The curious shapes and sizes of men.

Most discussions inspired by fermented grapes and such eventually degrade (dare I say upgrade?) to the topic of sex. Last night was no different, as the young ladies who graced me with their presence decided to teach me a thing or two about penises. At first, I was miffed, then I considered the likelihood that they have both seen more penises than I have. Also, they’ve certainly held more, tasted more, and so on.

“This guy I was with had one that was huge at the base then tapered down toward the tip.”

“He had a traffic cone penis?”

“Oh my god! You captured it perfectly. Yes!”

“Gosh, I hope it wasn’t orange.”

“No, but it certainly filled me in nicely.”

“Bravo.”

“I bet yours is probably bigger at the base too. I can tell by your hands.”

“What? No, actually mine is pretty uniform in girth from here to yonder. And, what the hell can you tell by my hands, anyway?”

“Hands tell a woman a lot about the man’s penis.”

“Myth.”

“Truth.”

“So, because my fingers are tapered, you assume I have a telescopic schlong?”

“I can’t explain it. Let’s just say I know what to expect when I unzip a man by the size and shape of his hands.”

“Right. And I can tell how roast-beefy your vagina lips are from the size of your purse.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“Not any more than a cock-a-nalysis done from my hands.”

“Whatever. I was with this other guy who had tiny hands and stubby fingers. Guess what?”

“He was packing a Mike and Ike sized dinkie doo?”

“Yup. He barely had more than your thumb–erect.”

“You haven’t seen my thumb erect. It’s quite a clit-thumper.”

“His penis erect. Although it was half of what I’m used to, he got me off with no problem whatsoever. You know why?”

“Because he was a senator?”

“No, because it hit my g-spot perfectly.”

“See that? Those extra four inches go to waste unless one happens to be trying to reach that spot from another port of entry.”

“Sick bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

There are all sorts of weenies out there. I concur. We didn’t even delve into the universe of anteater cocks. They are different shapes, sizes, and turgidity. Some point east; some point nor-easterly. Some have curious bends; others have frightening bumps. Naturally, they come in different colors as well. So, I suggest you ladies have it good. Popping that top button and unzipping is kind of like Christmas over and over, every time you’re with a new fellow. Sure, women are unique down there, but not quite so different. I have a good idea about what to expect when I go a-digging. The moisture content varies more than the shape, size, and depth. Yet, I sure do love taking my uniformly-shaped, average-sized, very white penis on mining trips.

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About the author

Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.
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