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The Small Penis Story to end ALL small penis stories. – By THale

Penises. They give women pleasure. They make men feel masculine and powerful. They help make babies. Even Wikipedia states that if you’ve got one, you’re even making more money than those who are sporting vaginas.

Basically, in their own strange way, they help make the world go round.

In a symbolic moment in the supermarket, I was rummaging through the banana section today when I started thinking about this. Does size matter, I wondered? It must, after all, we all try to get the biggest, ripest bananas, right? I looked over at the older lady next to me, she must’ve been in her mid-nineties. Geez, she looks old. , I couldn’t help but think. She looked like one of the robots on Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean ride.

Even she put down the smaller bunch she was peering at and started eyeing a large one I was holding. I smiled and handed it to her. Poor thing. At her age, she needs it more than I do, I smiled to myself as I picked out another smaller bunch.

Getting philosophical over bananas and penises suddenly gave me a painful flashback of a guy I knew a couple of years back. Desperate to break my yearlong streak of not having any dates, my best friend Pattie set me up with her friend Mike. Mike was a nice guy, boy next door type. He had a good job, had all his arms and legs and was decent looking. Mike came often to our bigger gatherings and there had been enough chemistry for Pattie to notice. So she set us up.

We went out for dessert and a movie, which was Mike’s idea and I was glad to do something different other than just dinner or coffee. Mike was nervous at first, but after an hour or so, everything started to flow better and we were having a relatively good time. We shared apple pie and ice cream after the movie. I did notice he talked about himself A LOT, more than he asked me questions. Note to self, I thought. Finally, realizing the time, Mike drove me home.
And that’s when things got WEIRD.

Now let me just say: I hate the final moments of a first date anyway. Unless you know that person already and there’s no awkwardness, it can be friggin nerve wrecking. Is he going to kiss me? Isn’t he? What if I have bad breath? What if he has herpes and I get it? I was stressing over all this crap from the moment Mike was paying the check for dessert. Well, all that stuff was a walk in the park compared to what did actually happen…

We sat in the car outside my place in awkward silence (cringe, cringe) and suddenly Mike leaned in and kissed me. Hmm, not bad, I thought. Just the right amount of tongue, he’s not slobbering all over me, and I’m not getting blasts of nose air in my face. My neurotic kissing critique was satisfied.

He then sat back and looked at me with a big smile on his face. A huge Cheshire cat smile like he knew I was about to see something amazing. His expression was a combination of pride, smugness and confidence. I tilted my head What is he doing. I wondered?
“You make me so hot, Talia,” he said.

He shifted his hips and unbuttoned the top button of his pants and started to pull his zipper down. Oh Gawd, I thought. I can’t believe he’s pulling it out on my street. This was NOT turning me on by any means. We weren’t in high school, we were two adults in our thirties. I was a slow mover in the sex department and seeing a guy’s unit on the first date wasn’t exactly my idea of romantic. Even so, I couldn’t say anything and just watched the calamity unfold. He smiled at me and pulled himself out of his pants.
Pissed off, I looked down, getting ready to tell Penis Mike off, but when I looked down I completely forgot about being mad. My eyes grew massive and I just stared. I couldn’t believe it.

His penis was tiny, and I mean TINY.

As in ‘the infinitesimal – where-is-it – let-me-grab-a magnifying-glass-to-find-it’ kind of tiny.

I was in shock. I mean, newborns were like porn stars compared to this guy. How could it be so small? And I was not penis-picky at all, I’d never seen one that seemed small to me in general. This one was maybe a full inch, at best. What was more incredible, was that Mike was sitting there staring at me, proud as an Olympic athlete who’d just won the gold medal.

I was so thrown off by his teeny wiener (or in his case more like pigs in a blanket) that without thinking I blurted out, “Where is it?”
He sat back as if I’d slapped him. “What do you mean?”

“Oh! Err… I mean, where are we? You’re so huge and sexy that I’m forgetting where I am.” Man, you’re really reaching there, Talia, I thought to myself.

Of course Mr. Delusional bought it. He smiled really big and instantly relaxed, as if to say, ‘yeah, that’s what I thought’. Jesus, this guy was delusional. How could he think he was well equipped down there? Did he come from a planet where men had 1mm penises? (Even then he’d only outshine them by maybe 10 or 12.)

Then it got even more cringe worthy: He took my hand and put it on his nub, trying to get me to massage him. It felt like one of those pencil erasers in the middle of my hand. I felt like I was in the dating version of the Twilight Zone.
Quickly I pulled my hand away and said, “Mike, listen, I don’t move this fast.”

He waved his hand like I was being silly. “Oh, come on, Baby, just a little.”
My brow furrowed. “No! I don’t do this on the first date, are you kidding?”

“Come on then, just give it a little kiss,”

I couldn’t believe how clueless this guy was. I hadn’t given one indicator that I was enjoying seeing his overly small schlong.

I yanked my hand away and making a mental note to run for the hand sanitizer, got out of the car. “I said no, Mike. Good night.”

“Talia, Baby, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you! Come back here!”

The neighbours who’d been walking their dog stood there watching. Hell, even the dog was watching. I went inside feeling so awkward. This has definitely been a first, and also the last, in terms of ever seeing Mike again.

But of course as life would have it, more shit was about to hit the fan.

Two days later, I was at dinner with my best friend Gaby, reliving the horror of Mike’s delusions. Gaby had sat through enough awkward first dates with me that by this time she was a pro. At the end of dinner, a text came in from yes; you guessed it, Mr. Tiny Penis, asking me out for the following weekend. He was asking me out again?? This guy was about as in touch with reality as I’d been in 3rd grade, when I’d secretly worn my mom’s size DD bra to school hoping it would get this one boy to like me.

Since Mike and I travelled in the same circles and frequently ran into each other at group events, I decided to make up a reason for not seeing him and NOT tell him that he was an overly forward, the tacky weirdo with a penis the size of an amoeba. As we were driving home, I used the hands free Talk-to-Text feature on my phone to speak the text instead of typing it.

“Hey Mike! Thanks for the offer, but I’m actually busy this weekend. I’ll see you around at the next event though, take care!”

Message sent. I put the phone back and Gaby nodded her approval. We went back to our discussion, wondering and joking about how strange the whole thing had been.
“How could he not realize that it’s so friggin small?” Gaby said.

I shrugged. “Has NO ONE ever told him the truth or hasn’t he seen other ones in the locker room? I’m sure some girl had said to him, ‘is it IN yet?’ And besides, he just expected you to give him a blow job after your first kiss?”

She shook her head. I smiled. “Probably would’ve been like having a tic-tac. Gaby said.”

We cracked up as we stopped at a red light. Then I heard this sound. BEEEEEEEP. It was a familiar beep. My head tilted to the side. What was that. I thought? I picked up and looked at my phone.

Oh noooooo. No, no, no, no….

How could he not realize that it’s so small has no one ever told him the truth or hasn’t he seen other ones in the locker room, I’m sure some girl has said to him is it IN yet and besides he just expected you to give him a blow job after your first kiss Probably would’ve been like having a tic-tac ha ha ha ha ha: the Talk-to-text feature had still been on and had recorded our conversation and sent it to Mike.

Everything we’d said about his cock being small, even our stupid laughing had all been sent over. “Shit!” I exclaimed. “Fucking phone!”

I told Gaby what had happened and she looked like she needed one of those airplane barf bags. This was so bad. We’d just been having private girl talk, and he was not a gentleman for sure, but it was never meant to get back to Mike. My stupid cell phone had done me in.
Mike never responded to my text message, but every time he saw me on an outing, he would stand in the corner and look at me like I was Adolf Hitler.

At the last gathering I was at, he’d been standing to my left when someone handed me an appetizer and asked me to pass it down, which would be with Mike. After eyeing the dish I decided it’d be best not to.

It was Pigs in a Blanket.

The End.