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by anon.

Part of the mystique of the male penis is the concern many men have regarding the size of their penises in relation to other men. Jokes about penis size abound. The same fixation that women have about breast size is shared by men about penis size. Some studies indicate that males see size, in general, as evidence of masculinity. The assumption, “Bigger is better,” is often understood by both males and females to mean the larger the penis, the better the sexual ability. Of course, this is a myth. The size of the male organ is not related to greater sexual satisfaction for the female, except perhaps psychologically. The inner two-thirds of the vagina are incapable of feeling the penis. Therefore an erect penis of even three or four inches is sufficient to stimulate the outer vaginal nerves. (Francoeur, Becoming a Sexual Person, 1984, p. 97)

I have to start this essay, following this little tidbit of scientific fact to counteract the “bigger is better” myth/falsehood, by apologising to you for wanting to remain anonymous. The reason should be obvious to you after having read the title of this article. I’m not ready to “pull my pants down” and reveal my “shortcomings” to the world just yet.

It is my contention that a man with a small penis, and I limit myself to American society, is the best target for being teased, mocked, or made fun of (not that your author has a lot to make fun of), and as a result suffers from a great deal of humiliation and embarrassment if he is discovered, and a great deal of fear if he is not. I should know because I have a small penis (really, small genitalia, if you include my testicles, and you should, because they are small, too). If you prefer you can call it a “short dick” or “little wiener” or “tiny pecker”.

Amazing how the funny names flow so easily, like Cyrano describing his big nose to the hostile crowd to show them that they’ve not thought of any put-downs he hasn’t already. And least I can hide my “midget-member” most of the time. What do you do about a big nose? Rhinoplasty, self-hatred, or radical self-acceptance! Cyrano was heroic because he chose the latter. I’m not that brave.

I don’t like being a target for mockery and that comes from some bad experiences of being one as a result of my “curse” (did God curse me or the devil? See the movie “Bedazzled” with Elizabeth Hurley for a hilarious scene about penis size!) So I live in fear of anyone discovering my “little secret” and exposing me to the world (actually I live in fear of exposing myself to the world, a country, a small village, or even a gathering of intimate friends. Hell, I’m afraid of even one person that I don’t know and trust deeply knowing about me). I don’t want to become the butt of anyone’s jokes, or to be anatomically correct, the “dick” of anyone’s jokes.

Unfortunately, as I said above, I have been discovered and humiliated on a few occasions, and it really hurt me. I have to admit though, there is at least one positive thing about my “genitally challenged” condition: during high school, I was so afraid that if I “went for it” with a girl, she would either laugh at me or my “thing” wouldn’t work that consequently, I never went for it, thereby eliminating any chance of me contributing to any unwanted pregnancy and subsequent abortion or contracting or spreading a venereal disease. That’s actually a few positive things! Hurray for my small penis!

Another good thing comes to mind, now that I think about it: a great deal of humility. There’s one less asshole in the world bragging about what a “real man” he is because he’s got a large penis. Especially during high school, not only was I humble about my manhood, I spent most of my time wondering if I was really a man at all, and believe me, that will mess with your self image.

Before I continue, let me define my terms. Everyone is familiar with the word “penis,” and most of us are also familiar with someone’s actual penis, at least our own or a loved one’s, and many of us know a lot of penises (both the reproductive organs and the “dickheads” walking around). Now by “small” I mean below average, assuming that the sex researchers are correct and the average length of a man’s erect penis is approximately 6.5 inches long, and when flaccid or limp, about 2.5 inches long (again, see Francoeur’s Becoming, referred to above).

I’ve just got to ask, at this point, pardon the interruption: “Who the hell did these people study?” Certainly not any male porn stars I have seen in movies, unless they were comedies. On the contrary, the porn stars I have seen have what appears to be some sort of tree limb projecting out of their pubic region, or something akin to that alien monster that bursts out of the astronauts’ stomach in Alien, only pink or brown and without the arms, eyes, and little teeth (though it seems that some of these “monster-cocks” were making noises). Good lord, what do these guys do when they are sitting in a business meeting and get an erection? Do they have to run to the bathroom and let the thing out to breath and move around a bit until it goes back to sleep, like some sort of penis-pet? “Sorry Jim, don’t mean to hold us up, but Sue’s dress is really turning me on and I have to let “Thor” out for awhile. He gets really ornery when I keep him confined this long.”

And just who are the women who can fit these “mule-sized members” into their vaginas? Okay, I know if a woman’s vagina can expand to delivery a baby, it can expand to fit one of these “super-penises.” But what woman wants to give birth every day or night? Doesn’t childbirth have great pain associated with it? Anyway, I’ll leave those stories to the women who can tell them and want to. I’m sure there’s a website for them, somewhere. Now back to my small penis.

At least from the anecdotal evidence I have collected from locker rooms I’ve been in since junior high, I have not seen many guys with penises smaller than mine. To be fair about my demographic sample, however, I haven’t run across a lot of guys running around showing off or bragging about their “average sized penises.” Rarer still is the man who will admit in public that he got the “short end of the stick” (or just a “short stick”) when God was handing out male genitalia. So maybe my “study” is a bit skewed toward men who don’t mind letting it all hang out and have no reason to fear being the target of mockery. We’ll call them the “Full Monties.”

Now let me do a “Full Monty” of sorts: when I get an erection, my penis is a maximum 5 inches long and none too thick either, maybe 1 ½ inches in diameter across the shaft. And yes, I have measured it, ala the movie “Porkies,” too many times in my teens and early 20’s – and even again for this article in case it has shrunk – all in the hopes that I would get one last burst of “genital growth hormone,” but alas, that has not happened. When it is in the flaccid state and I’m warm and comfortable, it’s maybe 2 inches long tops and barely an inch wide. And of course, like George Constanza in “Seinfeld,” when I’m getting out of the water or I’m cold, it’s what you would call an “inchworm” and I am actually able to push it into my scrotum, fold some of the scrotal skin over it and temporarily make it disappear, just like a scared little turtle pulling its head into the shell! Yes, I do this, just for fun. With the help of some transparent scotch tape, a full body wax, green body paint, and a fake bald head to cover my hair, I dare say I could almost make myself look like a non-sexual alien freak.

Okay, with the details about my size out of the way (not that it would ever get in the way of anything), I want to continue by considering the origin of why so many people in this country like to make fun of men with small penises (again, it may be a global phenomenon, but I can only speak of the place I know, the good ‘ol small penis hatin’ U.S. of A.). First of all, our nation has become increasingly conscious of people being harassed or made fun of over some aspect of their appearance, and consequently people are not doing this as much. Though some call it “hyper-sensitivity” or “political correctness,” I would call it moral correctness and just basic decency and politeness.

I believe it is wrong to tease or humiliate someone because they are small, tall, fat, thin, have some disfigurement, are missing a limb, etc. (though I have to admit I’ve done my share, especially when I was a teenager). Most of these people never had a choice about the way they are and God knows if they did they would have made a different choice, probably to blend in, to be like everyone else. Just look at all the plastic surgery and weight loss efforts going on around us if you need evidence. Most, if not all, people don’t like to be singled out and ridiculed and have their bodily defects become the subject of public scrutiny. Those that seemingly have a choice regarding their problems – obese people for example – usually have a rather sad story to tell about why they are the way they are and are probably dealing with some very painful and difficult underlying psychological issues that call for compassion and support and not disdain or condemnation. That, or there could be a legitimate biochemical basis for their weight gain. Besides, everyone has something that can be targeted by others for criticism, be it a defect of body, mind, heart, or soul. It’s just that people who have a problem controlling their weight, for example, can’t hide theirs. Those like me who can hide – at least most of the time – their “shortcomings” are blessed in a way. (Hurray for my hidden small penis!)

Coupled with this growing sensitivity to other people’s feelings is the willingness on the part of bystanders, co-workers, and friends to actually ridicule the bully or jerk for making the rude comment. More and more people are jumping to the defense of those attacked and looking with disapproval, disgust, and shock at anyone who would say such a thing about someone else. The social movement is toward people correcting each other when one friend or associate makes a disparaging comment about someone’s appearance, as well as their race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation. People are increasingly being reprimanded for insensitivity to another person’s feelings. I think this is a positive development in our culture and I hope it continues. It is the right thing to do.

Yet even in this more polite climate, it seems that people still need or want to point out how someone is “less” than they should be or just a “lesser” person than they are. Maybe it is because humans have an almost insatiable desire to feel good about themselves and so then are constantly comparing themselves with others in the hopes that they will “look better” than their neighbor. Unfortunately, it is this comparing and contrasting that tempts an insecure or sadistic person or persons to elevate themselves and their own stature by pointing out the inferiority of others, e.g. through mockery, ridicule, or even some form of physical violence.

Now it could be argued that these acts of denigration actually make the tormentor inferior in another, more important way, and I think that is true. They certainly do not build up their moral or spiritual standing by hurting another person’s feelings. But nonetheless, people (and that includes me at times, unfortunately) still do it. Look no further than a school playground to find evidence for this. Especially when adults are not around to supervise, some child at some point during that playtime will be putting another child down (see also, Lord of the Flies by William Golding, especially how the “Piggy” character is treated). Particularly when no threat of apprehension and punishment is in the vicinity, I believe adults are guilty of this behaviour as well, though they are usually more careful about it if they could be caught and shamed. However, as I said above, I think our society is getting better.

We all know this! Human beings have always victimised the weakest among their group, or those who were considered different or inferior. Watch the nature shows. Are we so different than the apes? I don’t think so. Granted, maybe this is just the way we are and will always be, even if we are trying to “evolve” away from this crudeness. If so, then we need a target. My real point in all this is that the targets have grown more limited as we have limited our attacks, but we still need targets. Who is left to tease as we look around the room? “She’s got a big nose. No. He’s huge! No. That guy looks like the “Wolfman,” he’s got so much hair on him. No. She doesn’t have any breasts. No. What about his amputated leg? Are you crazy? No. Well who then? Heh, do you remember when we went on that company picnic to the lake and we had to change in that locker room? Remember when I told you to look over at Jim and you almost started laughing when you saw how small his dick was? Yeah! Well, let’s make fun of him. If he can’t take it he’s too damn sensitive.

What’s he going to say? If he gets mad or cries about it that just proves to everyone that he has a small penis and he’ll be even more embarrassed. Watch… ‘Hey Jim, I really think you should go over and sit with the women talking over there, because that little pecker you got probably qualifies more as a large clitoris, don’t you think? You might feel more at home hanging out – or not hanging out – with your own kind.'” Yuk, yuk, yuk. Apparently it’s funny. But why?

Why is it funny that a man has a small penis? What’s wrong with a small penis? After all, as some say (probably guys with small penises): “It’s not the size of the wand but the magic it contains.” But as Janet Jackson once said in response to a question about her preference for genitally well-endowed men: “What’s wrong with a big magic wand?” The fact is, despite sex researchers preaching that “size doesn’t matter”, people are not buying it. If they were buying it, there wouldn’t be so many penis enlarging ads in the back of all the men’s magazines.

Most people still believe, and I even subscribe to this opinion myself to some extent (I guess the brain-washing is still working), the following: to really please a woman sexually during penile/vaginal intercourse, I mean to really drive her into unbridled, primitive, guttural moaning/shouting, orgasmic frenzy, a man needs a large penis, i.e. long and thick and hard. You can just do more during intercourse with a big dick, as long as you have read the instruction manual and have some practice. It’s further inside the woman and it stretches her more, producing more pressure against the lining of her vagina, more friction, and more stimulation of those “sex nerves.” She feels its presence to a greater extent. She can get a better “grip” on it. Since the penis is longer and has a longer reach, more powerful thrusting and deeper penetration can occur with each thrust, all without the dreaded “slip outs” (I experience those quite often during sex) that deny the attainment of the sacred rhythm the partners are searching for to get to the “Promised Land”….well, at least the female partner is searching for this, if she is one of the lucky women who actually have orgasms during penile/vaginal intercourse. A man can have an orgasm in seconds, fully clothed, simply by pressing his genitals against a washer during the spin-cycle. “That’s just how we’re made, baby. It don’t take much to make Mr. Happy sappy!”

It’s engineering, really. Have you ever seen someone churn butter the old-fashioned way? The longer the handle, the deeper you can push the tool down into the milk; the more milk you move, the faster it becomes butter.

Look, let’s face it small guys, the guy with a large penis has another advantage during sex: the wide range of sex positions you can use. The superior reach allows for a greater variety. When she’s contorted and twisted like a Russian gymnast on the balance beam, you’ve got to be able to get in and stay in. The more active she is during the sexual Twister game, the more difficult this is. That’s my experience, anyway. There are just some limitations us little guys have to work around. And if your girl has a bunch of extra junk in her trunk and you like to “do it like the animals,” again, you have got to have a tool with a long enough handle or that luggage is going to get in the way. A final bit of folksy sex humor to make my point. “If the ladder is long enough, you can pick any apple on the tree.”

What do the sex researchers say about that? Probably something like “If the male has an erect penis of 3 or 4 inches, with the cooperation of the female and some experimentation, along with patience and teamwork, assuming she is vaginally orgasmic, mutual sexual satisfaction can be attained through penile/vaginal intercourse in certain positions.” Thank you Dr. Percy Poindexter, Professor of Penisology! Women want hot, romantic, passionate, rhythmic, powerful, spontaneous sex. They want it to go in and stay in and then they want to go off on it. And men want to go off in them!

Enough of the mechanics. You know, what the heck does any of this matter? Big penis, small penis, medium penis. Who the hell cares? Who cares about pleasing a woman sexually? From a purely biological standpoint, that is, the survival of the human race, it really isn’t about the woman’s orgasm, it’s about the dude and the deed: “get in, get out, and get back on your feet with spear in hand in case the Saber-toothed tiger is coming to get you. And you just made another human being to take your place in case it does.” The female orgasm during sexual intercourse is not necessary for a pregnancy to occur – thank God or we’d all be extinct – so who cares?

Well, right or wrong, here’s how the argument goes, the one we’ve bought into in this society and that sells all those penile elongation pills and vacuum pumps: To be a “real man” you must be desired by women. To be desired by women you must be able to please them sexually during intercourse. To please a woman sexually during intercourse you must have a large penis. Therefore, logically, if you do not have a large penis, you cannot please a woman sexually during intercourse, and therefore you are not a real man. By the way, I’ve got to say that the chief proponents of this argument, besides the pill-pushers and vacuum-pump makers, are those who write to “Penthouse Forum:” men and boys who never describe their “love-missiles” as less than 8 inches. Unfortunately, I know this from having read it on a regular basis when I was a teenager. A “late-blooming” teenager that is, which means my inferiority complex was more deeply ingrained in me with every letter I read. Thank you Bob Guccione! There’s the origin of my brain-washing!

Now look around. Most men want to be considered “a real man.” They try to look and act young, powerful, and rich. They get hair transplants and have penile elongation surgery. They study Muay Thai kickboxing and Brazililan Jiu-Jitsu. They drive big trucks, fancy cars, and loud Harleys. They wear expensive clothes and cologne that they think will attract women, or whatever “uniform” the women they want to have sex with are drawn to, be that biker leather or jeans, a t-shirt, and a cowboy hat and boots. They brag about their accomplishments, achievements, and conquests. Whatever they think will attract the young, beautiful, hot chicks! It’s been that way from the beginning and continues to this day and into the future. That’s because most men in this country (excluding of course gay men, some Buddhist monks, sleep deprived fathers with kids under age 3, and the guys that attend Star Wars conventions dressed as Obi Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader) want to have sex with attractive women. That is just the nature of man and I have no doubt about it. Even I want to have sex with an attractive woman – who is also the right person for me, of course – even as she would have to forgive me for being nearly biologically asexual at times and unable to perform adequately in certain love-making positions.

Actually, I have had sex with several women in my life. None of them complained about my 5″ erection. None of them laughed at me when they saw my genitals (no, they were not all 18 year-old virgins who had never seen a penis before so they had nothing to compare me to). Some were actually quite experienced. They all seemed to enjoy the sex we had. If they didn’t have an orgasm during intercourse, I made sure they had one in another way. Of course I enjoyed the sex, but it really wasn’t about me. My enjoyment during intercourse wasn’t about “if,” but only a question of “when” (remember, the washing machine on spin cycle?). So it was really about making sure the woman was satisfied. (Information point of reference for men who cannot ejaculate during sexual intercourse. And one for men who cannot reach orgasm at all – anorgasmia – www.delayedejaculationtreatment.org)

As I stated above, I did have trouble “staying in” during certain positions, e.g. woman on top, “riding me,” if she got too active; me from behind her “doggie style,” again, especially if she got too active. All the women I’ve had sex with liked me or even loved me, so as I said, they didn’t complain. They weren’t with me just for the sex they could get…

Well, if this was the case, why do I have a problem with my penis size? Why not get over the “real-man” lie, call the “big penis propaganda” a steaming load of bull-shit, and be happy with “Mr. Happy, Jr.?” You might be thinking, “What the hell are you whining about? Get over this and get a life!

First, just find yourself a woman who will be satisfied with the manual and oral stimulation you give her to bring her to orgasm and the occasional “Big O” she’ll have doing it with you in the Missionary position (which will of course also require a lot of patience, perseverance, self-restraint, and repeated re-entries, every woman’s fantasy). Second, be sure not to audition for a porn-movie – unless it’s a comedy – or embark on a career as a male stripper. Third, don’t work as a nude model at an art school or try to get a gig as model for a men’s underwear catalogue. Fourth, never, ever, ever, under any circumstances wear Speedos at the beach or pool. Fifth, never go to a nude beach or skinny-dipping with friends. Sixth, don’t join a health club or gym that has common showers or doesn’t have partitions between the urinals (Hurray for the inventor of the urinal partition! You must have a small penis or a large one that gets many unwanted glances from gay men.) Seventh, if you ever write an article about having a small penis, for God’s sake don’t use your name or you will end up on some incarnation of the Jerry Springer show being jeered, mocked, heckled, and laughed at while they make you dance around in a sparkling thong, showing off your tiny man-bulge.

Then again, you might not be thinking this because you might not have a tiny little pea-nub (so-called because it’s often just a little nub of flesh more than it is a penis!).

Well let me get to what this is really all about; why I’m bitching and moaning: the bottom line is, I don’t like being made fun of. I don’t like people looking at me, pointing, and laughing. I know people chant “sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never harm me,” but that’s really a lot of crap and I’d like to take a stick or a stone and hit those people over the head. Of course, they’d just make fun of my small penis to get back at me. I won’t go into the details of the things people have said and done to me, mainly because you might not be interested and you may feel no sympathy for me, and that’s fine. I also won’t share the details because the stories are way too personal and embarrassing. And I’m actually afraid those who humiliated me might read this and remember the incidences and laugh and say, “Hey, that’s that one guy! I remember him. Let’s post this on the Internet along with his name.” No. I’m not going to make myself vulnerable to the sadistic bastards.

I guess, ultimately, my penis size is my problem. Well, actually, I don’t have a problem with my penis size, except for the fact that when I sit on a toilet and urinate, I have to hold it down toward the water or I pee all over everything (The darn little nub doesn’t hang down! It retracts and points straight out, parallel to the toilet seat, threatening to soak my pants and underwear and the floor with urine!). If I lived on a desert island, what the hell would my penis size matter as long as it excreted liquid waste? What I really have a problem with is what most people – and again one of my points in this essay is that most people have bought into the bigger is better myth – think about the size of my penis. But I can’t change the way most people think, and as I stated above, even I have bought into this myth to some extent for reasons which I have tried to show are based on my actual sexual experiences, and maybe other peoples too.

Maybe more research needs to be done to debunk this myth once and for all and then it needs to be made very public. Hear that sex researchers? Line up couples for penile/vaginal intercourse experiments and see if size really does matter when it comes to the ability of a man to please a woman. Test it and prove it! That’s the American way. But until the myth is de-bunked on “Mythbusters XXX rated” I am going to be very careful. I’ve learned the hard way that guys with small penises are targets of ridicule that is absolutely acceptable in this society. I can’t keep track of how often penis jokes are made in so many different ways on so many different T.V. shows and movies. It’s open season on us. And forget trying to counteract the myth with scientific facts when jokes are made. It doesn’t work. It makes people suspicious that you too, might be one of those “hiding something” and soon after, you’re a target of ridicule.

Call me too sensitive. Tell me to “Get over it!” in the words of the Don Henley song by the same name. I can’t. Mock me once, shame on you. Mock me twice, shame on me. Mock me three times? Call a psychotherapist because you and I are in a sick, co-dependent, sado-masochistic relationship. I won’t give people the chance to hurt me. At least I care enough about myself to avoid being a target again. Above all, I make sure I don’t get naked in front of anyone unless I absolutely have to and can’t avoid it, e.g. my doctor doing a physical on me or a woman I love and trust and want to have sex with who feels the same about me. Even with my doctor I just look down to avoid eye contact and try to pretend that my penis is no different than anyone else’s, knowing of course that it is. And he knows that too. But he’s a good doctor. He’s seen all kinds of naked people, hasn’t he? I just hope to God he’s not going home, holding up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart, and saying to his wife, “No shit honey, it was this small!”

Look, it’s time for me to show some perspective on this. I know I’m blessed. I’m not paralyzed or maimed. I’m not horribly disfigured due to disease or burns. I’m not starving to death, or homeless, or dying of AIDS or terminal cancer. I’m not morbidly obese or dangerously thin, unable to hide my problem from public view. And honestly, I’m not a black man in America. Now before you accuse me of racism, think for a second. If it’s humiliating to be a white man with a small penis, imaging being black? Lord, to be a brother with a tiny pecker! What must it be like, in this society at least, which glorifies and stereotypes black men as sexual super-studs, capable of pleasing any woman with their genetically superior sex organs, unbridled masculinity, and sexual vigor? But it’s just that, a stereotype. Is there truth to it? Is it false? I doubt that a lot of black men are going to deny it, because just like White men and Latino men and Asian men and Native American men and Pacific Islanders, they want people to think they are a “real man.”

Can you really see some African-American guy standing up and saying, “I am black, proud, and I have a small penis.” This could happen, if it was done at the Apollo theatre by a comedian who was getting paid a bunch of money to make people laugh. Otherwise, no way. No heterosexual man, regardless of race or ethnic background, wants to have his masculine identity – his “manhood” – called into question. We like to fancy ourselves tough guys, macho-men, bad asses, thugs, souljahs. No man in his right mind would make himself vulnerable like this unless he would get a great reward or he was moved by some altruistic feeling, believing it would benefit humanity or something. I’m not sure there is enough money in the world for me to stand naked in front of people with the pre-pubescent-sized genitalia I have, or even talk about my genitalia fully-clothed non-anonymously. No, I would not win on “Fear Factor.”

Looking again on the bright side, I am grateful for so many things, even some sexual things. After all, I know that I am capable of enjoying satisfying sexual relations (I don’t suffer from erectile-dysfunction. Imagine the frustration of having a huge cock that doesn’t work!) with a woman within certain physical limitations, limits some wonderful, attractive woman who loves me would not mind living within, as long as I would occasionally be willing to wear some sort of penile enhancement device – sort of a hollowed out dildo – which she could use for her own private sexual satisfaction when I’m not around to animate it with my tiny penis.

But if I saw my Creator, I would be tempted to say, like the Bud Lite commercial about foot-long hot dogs, “Couldn’t you have given me ‘just a few more inches?’ Come on God! I don’t want to set any records or anything, but I would like just to fit in and not be an object of ridicule.” I think he would respond, realistically: “How would you like to trade with the kid with no arms and legs? Or the girl who has the facial deformity? Huh? Would you? Get real, you big baby!” Okay, maybe God would be more loving and understanding than that and not be sarcastic, but he would – and does, via countless tragic situations I read about everyday in the news – put things in perspective for me. So it really that bad? No. Does it get me down at times? Yes. Would I like to change it? Yes, at times. But then again, “You change one thing, you change it all: ‘The Butterfly Effect.'”

Yes, I’ve thought of penile elongation surgery, just like the Steve Martin character in “Roxanne” dreamed about rhinoplasty. But I just recently read a urologist’s report that this is fraught with danger and not a sure thing at all. Actually, there is a great chance that this surgery will lead to loss of size or even disfigurement, like breast augmentation surgery gone bad. That’s all I need: a small, deformed penis. At least mine looks like a penis and works okay.

One final story: I once saw a ruler in a truck stop souvenir shop when I was about 13 years old. It was labeled “Penis Ruler” and was illustrated at every inch with a small cartoon-letter phrase. Even at that age I knew what this was about in this penis-size obsessed society. At 2 inches, my usual flaccid state, were the words, “Should have been born a girl.” Funny how these isolated, private moments and events can form a person’s self image to such a degree in childhood. I’ve wondered about myself ever since. Actually, I’ve wondered about myself since the last time my two brothers and I peed together at the same toilet as little boys, maybe when I was 10 and they were 11 and 8. I remember looking down at their penises and mine, and noticing that even my little brothers’ was bigger than mine. And none of us were even close to puberty, really. I said to them, “Yours are bigger than mine.” My older brother laughed, but my younger brother, trying to reassure me said, “Yours will get bigger ‘bubby.'” It eventually did, but not by much. You know, I don’t remember urinating with them after that day. I went underground and stayed there, and I still am.

“If life gives you lemons, make lemonade,” people say to help keep a positive attitude. What do I do? Could I be the star of my own porn-comedy movie: “The Incredible Shrinking Wiener?” How about joining “Ripley’s Believe It or Not” as “The World’s ‘Smallest’ Man?” Or as I said, I could get a job as a non-sexual alien character in a Sci-Fi movie: “We come in peace, without penises.” Better yet, men’s underwear models in department store catalogues can’t and don’t bulge too much, as Eddie Murphy once pointed out to great laughter and applause on the “Tonight Show”. I’d be perfect! They’d have no problems with me. “Hey Susie,” shouts the photographer to his assistant, “forget the bulge-restrainer on this shoot. We’ve got that model with the miniature genitals.” No, I will continue to live in anonymity and follow the “Commandments”: avoid situations of public nudity; never wear Speedos; be sure I trust a woman before I drop my drawers and have sex with her; always use a stall to piss in when a urinal is available – unless, praise God, there are urinal dividers (Hurray again for urinal dividers!); and laugh right along with everyone else when the latest crude, teen sex romp at the local cinema makes fun of some guys’ small penis…..

A final thought

It may be difficult for men with average or large dicks to understand the obsession that can develop in less well-endowed individuals. After all, why should it be such a matter of concern? Well, we equate penis size with manhood. Quite incorrectly, of course. But who wouldn’t be impressed with the penis on view above?

Here’s some information for men who have delayed ejaculation (aka retarded ejaculation), being unable to ejaculate during sex, and who need treatment for retarded ejaculation. Should you happen to have need of help for premature ejaculation, here’s some information on how to avoid premature ejaculation and last longer in bed.