two years, had sex every day (literally, I almost flunked out of college and she ~did~ flunk out). She was also a virgin, my only two.
After that a pretty good spell went by, and I sort of wondered about it every time my brother went on and on and on and on and on and on and on about his pecker, showing it to everyone and sticking it in virgins (called himself The Virginator), but I saw his girls, and I was pretty unimpressed. I’m picky. He’s not.
I had one more girlfriend, still no PE, then married my fourth. No complaints from the third or fourth, that I heard, though my first wife was four-fingers wide. I used to have to go down on her to get her going, then it was like sticking it in a glass of warm water. She’d crawl on top and grind out another one, and that was about the only way we could make it go. I sort of thought about PE, but honestly, that was some great sex. We made it work.
Then we divorced and I stuck that thing into anything warm and soft. I lost count, lots of one-nighters (never did that) and few-daters (never did that, either). Never had any complaints, but I had a lot of compliments. Nobody mentioned my size, but they’d say things like their pussy loved my cock, or that I tasted great, or they would squeal and I’d worry about the neighbors, stuff like that. I had to bolt my headboard to the wall, no bullshit.
Then I met my now-wife, and she’s a money clip. That girl even after three kids is one or two fingers tight. I’ve been bruised from her. We broke up for a while, and she moved in with this guy who was hung, and she and I stayed friends and I got to be friends with this guy. He talked about his pecker non-stop, and her pussy, which was ironic. I asked her about his pecker one time after we had sex (behind doors we were making up) and she said he was really big. She said he got miffed she had to use her toy, because he wasn’t used to girls needing a toy, and she’s a toy buff. I had her one day after he did (I know, don’t say it) and yeah, she was pretty stretched out. I could tell. But she cinched back up.
Anyway, that was a long time ago, still no PE, then this past summer we’ve been together for 11 years. I’m mid-40s, so I decided to try a few blue pills just for giggles, and damned if I wasn’t 23 again. Holy smokes. I was walking around all day with a boner. Still, no PE, but that got me to thinking about working up better erections, because I realized that while I still have good quality, it is not 100%. You get used to it, I guess, like your own scent. So I started researching and ponderizing that maybe I should do some work on Vin Diesel (that’s what we call him, because they are twins).
And I got to asking my wife about meds, more Viagra or whatnot, and that turned to penis enlargement. She held up her hands. Oh no, she said, if you were any bigger, sex would be out of the question. You already bottom out. No no no.
Damn that felt good, and damned if I didn’t fuck it up by asking, Are you saying I have a big pecker?
What? She said. There’s that brow wrinkle and chin tilt, and she says, You do ~not~ have a big dick.
And ladies and gentlemen, after half a lifetime making do with average johnny, that set me off. I’m gonna make her to eat those words one day.