Thursday, July 16, 2009

There is such as thing as Too Big

By sash.

...especially when you’re a small Asian chick who does Kegel exercises almost for a living.

Through my many exploits, I have experienced the whole size spectrum. From pinkie-small to porn movie-big. And surprisingly, I find that my tastes stay quite happily within the curve in this area. Maybe at a modest 60th to 70th percentile? Average, really.

I figure, I'm 26 and reasonably tight so any more than a 6.5 inch cock (erect, pre-cold shower/swimming pool/ejaculation) is a waste, right? I guess I'm not exactly when you would call a size snob. Although I reserve the right to change my mind once a baby or two pops out of me, and I need to start wearing thermals to keep my pussy from letting the wind in. Get those rulers out!

Circumference and curvature are a whole different discussion though. I once shagged a guy who called his cock "The G-Spot Penis" because it curved upwards strategically. He had limited technique and an even more limited personality (be ye wary of any man who gives his penis a name and refers to it in the third person - "The G-Spot Penis likes it when you suck him hard") , but I had to admit he had a really good cock.

So how big is too big? A few months ago, my cervix met (collided with, rather) Adam. Adam was a great guy and reasonably unassuming in every way - although come to think of it he had a big nose, so I should have guessed - except when he dropped his pants. Then he became Mr Novelty Dildo. Yea, lucky me. I swear my tonsils constricted at the thought of what was coming their way.

Sex with Adam felt like an eternal pap smear with not enough K-Y. He took at least 5 minutes forcing himself into his condom, all the while manfully tugging and pulling away at himself to retain his erection. When he had finally wrestled the condom on, his cock just bulged and flopped around in all the wrong places. I had never seen anything so alarming. Purple is just not a good colour for cocks. Please somebody just give that man a Trojan Magnum XL, already.

And then, 1-2-3-Brace! He began to shag me in earnest. It started off pretty pleasurably but when he turned me around on all-fours, pulled my hair back and took me roughly from behind, I must have lost a whole layer of soft tissue from my nether-parts. I was going to need medical attention and a prescription for industrial lubricants if it lasted much longer.

But no pain no gain, as they say. I rocked against him as fast and hard as I could. Muscles cramped. Stars swam. Pigs flew. And then it was over. I brought a cold glass of gin-&-tonic into the bathroom and iced myself down. I didn't stay the night. In fact, I never called him back. Yes, superficial me. I stopped seeing Adam because of the size of his knob.

So don't believe everything you hear in the locker-room, boys. I'll be clear about this: I never want to see anything over 9 inches again unless it's stuffed full of pork and I'm eating it with mustard.

But obviously that's just me. I don't see Peter North or P.Diddy having problems with chicks.

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