Does Size Matter?
AKA My Sister's Boyfriend
My sister finally dated a winner. After years of dating mediocre prospects her new beau was a keeper. I figured it was her neediness that kept her from finding better guys 'cause physically she was a nine.
He was kind and strong, ripped even, with washboard abs. Tall and dark and successful. Everyone liked him and so did I. I'd even go so far as to say I had a man-crush on him.
She was more enamored than she had ever been before. Giddy with excitement she would gush all day long. If his drink was low she jumped to fill it. If he told a joke, she never failed to laugh. She was constantly trying to please him in every way, big or small.
She said his best quality was that he didn't push and coerce her into relations. In fact, after a month they still hadn't done the deed. I even overheard her privately telling a girlfriend that they hadn't even had a blowjob yet. She thought that made him gallant. As a man I was suspicious of a guy who wasn't interested in bedding his girl, but I pushed aside any doubts I had since he obviously treated her so well.
So one week he took me out and taught me how to hunt deer. When he asked if I wanted to go it felt like my chance to stand out from the rest of the family in his eyes.
He seemed to know everything about hunting. And at one point during the trip when the four-wheeler broke, he even demonstrated his mechanical abilities. He really had the full package.
I'm straight, but watching this magnificent man's arms flex as he hoisted our gear high up into a tree to protect it from bears I couldn't help but be attracted to him in a platonic way. And if a bear did come into our camp there was no one more I wanted nearby.
Sitting by the campfire I drank too much and admitted too much, "Craig, you're a perfect guy. A real man's man, and you really make my sister happy. Do you think you might pop the question someday?"
After a long pause he took an equally long draw on his beer, "Casey, no one's perfect. Hard as we try, the only thing that drives us to get better is our inadequacies."
I let that sink in and with all the beer I'd drunk it took awhile, "Why? What's wrong with you? If I were a girl I'd be sucking your cock every night just to make sure you never got away."
We stared at the crackling flames forever until he spoke again, "That's the problem," he said. "I work out every day and I build these big muscles, but no amount of effort makes you grow where it counts."
I couldn't imagine Craig being anything short of perfection. Every guy worries about his size, but if Craig worried he was small it would be an unimportant quirk stacked up against all his other great attributes. And I just knew he couldn't actually be small - not a man with a big hulky studly body like his. This notion was obviously just in his mind.
I answered reassuringly, "Girls say size doesn't matter. I've even heard my sister say that." His eyes brightened for a second. Then I went on, "If one guy has a big dick, like I do, and another guy is an average six, well, who cares?"
He took a big swig, "What if it's not six?"
I thought about it for a minute. I thought about my sister wanting babies. And I thought about an old Abraham Lincoln story about how a man's legs needed to be only long enough to reach the ground. I answered back, "If it's big enough to make you a father that would be pretty perfect." I was getting drunker and drunker, and his vulnerability just made his cross-gender sex appeal all the sexier. Then I ran my mouth off, "Why, You're so perfect that if you actually had a small penis I'd want to suck it just because it's attached to you. I'd...well a girl...would suck so hard she'd suck an extra inch into it - like a human penis pump."
Craig tossed his can into the fire, "Do ya think those things work?"
I still doubted he had a small prick. If anything he just didn't have an inflated ego. But I felt the need to mend his anguished pride, "Oh yea, I'm sure they work. You can get an inch or two the first time - temporarily. But with regular use..."
Craig seemed to cheer up. He smiled weakly at me and I was addicted to making him smile, "Yea, I bet if you combine it with the pills, well there's no saying..."
Then I totally lied, adding to my earlier statement, "You know, blowjobs are like penis pumps. If she sucks hard enough it'll make it pump up bigger. Like an inch or two that first time - temporarily. But with regular hard sucking..."
The conversation drifted off topic and before we knew it, it was time for bed. It was hot so we slept on top of our bags.
Like, twenty minutes later I heard Craig's nervous voice, "You awake?"
"Yea."
"Did you really mean it? Size doesn't matter - to girls, like your sister?"
"Of course it doesn't matter." I wondered if I were lying again, "No one cares about size. Talent, success at work, big muscles, a good sense of humor, those are all surely more important. You've got it all Craig! I'm surprised sis hasn't ripped your pants off yet trying to suck you off." Then my mind wandered, "I bet she'd even enjoy swallowing your cum. A lot of girls don't. And I bet you have a lot of it too. You know dick size and cum volume are unrelated." I could even hear him nod his head in agreement in the pitch dark. I kept talking, "Why, anyone would be lucky to swallow your big cum load. I bet it's one of life's great pleasures to suck your cock. I bet the girls cream their pants when they get it between their lips. I'm right, aren't I?"
He didn't say anything and I remembered overhearing my sister saying that she hadn't even given him a BJ yet. Then it dawned on me that he was afraid of what a woman would think of his size. I figured his unfounded fear was holding him back. "You've never had a blowjob before, have you?"
I must've hit a nerve and Craig got rightfully pissed, "You sure do talk about blowjobs a lot Mr. Big Dick!"
I felt bad and we were quiet for a long time after that. "I'm sorry Craig. What can I do to make it up to you?"
