Its the only one they have, remember that.

It’s the only one they have, remember that.

I keep telling myself that it’s the only one they have whenever men send me pictures of their penis. I mean, are you serious? THAT is not a penis. You really, really have got to be kidding me. My youngest nephew (who is 8 months) has a bigger penis. I mean, did you not realize that if you were ever naked around me, I wouldn’t see it? OMG. Some of the pictures are just gross. I mean, seriously, have you ever heard of grooming down there? it doesn’t take much. It’s not as if you are using pruning shears, but cut that bush down? I have pictures where guys won’t even take the time to wipe the toilet paper off their crotch. Really? Seriously? And how about washing it BEFORE you take a picture of it? there is nothing appealing about looking at a picture of a dick that dirty, foul looking and probably smells.

So yes, as you are probably wondering men do send me pictures of their dick as part of their dating ritual. Most times I just laugh and tell my friend M to go to my inbox and take a peek. I typically don’t respond to dick pictures, only because I specifically say in my profile I do NOT want a picture of your dick. Of course, some guys can’t read and just gloss over the profile. Okay, then I’m going to ‘gloss’ over your email. No harm, no foul.

Then I get the pictures where the guys are placing objects against their penis to prove it’s ‘big enough’. Considering the fact that I can’t really get a good frame of reference outside of a damn ruler, NO its not big enough.

I have a rule: I cannot get naked for less than 8 inches

Rules are rules. Linda Evangelista stated she couldn’t get out of bed to model for under $10,000, why can’t I NOT get into bed for less than 8 inches. And of course, some brother out there is thinking, I have over 8 inches. Here is my response. Unless you have placed a ruler under your dick, ROCK HARD and it goes past the 8 inch line, you dear sir, do not have 8 inches. And don’t cheat by placing the ruler under your balls. And pushing the ruler into the base of your penis to get 8 inches isn’t going to change my decision either. Now, I will go on the record as saying I’ve had less than 8 inches, which is why the 8 inch rule was put into place. This is not a charity I’m running here. I just can’t be having sex all willy-nilly with 5 to 6 inches. Who the hell is going to feel that? You can’t blow my back out with 5 inches unless you have a shotgun. By that same token, I’ve had my feelings hurt BADLY be someone who had over 8 inches. Greg was in the U.S. Army when we met. He is only 5’9 (yes only) but he’s holding a baseball bat down there. he was crushing on me something terrible, I thought it was sweet. When he eventually picked me up and took me to his house to hang out, I thought okay, he’s probably got 5 inches, maybe 6 if you are lucky. I sat on the bed as he got undressed. When he dropped his pants, I was like, huh? And started rubbing my eyes. It wasn’t even hard yet. The imprint from the boxer shorts made my ovaries leap into my kidneys.

Oh hell naw

was the first thing out my mouth before I covered it with my hand. He looked at me strangely and said “are you okay”. As Henry didn’t raise no punks, I shook it off and say with as much bass as I could get it my voice

“no I’m good”

He continues to take off his clothes and I’m thinking, there is NO WAY IN HELL that’s going inside of me.  He’s looking at me like, “Um, you gonna get naked”. I’m thinking HELL NAW I’m not getting naked. Eventually, he’s like, you’re going to keep some of your clothes on? I’m like, No, I’m keeping all my clothes on. He’s like huh? Dude, seriously. I can’t fuck that. While I only made it to pre-calculus, I know enough math to know that 12 inches doesn’t go into 4 inches. He looked at me as if I had 3 heads. He reached down and grabbed his dick. He then looked at me with a straight face and said, “it’s not that big”. I guess the incredulous look I gave him made him pause. “Unless the women who you have previously fucked were fucking horses, elephants and whales, those bitches lied to you.”

It took him an hour to convince me not have him take me home, then another hour to convince to have sex, and then only after 4 shots of Jack Daniels and 2 shots of tequila. It actually wasn’t that bad. I guess with all that in your pants, you learn not to hurt someone. We only did it a couple of times after that, just because it took me days to recuperate afterwards and a blowjob was out of the question. I told him the first time I tried, “I’m not a pit bull, and my mouth does not have hinge.,” he was okay with me not doing that (really, what was he going to say) and to this day, we still speak. No, we don’t have sex but we are still friendly.

I try to learn from every friendship I have and every encounter. Greg taught me that 1) I wasn’t no punk 2) be careful what you wish for, because you might not be able to fuck it.

 

While Greg seriously scared the hell out of me, I realized that I could make it really work, if I really tried hard enough and had enough lube. I’ve been with guys were much, much shorter than Greg, but they were every skilled in other areas that made up for it. At this point in my life however, I’m looking for the total package: in bed anyhow. I want a guy who has length, girth, stamina, prowess, charm, intelligence, grace, a sexy voice, banging body and smart enough to do exactly what I want him to do.

Yea I know, that’s too much to ask.

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