Q. Papa: I was dating a really nice guy. In fact, things were perfect in the relationship until we decided to have sex. His pants came off and that’s when my heart broke. While erect, he was smaller than my ring finger. Worse, once inside me, he lasted under 90 seconds. I’ve had tampon applications that brought me more sexual satisfaction. Now he won’t stop calling and texting me, even though I’ve told him repeatedly that I no longer think things are working out.
Am I a horrible person for feeling this way? And is there a nice way to tell a guy his dick is too small and I don’t want to talk to him anymore?–Frowning Vagina in Fresno.
A. Frowning Vagina in Fresno: Your question is actually two questions, so screw you for making me exert twice the effort. That said, you’ve allowed me to write about both penis size and relationships, both of which are web traffic gold, so here are my begrudging thanks.
In reply to your first question, “Am I horrible for feeling this way?” the short answer is “no.” You were dating someone. Since I’m going to play the odds and assume you aren’t a Quaker, that means his pants came off a few weeks into the relationship at most. Had you continued seeing Stewart Little, you would have grown bored and eventually cheated, then beat yourself up for cheating. If part of your happiness involves getting banged so hard that the head of your dude’s dong leaves an impression against the bottom of your lungs, then a man who could wear a thimble as a condom isn’t the right match for you, no matter how nice he is. Better to cut and run now with a minimum of hurt feelings involved.
As for a nice way of telling a guy that his dick is too small to satisfy you and that you never want to speak to him again because of it, you’re in luck, because there is just such a means. It involves grinding together a unicorn horn and eye of newt, then getting an angel to blow its pure, soft breath across the resulting poultice.
If you’re short of one or more of those items, my advice to you is come up with any means you can of dumping the guy that doesn’t mention the diminutive, adorable stature of his cock. There is no action more certain to drive a man into a homicidal frenzy than telling him his penis–the size of which is immutable–is so tiny that you don’t want it anywhere near you (although you’d love to knit it a tiny cap and matching scarf). Walk up to him all bow-legged like a cowboy and tell him you just slept with Shaq. That should do the trick.
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