The Guy with The Smallest Penis Ever to be Seen: Anal Obligatory
After a night of unenthusiastic, effortless, and ultimately antagonistic sex with a now ex-friend, he was exactly what I needed. The guy with the smallest penis ever to be seen. So small he managed to strip the guy formerly known as “the guy with the smallest penis ever to be seen” of his superlative. If I were a bitch, I would name this blog post “smaller than [name of other guy].”
Here I thought I’d seen everything.
I met him at my now ex-friend’s birthday party. He was with a group a friends and danced in front of me to get my attention, waving his hands manically like he was doing some Japanese lightstick bullshit. Then he lifted his shirt up slightly as to indicate something.
I inquired, “Do you have a lightstick in your pants?”
It was a set-up: “What do you think I have in my pants?”
“Um, a penis—hopefully. And maybe a lightstick?”
“I do have a penis in my pants—a small penis in my pants.”
He told me he had a small penis before we hooked up. Before I got him back to my place. Bold. But I mostly thought he was joking because he said it in front of his friends. Had I realized that he was serious, it wouldn’t have meant anything to me, anyway, because that degree of smallness was previously unconceivable to me. He set a whole new standard. And, besides, I probably would have taken it as a challenge: It can’t really be that small.
Yes, yes it can.
I have this new tactic when it comes to snagging guys: I go after short men. No one else wants them so they are desperate, but they are just as cute. As long as they don’t have Napoleon complexes. Psychological damage aside, why not take advantage of a surplus? It isn’t like we are Neanderthals and I need physical protection. I don’t believe in vestigial status symbols.
He was very confident. I liked. We didn’t have much to talk about and I wanted to talk to other people, so I asked him if he wanted to come home with me and if we could adjourn for a while and meet up again when we were ready to leave. When the night started winding down, we reconvened and I told him I was having doubts—not about him specifically, just the prospect of bringing someone home with me that night. He said, “It’s okay, you can reject me.”
And it made me kinda want him. Shortboy can take rejection and isn’t ashamed to try to convince me of his worthiness. Shamelessness. Mmm.
And I really needed a good fucking after the horrible disappointment of the previous night. Albeit a drunken fucking by an almost-midget.