The same mature content warning applies. Part I of II is here.
There’s going to be explicit personal sexual information, so anyone who doesn’t want to see it, should skip this post. …so if you know me in real life, you can skip this post. Names and details are changed some to protect privacy.
Well, it’s like I said, I was enjoying life at the time. I had no real complaints. Despite having to expend more energy and cunning than white players of the dating game, I got where I wanted to be by playing to my strengths. Rightly or not, if my outward appearance would be deemed racially undesirable, then I needed a different way to meet women – something that allowed me to be funny, attentive, and to connect through words and experience.
I found that through pursuing my own learning and new experiences and encountering women who shared similar interests. This was especially true in subcultures and countercultures which are replete with people who have already rejected social norms in one way or another.
At the time of the third growth spurt (I would later learn that this was technically not a growth spurt but an adjustment of sorts.) I was in a relationship with a woman who was bright and assertive usually, but was adorably compliant in the bedroom. (Every couple has a unique sexual dynamic, and that’s where ours happened to be.). I think she enjoyed the extra bit of sexual aggressiveness from me. Besides, is it not the woman who holds the power here? To experience her own desirability by eliciting, at her will, an uncontrollable masculine desire for her, to make a man hard for her & to stir a raw hunger within him for her sex.
Again, in our particular dynamic, she wanted me to… dictate the shots. From time to time, if she was walking around the house looking especially sexy, I would walk over to kiss her, turn her around, bend her over a table or couch, and fuck her until her orgasms were slurring her speech – panties still on, pushed over to the side. She’d feign surprise. She’d express shock. But she smiled the whole time doing it.
This most recent growth in my dick, which was not that long ago, took place in one week! Mother nature left me a little bit sore, but one morning after I had recovered from both some illness and the size adjustments, I noticed it. I was in the shower, doing my thing, and the sensation was different. Something was noticeably different. Every man knows the feel of his cock, and when I was touching myslf, I could tell something was off. Hmm…. it feels a lot heavier. And in my hand…. “Yeah, wow, that’s thicker alright. What in the hell??”
In disbelief, I get out of the shower, barely towel off, and find a measuring tape. Of course I did, I’m a guy. It was boy-Christmas. I was shocked by an extra inch or more in length and my new heft. yes, I liked it a lot! It looked good against my stomach, I liked the way I looked in the mirror, I was more sensitive, and it just looked impressive.
I called my then-girlfriend up on the phone,
“Baby, I got a surprise for you. Do you feel like company?”
She came over after work, and I didn’t say a word. As soon as the door opened, I pulled her inside. I gave her a few deep kisses, and then I led her by the elbow to the edge of the table. She grinned at me before removing just her bottoms and bending over. I got on my knees and kissed her from her knees upward, eventually working my way to her wetness. I find women are divided on tonguing, but I love it, so I did that from behind for awhile before standing up. I was already turned on, so I put myself inside her just a little bit. She felt the difference right off, turning to look back at me in surprise.
“Eyes forward,” I said, matter of factly, pushing myself into her slightly more,
She blushed and turned to face forward. She put her hips in a slow, shallow rhythm, each time pushing for more penetration, each time finding another inch. Her moans turned into full on gasps and grunts, and within minutes she was leaving a layer of her own cum all over me. There wasn’t a whole lot of conversation. From her, it was mostly what sounded like a monologue with the creator. Several orgasms later, we settled into the soft couch together. She asked and I explained…
“It just happened. I have no clue. It’s fuckin’ boy-Christmas today.”
She paused a moment before disagreeing shyly,
“No,” she said, “it’s girl-Christmas.”
…and that’s the story of my penis. I hope it wasn’t too long.