LARGETONY Blog

Penises are like best friends. They are always there when you need them, but they have the power to lead you astray and make you do things you probably shouldn’t. Ask the teenager who is shotgun marrying his girlfriend. Ask the frat boy who visits the pharmacist scratching and wearing dark glasses. Ask Bill Clinton, Michael Jackson, or Pee-Wee Herman.

Ask them why they did whatever it was that they did and they will tell you, “my penis told me to.” All you women who read this blog (read: two) may not realize it, but all you guys know…our penises talk. And we hear it..and we listen. No, our Johnson’s don’t talk out loud, they only talk to their owners (an innacurate way to identify oursleves given they own us). I’ve never heard another man’s cock talk to him (although I swear a few have said “come here” to me), only my own. Mine has a deep voice. Not like James Earl Jones deep. That’s too classy and educated. Mine’s more like Barry White deep. Dirty. It may be cliche, but I guess it’s appropriate that since I have a big dick, it talks like a black man.

Last Saturday night I went out for the first time since Easter weekend. I don’t go out a lot. Basically because its a chore to get ready and then drive down to Knoxville, then drive back up. But I also don’t enjoy bars all that much. I’m not much of a social butterfly, I can’t dance, and I have to be careful about what I drink becuase of the drive back. So I never really get loosened up.

So I was standing by myself, as usual, and a guy comes up to me and says, “I know who you are.” I did not recognize him, and I told him so. He just grinned at me and said, “We don’t know each other, but I know who you are.” Then he walked away. He never told me, so I don’t know for sure how he knows me, but it made me think that I had just experienced my first time being recognized from my website. That was weird because in the year and a half the site has been up, no one has ever said a thing.

He joined a group of other guys, one of whom came by me later. He said hello, and struck up a conversation. Just basic “how are you?” kind of stuff. He was a little buzzed and eventually got around to why he had come over.

“I heard a rumor about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” ( Oh, God. Here we go.)

“Uh-huh. You want to know what the rumor is?”

“I think I can guess.” (I have naked pictures on the internet.)

“So, is it true?”

“You know rumors. Some are true, some are not.”

“I bet this one is.”

“Only one way to know for sure.” (Go on the internet when you go home.)

“Okay. Where? In the toilet?”

“Ummm…” (Okay, he’s not talking about the website…”)

“We can go out to the car, if you want.”

“Ummmm…” (He wants to have sex??)

“I’m not talking about doing anything. If the rumor is true, I don’t even know what I would dowith it. I just want to see it.”

Light bulb. He heard I have a big dick and he wanted me to prove it. And that’s when Mr. Johnson came to town. That’s the other thing about penises. They tend to hibernate and you almost forget the are there. Almost. It stays in a simple slumber unless you have to piss, or it’s bunched up in a bad position in your clothes, or when something get’s its attention and your thing has sprung as if Spring has sprung.

The guy stepped back a bit to look at my package and I heard it talking.

“Show him. Go ahead. Show him,” it said.

(I can’t do that.)

“Or course you can. What’s it gonna hurt just to show him?”

(I’m not pulling you out in public.)

“Look at him. He wants to see it. Haul it out and make his day.”

And that’s the thing about my thing. It likes attention. When some one pays attention, it wants to stand at attention. It’s been a long winter, and the bud has been dying for Spring to burst forth.

I tried to not listen. But, just like you’re powerless in trying to ignore your best friend, you’re powerless in trying to ignore what you member is telling you. Because my cock stopped talking to me and started talking to the other guy. Naturally, another guy can’t actually hear my cock’s voice, so it chose non-verbal communication. It started to creep and crawl in my shorts and spoke the most common language of all. Body language. I may have heard what my dick had to say, but he saw what it had to say.

And dicks are persistent. Also, like your best friend, ignoring him won’t stop him from doing something he is hell bent on, and eventually you give up your protests and let him pull you into the fray.

(Okay. Yeah, it’s exciting that he’s so into looking at it. If I show him, he’ll have a good story to tell his friends.)

But before my potruding pecker could drag me into the pit, the guy looked up at me and said, “I’m convinced.”

You know what they say: a picture is worth a thousand words.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 28th, 2005 at 11:22 am and is filed under dating and sex. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.