Does Penis Size Relate to Desire to be Cuckolded?

I recently had a conversation with a fellow blogger who shall remain anonymous unless he chooses to identify himself, wherein we were trading stories about having a shy bladder.  One of the crappiest things about being in the military or working for the government is the constant requirement to take a pee test.  This isn’t the sort of thing in the civilian sector where they hand you a cup and you retreat to a private restroom to fill it up. 

In the military, they have an actual observer who must visually observe the urine transfer from your wiener (or vagina) into the cup.  This is evidence people, and if you’ve been smoking dope or injecting yourself with heroin, they want the observer to be able to testify in a court that they can verify it was your pee that went in the cup.

Okay, so if you have to do this sort of thing several times a year, you’d think that you’d just get used to it and be able to whip it out, fill the cup and move along.  Not me.  I’m a man in my mid-fifties, and no matter how many times I have to perform this service for my country, my dick seems to not only put the clamp down on urine delivery, but worse, I shrivel up like a prune.

I’ve often imagined that if I was a well endowed guy, I’d gladly stroll into the collection point, penis hanging out for all to see, ready to take on any and all observers.  But alas, I am already starting from the “average” dick size and when I have to pee in front of a crowd or at a bar where they don’t have those dividers, or heaven forbid, the trough still found in some Texas places, my dick goes tiny.

The strange thing is, if you’ve read this blog, you know I have no issue at all with showing my dick to others.  But the reality is, when I do that, I am not shriveled up.  I don’t even have to be semi-erect or fully hard.  That weirdness isn’t present, even in front of more endowed guys.  I have no problem with being the guy with the smaller dick in front of other people.  Just don’t make me pee.

So it just so happens that this fellow blogger I was talking with is into the Hotwife/cuckold scene as I am.  While we had a good laugh agonizing over our less than huge dicks, it occurred to me that most of the men I’ve encountered who were into the cuckold fetish, one of the turn ons was the idea of, or more importantly, the visual of their wife taking a much more well endowed lover. 

There is an entire genre of the cuckold world focused on the Big Black Cock (BBC).  I frankly find it slightly racist, but that’s not the point.  The point is the first B in BBC.  Big, for Big Cock.  How many cuckolds want their wife to hook up with a guy who happens to be hung like a third grader? 

If you read any Hotwife or cuckold sort of erotica, the male writer almost always makes reference to the larger size of the other male or even goes into great detail about how the “bull” (a term I hate) stretched his wife’s pussy or how she was in such pain from it all.  Some dipshits write about how he was so large that the cuckold’s minuscule penis could no longer even touch the walls.  These cuckolds obviously never fucked a woman after she had a kid or two, so they do not realize that the vagina is able to accommodate large things and go back to normal.

At any rate, the question remains.  Do men with smaller cocks have more of a propensity to be turned on by sharing their wives with more endowed men?   Do gay men who get off on being cuckolded have a similar relationship in penis size?

I’m eager to read your comments and thoughts on this.  E-mail works.


Free Porn – The Butterfly Effect

I’m sure you’ve heard the ads for it if you listen to podcasts at all, The Butterfly Effect, a story about how the world changed when a guy came up with the idea to make porn available for free.  I’ve been listening to it over the last two days and am almost finished. 

I highly recommend it.  The commercials for it come across like it would be preachy in some way, but it isn’t.  Just good journalism and story telling.  And you learn new stuff everyday.  I had no idea of the back story behind PornHub, RedTubes, Ashley Madison and how the pay for porn industry changed into a more boutique industry.

As a cheapskate, I say, long live free porn!

Writing For Fun…

I’ve been having a conversation with a new reader recently who found me through Literotica.  He was one of the few people who found something positive in The Veronica Story.  As a side note, can I just say that in spite of the fact that so many people on the Internet are jerks, there is something so positive about connecting with people who seem to “get” you.

Anyway, this gentleman was kind enough to enjoy Veronica, so I sent him some of the older stuff that I had posted and long ago removed.  Reading back over The Cashier I recalled just how much enjoyment I got out of writing fictional accounts of real people.

This takes me back to years ago in my youth.  I was horrible in English class in high school, and only a B student in my first two English courses in college. I attribute my shittiness not from an inability to read and write or use reasonable grammar, but being more interested in writing fun things and less interested in diagramming sentences.

I wish now that I had saved the many stories I wrote as a kid.  This is before computers and thumb drives and the ability to email a copy of your story to yourself or post it on a blog.  I was sort of like that kid in Stand by Me, writing goofy stories and sharing them with my friends.

I don’t want to get specific, but I did create a series of characters that lived really weird lives that, if I had saved the paper these stories were typed on, I could have perhaps recreated into more polished works.  No, not my own Harry Potter series or the next Game of Thrones, but just goofy folks that popped into my mind and flowed on paper.

It took years and a lot of actual sex before my writing would shift to an adult nature.  I feel less like a writer and more like a reporter when it comes to sex.  I’ve always avoided the use of the standard verbiage you see in a lot of smut. 

For cuckold’s stories, you always see the reference to “the marital bed.”  Uh, sure.  Okay.  Yes, when the husband and wife go to bed, it is the marital bed.  What if they are at a hotel?

I will use the terms cock and dick interchangeably, but I shy away from “turgid member.” I’d say with good reason.

Of course, I’m not opposed to good, descriptive writing.  By all means, I love it.  In fact, Aunt Clara has referred me to several descriptive works.  Since my wife and I enjoy, The Outlander, I’ve started reading the book(s).  That Diane Gabaldon can write some descriptive sex!

But when you read my blog, I am posting things that were written in pretty much ten to fifteen minutes and done.  Just the facts, Ma’am.  Anyway, I do think if I had more time to spend on such things, I would enjoy writing some fictional stuff.  Granted, posting on Literotica is not going to happen again, but perhaps just here.  We’ll see.

Walking And Parking…

I was taking my normal Sunday afternoon walk which takes me out of my neighborhood into a designated industrial area.  It is a single road that houses an assortment of service companies, electricians, two different exercise places, and several wooded lots just waiting for a company to purchase and build the next business.  It isn’t seedy or scary or anything of that nature, but on a Sunday afternoon, it is usually empty. 

As I was walking I noticed a pickup truck parked across the street from a building but in front of one of those empty lots.  At first I thought the truck was empty, perhaps someone had parked it there and ridden with someone else.  But as I approached, I could see a driver with his body fairly scooched down in the seat.  Perhaps he was taking a nap. 

Approaching now to within about twenty feet, a female popped up and pressed herself up against the passenger side door.  Nothing to see here!

As I got just in front of the truck, the woman locked eyes with me. Her face was familiar but I could not quite place it.  I winked at her then nodded at the guy who was obviously aware I knew I had disrupted his afternoon BJ. 

Of course, I hadn’t thought of this place as a lover’s lane, but I have found condom wrappers and on my very first walk down that road, a discarded pair of dirty panties.  And no, I left them. 

Documentary: The Voyeur

Aunt Clara alerted me to the fact that Netflix was running a documentary called, The Voyeur.  Naturally, I watched it as quickly as I could.  You may recall last year that I wrote a post here about this guy.

So I won’t spoil it for you but the documentary is about the turmoil leading up to the publishing of the book and gives you quite a bit of insight about both Gay Talese, a man I’m fascinated by, and Gerald Foos, a man who gives even a pervert like me the creeps.  What I did not realize at the time of my original post, was that as the book was going to publishing, there was new information that called into question the veracity of some of Mr. Foos’ claims.  That sent Mr. Talese spinning into a meltdown.  The documentary catches it all.

In the end, this book is in my long list of unfinished/unstarted reading backlog but now I think it may jump ahead a few spots.

IGHIH: Glass…

Once again my timing at work prevented me from getting in on a good thing.  Our buddy JD was able to get out of work early and spend an hour and a half hanging out  with my wife, genuinely hoping that I could make it and be part of the good time, but as we all agree, work comes before play.

I was trying to wrap things up in the office and saw that I had missed a note from my wife telling me JD will be at the house when I got home, hurry! By the time I got to my truck and could check the phone, I saw a text from her saying, “Too late.”

I’ve mentioned before that the fact we can’t meet for threesomes often and the fact that the two of them can only meet slightly more often, I think that keeps some mystery to the whole arrangement.  But yes, I wish I could have been home for this one.

My wife told me later that JD popped a little blue pill and after they both had a few beers and talked about family and stuff, they headed to the bedroom, realizing that I wasn’t going to make it home for the full event.

A while back, JD had sent this large glass dildoe that frankly scared the crap out of both of us.  Apparently, when used along with a healthy serving of cunnilingus, it is quite pleasurable.

After several orgasms over her own, my wife says that JD was extremely hard, harder than she had really seen him in years, and she just needed to ride his big, thick cock.  Of course, as she is telling me these details, she was riding my own hard cock.

She mounted him in a reverse cowgirl fashion and played with his balls as he moaned with pleasure.  She says that even though she had already enjoyed a few orgasms from his tongue, the pleasure of really feeling his hard dick without fear that it might lose it was very much a welcome thing.

Before long, JD reported that he was getting close and suggested that she dismount so he could come on her boobs but she insisted she needed to feel him shoot inside her. As soon as she began to describe his dick pulsating in her, I unloaded my own load.

“Too bad you weren’t here.  We were both hoping you would have cleaned up the mess.” She said with a giggle.