As I find myself more open to the idea of my wife Bayani being with another man, I find myself leaping more and more hurdles. The most recent, is being insecure about size.
Let’s face it, size does matter. Just not in the way you think it does.
Most surveys show that men rank penis size as far more important than do women. It’s not that women don’t prefer a nice, big throbbing cock over a small limp one. It’s that women tend to be attracted to more than a person’s genitalia. Well, if it’s too small, then that matters. She had better be able to feel it. And I have heard some women claim they have an upper limit as well, some men are just scary big. A good sized cock is required for a good fuck. And how it is used is far, far more important than size.
But why do men care so much about size? I can think of so many more way to compare manliness. How about the ability to father children? Or to provide for them? How about intellectual prowess? Or skill in a trade? And why do we rate penis size as more important than the ability to actually please a woman in Bed? I really have no easy answer to these questions, I can only speak about my own thoughts and insecurities.
I never really cared much about how I compare to other men. I mean, I had what I had and there was nothing I could do about it. I was far more concerned with my ability to please a woman than the size of my penis. Besides, I had measured and knew I was firmly(no pun intended) at the top of the ‘average’ end of the scale(yes, all men measure)
Then Fanny came around.
After the on of the first times with Fanny, while she was laying there in a daze, panting and trying to collect her thoughts, she exclaimed ‘Boy, you got some girth on you!’
Yes Ma’am! I sure do, I thought, grinning proudly.
Crap. I suddenly found myself proud of my cock. I cared about size. I wanted to tell people I had girth. I did, in fact, tell people. At a party, I got drunk and the other guys were bragging, so I joined in and told my Fanny-Girth story. It felt good to brag, and to know I was not exaggerating.
Fine, that is just part of being a male, I can accept that part of me and move on. I can be proud of what I have without really caring if random dudes are bigger than I.
But now Bayani and I are talking about her being with other men. I’ve not had to push that comfort-zone yet, as Bayani still has her One Penis Policy. But what if I do?
Will I care if he is bigger than I? Or better than I?
Will I want to know?
Yes, I decided, I would want to know. If it’s a one time thing, a one-night stand, then I don’t need to know many details: Only if it was good or not, if the reality lived up to the fantasy. I certainly hope so. He had better be hung like a horse or be able to lick his own eye-brows. If she is going to fuck somebody else, it had better be fucking fantastic, or what is the point? Hell, if I ever have sex with a girl I am not sharing with Bayani, I want it to be spectacular, so why would I want it to be less so for her?
And what if I know the guy? What if it’s little Tiberius or Alexander? What if she finds some other guy to start a lasting secondary relationship with(one I would at least want to meet)? Would I still want to know? Again, yes. In this case, I hope they give as good as they get. Again, if she is going to fuck somebody else, it had better be mind-blowingly good.
Will I be jealous? I don’t think so. I mean, in the end, I win. I get to go to bed with her every night. I get to spoon with her. And I get to fuck her any time I want. I get to spank her, and pull her hair, and stick it up her ass until she screams with pleasure. And I know how she wants it. No matter how hung that other guy is, he can’t compete with eighteen years of experience.
And then there is Fanny. Let me tell you something about Fanny: She has great tits. I mean, they are spectacular. They are one of the greatest sets of tits on the planet. Triple D’s, and they defy gravity. No, really, when I take of her bra(which has more engineering than went into the Brooklyn Bridge), they sag less than an inch. Sometimes I put the bra back on, just so I can take it off again to marvel at them. I love Fanny, and I love her tits, it’s like there are two relationships there.
And yet, no matter how fucking spectacular they are, when I put my hands on Bayani’s boobs, it never fails to arouse me. I love how her tits feel; how they react to my touch, how her nipples harden under my palms. I fucking love Bayani’s tits. It does not matter how big or firm Fanny’s are, that does not affect how much I love Bayani’s. And if I had to choose one set of boobs to play with for the rest of my life, I choose Bayani’s without hesitation. Because they are attached to her. And they really are quite spectacular on their own.
So by the same logic, if Alexander has a fat twelve inches of man-meat, why would Bayani enjoy my six any less? Well, other than the missing six inches. I’ll just have to make it up to her by fucking her twice.
bayanni
Myrddwn
coffeehousetramps.wordpress.com 
I dated a girl once who told me, “Give me ten inches and make it hurt!” So I fucked her twice and hit her in the head with a brick.
Yeah, it’s an old joke, but that was where I was going with it…
http://dodsonandross.com/blogs/carlin-ross/2011/03/finally-documentary-penis-size
Ah, see, now there is someone talking about why we seem to think that size matters.
That is a nice addition to my post on my own feelings.
Thank you dG!
I just watched that documentary, after posting the link here. It was on my watch-when-I-have time list, and I just had it on as I did some chores, since I posted it without previewing! It was interesting to hear an hour about penises, though it was fairly heteronormative. I wonder how the culture around dicks is or isn’t different among gay or bi male populations.
I can’t pretend to have any inkling of what it must be like to give thought or energy to something that is (mostly) unchangeable. I wonder about the “inherent worth” aspect that this dick-size question may bring up for men who think about it. I don’t know.
I doubt my own feelings about my body provide a parallel for my personal understanding, since I have this sense of being able to change my body, if not fundamentally, at least to a discernible, albeit perhaps small, degree.
Anyway. It’s fascinating to me, thinking about penises. Maybe because I’ve now gone several years without being intimate with a penis, and they feel sort of . . . far away.
dG, what about breast size? that’s not something that can be much changed except for surgery. yes, I know that breasts change a bit with weight loss or gain, but they always (at least for me) seem to be the same size relative to my body. And our culture puts such emphasis on the size of a woman’s breasts.
Yeah, I realize that’s a parallel, just not one that I relate to personally. I’ve never given a lot of thought to my breasts, and it was only on the last weight-gain cycle when I ended up a DD that I paid much attention to my tits. Only recently have I noticed that my chest gets attention, if I wear a well-fitting bra,
I’ve heard lots of lamenting from some of my itty-bitty friends, and I realize that large and extra-large come with benefits and drawbacks . . . it’s just not anything I have given much thought to myself, maybe in part because I fluctuate between a B and a DD, depending on my overall weight, so in my own body it feels malleable (though I realize it’s not the case for all women).
But for women, breasts are obvious. You wear them right out there on your chest for all to see. Unless you try to deliberately hide them. It is easy to see if you have an A or a DDD. Noticing them, having them noticed and drooled upon and judged is a regular occurrence. For men, our penises are hidden. For the most part you can’t tell how big it is, or if it is limp or throbbing and eagerly straining for your so deliciously displayed breasts.
And boobs are a good parallel to the discussion on penis size. If they are small, women usually receive less attention from me. And if they are too big, they receive too much attention, which can often be negative. You females are judged by your breasts.
The fact that they can be seen, where our body part can not, leads to an interesting social psychology. If men carried our penises on our foreheads, it would be a very different world indeed.
it would certain make Unicorn myths that much more obvious…
So, I stumbled onto a site that claimed to end the Great Penis Size Debate once and for all.
They had a chart, showing supposedly what the ‘ideal’ size was, and according to that chart the perfect size ‘according to women’ was eight to nine inches long with about an eight inch circumference. Erm, that’s huge. Remember that the average erect penis is between five and half to six inches. I doubt that women evolved to desire larger than average penises. Then I found two illuminating pieces of information on that sight. One, that chart was based on women’s responses. Women who have been told ‘oh yeah baby, I got nine inches!’. And second, that site belonged to a Penis Enlargement Pill company. Yeah, I trust those figures.
This does bring to mind the old joke about why don’t women make good carpenters? Because their whole lives they’ve been told that this(hold fingers six inches apart) is nine inches.
And according to another site, most women buy sex toys in the four to six inch range, which would indicate they find that size the most enjoyable.
Or I might just be trying to convince myself my six inches is perfect.
I recently heard the phrase “a grower not a shower” or was that “a shower not a grower”? I’m not sure. I think if I were a man I’d rather be a grower. I don’t think I’d care so much what my flaccid size was as long as I was happy with the ability of my erect cock.
I’m not the most experienced, but it seems like enthusiasm, position, and stamina would be far more important than the size of the instrument.
Ah, but Bayani and Kasini are well adjusted, mature and rational adults who have broken free of their cultural programing!
My first boyfriend had a remarkably small penis. Maybe 2″ flaccid, double that erect. It was nice for me, getting used to penetration. Plus, it made him extremely eager to please me orally, manually, and get creative with the intercourse positions. In later sex with men, I actually found the more endowed men to be lazier and less adept or concerned about skill, as if they took for granted it would be “good” since the were hung.
Don’t let the tone of this post trick y’all. Myr is, what was that phrase? Grower not a shower. Doesn’t matter if said imaginary man WAS bigger. I love Myr, I love Myr’s cock. It is now and will always be my favorite cock. Just like he feels about my boobs.