An SPH Experience by LittleJohn. Hi, my name is John. I am 18 years old and fell in with a bad crowd. I like to gamble and always seemed to lose. I had borrowed money from some of the guys, and they wanted it back. I had two ways out: take a beating from them or help them steal radios from cars. As they were bigger than me, I chose the radios. They told me it would be Friday night.
Read moreBy Our Readers. Our readers share their moments of small dick zen. This reader saw what his wife used to fuck… Since coming out to my wife about wanting her to do SPH on me, we’ve been having some fun with it. I started asking about her exes and how much bigger they were than me, and she always focuses on the guy she was with right before we got together. She’d tell me about how much bigger he
Read moreAn SPH Experience by arabcompare3. I need to set the scene before I get to what happened this morning, because without context it won’t make sense. Without context, it’ll sound like a one-off comment, a bad moment, something that happened and passed. It didn’t pass. It doesn’t pass. Things like this don’t pass when you’re me—when you’re nineteen and living at home, and your mother knows what you’re packing and has known for your entire life and has apparently decided,
Read moreAn SPH Experience by EgonOlsen1925. The lake is about twenty minutes from our house. Not a big lake—not one of those destination lakes with boat ramps and marinas and vacation rentals. Just a local swimming hole, the kind that’s been there forever, with a gravel parking lot and a roped-off swimming area and a small stretch of beach where people spread towels and set up chairs and pretend they’re somewhere more exotic than rural Connecticut. My wife and I go
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Spenhu. We’ve been doing this for a while now—writing together, I mean. Hotpast stories. SPH stories. Posting them on Literotica under a shared account that only we know about. It actually started as her idea. She’d been reading my browser history one night—not snooping, we have an open policy about that kind of thing—and found the folders. The saved forum posts. The measurement comparison sites. The stories about wives telling their husbands they’d had bigger. The
Read moreA Fictional Story by Tonyhammer5450. Tom and Stacy were in their late fifties, a solidly conservative Midwestern couple who’d been married thirty years. Both carried extra weight. Stacy’s body was soft and heavy, dominated by enormous, pendulous breasts and a massive, wide ass that jiggled with every step. Tom’s gut hung over a pubic mound so thick that his penis, when soft, simply vanished into the fat. Basically, he had an innie. When he managed an erection, it reached a
Read moreA Fictional Story by charmer949. HOW IT BEGAN “We need to talk. We can’t keep fucking like this. I have a very small vagina, and your dick is shredding me inside. It hurts.” “Well, it’s not like I’m big; I’m only five inches hard.” “Why do guys always know their dick size?” “We measure it; it’s a lifelong competition.” “If you want to compete for me, you’re gonna have to make your dick smaller.” “How about I just enter the
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Betapinky1. People ask me sometimes—who knows? Who knows about your… situation? And the honest answer is: more people than I’d like. Far more. My girlfriend knows, obviously. She’s the one living with it, the one who has to look down at me during sex and pretend she’s not disappointed. She’s kind about it. Too kind, honestly. She’ll cup my balls and stroke my little three-and-a-half-inch erection and whisper things like “I love how you feel” and
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Eastern_Discount_518. I’ve always been cursed. There’s no other way to put it. Even now, as a grown man, fully hard, I’m barely three and a half inches. That’s it on a good day. Soft, I hang at maybe an inch and a half, and that’s being optimistic. Most of the time it’s just a little nub, barely visible, tucked in against my body like it’s trying not to be noticed. I’ve spent my whole life dodging
Read moreAn SPH Experience by aleem123p. I want to be honest about something before I start, because if I’m not, the rest of this won’t make sense. I’m going to sound like an asshole. Maybe I am one. I don’t think I am—or I don’t want to think I am—but I’ve spent enough time replaying this in my head to know that the way I felt about it wasn’t entirely clean. There was sympathy in there, sure. Real sympathy. But there
Read moreA Fictional Story by Camwhore1. Chapter One: The Arrival Tom stood at the front door, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched the old pickup truck pull into the driveway. His wife Claire stood beside him, her auburn hair pulled back in a casual ponytail, wearing a sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She’d been skeptical when Tom mentioned his uncle was coming to stay for a couple of weeks. “He’s family,” Tom
Read moreA Fictional Story by EgonOlsen1925. I was twenty-two, and I was still a virgin. That fact sat on me like a stone. It sat on me in the way that facts about your body sit on you—heavy, immovable, the kind of thing you carry around and try not to think about but that presses into you at every quiet moment. In the shower. In bed at night. In the locker room. On dates, especially on dates, when the conversation is
Read moreAn SPH Experience by No-Debt-2507. I found her on a site I’d been browsing for weeks, working up the nerve. Her profile pictures were almost intimidating—this gorgeous redhead with a killer body, big tits, wide hips, an ass that looked like it had been sculpted by someone who loved women. Beautiful face too. Green eyes, full lips, freckles across her nose. The kind of woman I’d never approach in a bar because I’d already know how it would end. But
Read moreAn SPH Experience by csp918. We’d been open for a few months by then. She’d hooked up with a handful of guys—nothing crazy, just a couple here and there—but every time, something came up with my schedule: work, family stuff, bad timing. So I’d never actually seen her with another man. I’d heard about it after the fact, lying in bed while she gave me the rundown, and I’d always gotten off on it. But there was this thing I
Read moreAn SPH Experience by shadechris. I need to start with the lie. Not the kind of lie you tell on purpose—the kind you live inside for so long that it stops being a lie and starts being just… what you know, what you’ve always known. The truth you carry around like a card in your wallet, ready to show anyone who asks. I was 17 centimeters—six point seven inches. I’d believed this for years. Since I was a teenager, probably—since
Read moreA Fictional Story by poutymila. He already knew. That’s the part I need to start with, because without that detail, the rest of this story sounds cruel in a way it wasn’t. He already knew he was small. He’d known before I ever saw him, before we ever slept together, before I ever had the thought that I’m about to put into words. He’d told me early on—casually, almost like a disclaimer, the way you’d mention a food allergy before
Read moreA Fictional Story by Zealousideal-Belt406. I’d been pissing too much. That’s the unglamorous truth of it. Not every story starts with desire or shame or the slow-burning ache of a fantasy waiting to surface. Some start with a prostate that’s decided to make itself known, a bladder that won’t shut up, a body that’s aging in the specific, unsexy way that sends you to a urologist at thirty-something because you’re tired of waking up three times a night to stand
Read moreAn SPH Experience by Civil_Owl8489. I was maybe twelve, thirteen—old enough to know that girls were different, but still too young to understand what that difference really meant. I had three best friends who were all girls, all around my age. We lived in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, spent every summer afternoon together riding bikes and building forts. Two of them I secretly thought were really cute, with their long hair and bright laughter, but the
Read moreAn SPH Experience by BossKilling. She doesn’t know. That’s the thing I keep coming back to. She has no idea about any of it — the tabs I leave open when she’s not home, the accounts I follow, the communities I lurk in, the words that loop in my head when I’m stroking myself late at night. BNWO. Sissy. Whiteboi. SPH. She doesn’t know any of those terms exist in my vocabulary, let alone that they’ve shaped the way I
Read moreAn SPH Experience by gagmewithyourpride. I need to rewind a bit for this to make sense. — Rehab isn’t where you expect to make friends. Or maybe it is—I wouldn’t know. The first time I went, I didn’t talk to anyone. The second time, I talked too much. The third time, which was about two years ago, I landed somewhere in the middle: quiet enough to listen, open enough to connect. That’s where I met him. His name doesn’t matter.
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