The Big Lie
The most effective piece of propaganda sold to us is that Big Dick is King. I can’t shout this from enough mountain tops. People who rant and rage against body shaming will still often have no problem making a small dick joke. Where did this even come from and why do we believe it? I had thought before writing this to do a deep dive on the history of how Size Queendom and the vaunted Big Dick Energy entered the chat, but really, at this point, I do not care. I love me some history of human fuckery, but right now I want to undo the damage more than anything else.
I say to my clients all the time that performance anxiety in men is a symptom that society is broken sexually. The only thing in the Universe expected to work at 100% capacity, 100% of the time is the penis. Not only does this beautiful organ that is affected by exhaustion, stress and hydration levels need to be more high performing than a luxury vehicle, but it also has to be BIG!
Not for the first time am I wishing that I could gather data from people who enjoy sexual contact with penises about this. Do you really have a size preference? If so, why? When I lived in southern California, my old coworkers would come to me and tell me about the sex they were having. They would say, “Girl! I had the BEST sex last night!”. I would ask what made it so good, were they attentive, did you orgasm, was it emotionally fulfilling or just a sexy one off? “No, he just had a big cock and it hurt and I am sore today. I didn’t cum, but he nailed me hard.” I was perplexed. It did not feel good, for starters, and I think if it isn’t going to be physically pleasurable, then maybe emotionally fulfilling is also good? I am not one to think that the goal of sex is an orgasm. Cumming with a partner is a nice bonus, but personally I have found if the sex is truly amazing, I really don’t care if I cum or not. Granted, these are the thoughts of a demisexual who wants connection long before my pants ever come off or I reach down them. I eventually learned that it was our geographic proximity to the epicenter of the porn industry that informed this belief that jackhammering by a biggun was the apex sexual experience.
Dick size shaming permeates so many aspects of culture. Even when a discussion is miles away from sexual, if someone really wants to diminish a man, they say his dick is small. Every. Single. Day men come to me absolutely broken over having a penis that is considered less than average length. Many are suicidal. They feel valueless, unheard, unimportant and fundamentally unlovable. Many fetishize the trauma and lean into Small Penis Humiliation, just to get a shred of attention.
It breaks my heart, truly shatters it. People can like what they like, size queens deserve no shame, and neither do those who enjoy SPH, but for the love of all that is unholy, can we please make sure we know our kings are deserving of a crown no matter what size it comes in? I remember the first time a man with a cock no longer than three inches rocked my world.
The whole story was kind of hilarious, really. I was out one night at my favorite dive, The Rhinecliff Hotel. I used to have one of those silly keychains that you could buy at Spencer’s gifts that said, “I have absolutely no excuse for the way I am about to behave”, and boy howdy did that sum up my 20’s and 30’s. I didn’t drink. I wasn’t getting high, but I was wild and a feral animal unchained and uncaged. I lived for the chase and delighted in all things sex. I was a ProDomme by 21, and fearless about getting who or what I wanted. This night in particular at the Rhinecliff was always going to end in hedonistic delight. I saw him across the room. An ex boyfriend who I thought I had parted with far too soon. I flung myself into his arms and kissed him with fervor and heat. I pulled back breathless and looked up and shrieked. Why I thought it was my ex, I have no idea. My ex had black curly hair and was about 5’11”. This man had long blonde hair and was easily 6’4”. I burst into laughter, “who the fuck are you?” His eyes were wide at the 5’3” woman still clutching his hoodie. “Who am I? Who are YOU?”, he was now laughing too. “That’s easy”, I said. “I’m the woman you are going to have sex with tonight!”. I never was one for mincing words.
The energy was hot and spontaneous and crackling in the air. I gave him my number and went back to my friends. I told him I would be home by midnight and if he wanted to come over, he could call me from a payphone for directions. It was 1995 after all, no cell phones or mapquest. If you wanted sex, by golly you had to put in the effort! He did and there he was at my apartment, looking even larger than life in my little bedroom. He wasted exactly zero time. He was big and primal and I was there to match it. He picked me up and tossed me back on the bed. I felt my Dominance Flare, it was fucking go time. I would not submit, neither would he. It was going to be fucking death match style. He ripped off his shirt, his pants, his boxers and I got a full look at him. I half expected I was going to be split open like a log by an epic appendage, but nope. Easily 3” fully erect. I had enough time to think, “Oh how interesting,” before he was on me, then in me, and then making my eyes roll back in my head. We fucked in a way that was less Skinemax and more National Geographic, and it was good. It was raw. It was exactly what I needed that night. The kind of sex that makes you find your power and use it, to burn with passion, to cum so hard you see the face of whatever fucking god you pray to, so thank you Dionysus.
After the sex he told me about his girlfriend and thanked me for the good time. I wished him well and told him I would come see him be Renfield in the play he was performing in. We parted as friends, spent and sweaty. Not for one fucking second did I ruminate on the size of his dick. He used it to perfection. I have noted, after several hundred lovers, that the ones without a genoa salami between their legs are often the most skilled and conscientious lovers. This is not to say I haven’t met a skilled salami but men who think that their big penis is their personality are shown to my door. I am not going to stretch myself physically for those whose can’t stretch me mentally. Have I managed a good time with a big dick? Sure! I am not one to discriminate, but I do know what my body prefers, especially now that I no longer have a cervix. During my hysterectomy, my vaginal canal was shortened a couple of inches, when my cervix was replaced by a vaginal cuff. I can’t take ‘em like I used to, and I didn’t care about it when I could! For the size queens, there are penises aplenty, and the same for women like me who want to enjoy something that isn’t going to make me hobble the next day.
What I try to impress upon men is that for every penis key, there is a vagina lock, if we are being heteronormative. The same sentiment applies for every orientation and combination. I got dildos in all sizes for my strap-on. What you want, you can have, and when you add love or attraction into the mix, sometimes what you thought you wanted doesn’t matter because the intimacy and connection is there. If you still want a specific size, there are ways to enjoy that.
So let this stand as my love letter to those who fall on the west side of the bell curve of cocks. You are beautiful, you are valuable, and you are worthy of love and good sex. Don’t hate yourself and for goodness’ sake don’t punch your own ticket. We as a society need to do better by you. Let size shaming, performance expectations and using dick size as an insult go the way of the dodo. All your penis has to do is feel good when it is touched. You don’t have to be big, you don’t have to be hard, you just have to be honored for where you are at when it is time to receive sexual pleasure. When you are ready to let loose the dogs of dopamine and take it out, love on that thang. Touch yourself the way you want to be touched. No expectation, no pressure, no worry, just feel good. Stand erect in your truth and enjoy yourself in the moment, whatever that looks like. If someone you want to play with cuts you down, that is a them problem, not one for you. They could have had the fuck, but now they deserve only the “fuck off”. I see you, care about you, and believe in you. No matter what size, get it out, and get it feeling good. You deserve it.
