A Tale Of Two Cocks

I know these cocks. Two wonderful, amazing cocks. Each owns a perfectly average guy.

One cock, let’s call him S, owns a 5’9″ Italian guy with a cheeky smile and a dad bod.

The other cock, B, owns a wiry 6’1″ Latino man with a slouch, a shock of dark hair and a twinkle in his eye.

Their people are very different. S enjoys hiking all over the world, eschews carbs and alcohol (mostly), while B is a bit anti-social and loves nothing more than playing guitar, smoking “hippy lettuce,” and drinking vodka.

And both cocks LOVE sex.

Like, a lot.

S is about 7″ long, of average thickness, and can be a bit shy around more than one woman at a time (although he’s getting over that!).

B is 9″ long, about 7″ around, and gets hard when the fan blows him. Even in awkward situations.

S is detail oriented, agile. Seems to bend and twist to hit all the most amazing spots with stamina to make Lance Armstrong proud. He’s willing (and able) to work hours at a time to get the job done, and is always happy to please. He has honed his skills to the point of earning his person the nickname, “Mr. AwesomeFucker.”

B is, well, big. He’ll fill you up. And frankly, that’s pretty much enough for him. Finesse is lost when you’re a pound of sausage squeezed into a 4 ounce casing, if you know what I mean…

So, B and his guy really just lay there. Because they’re careful about hurting people—it’s happened before. They let others take the lead, and follow where they can.

In the overall fuckery department S and B are very different cocks and in the personality department are very different people. In daily life, neither stands out from the crowd in any great way. They live their lives, following their own passions, and…

Why am I telling you this?

I actually think I forgot for a moment.

*straightens self*

Now, where was I?

Oh yes…

So, who do you think of these two amazing cocks I might love?

Well, I LIKE them both.

But I love someone else entirely. A sweet, charming boy-next-door type with the smallest cock I’ve ever had sex with.

Who gives me the best sex I’ve ever had—and rarely fucks me.

Not because I don’t allow it. But because it’s not his personal forté, nor where he gets the most pleasure. His hands and his mouth are his powerhouse tools, and his wicked, pervy mind drives me insane.

Let me repeat this for those in the back:

I’m in love with the man attached to the SMALLEST cock I’ve ever had sex with.

You get that?

It’s not about the size of the cock.

It’s not about the skill of the cock.

It’s not about how handsome he is.

It’s not about his material success.

It’s about how he makes me feel. The effort he puts in. The fact that he pays attention and uses what he learns to offer me more, to be more for me than anyone ever has before.

He makes the most of what he has, who he is. He strives to be an amazing lover and friend. And he succeeds.

And well, if I need a big cock, they are not hard to find.

And we have an amazing collection of strap-ons.

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