Now that I've gotten all of the small penis stories out of my system, it's time to talk about some of the biggest ones that I've seen. It's no big secret that my butt has done more laps around the African-American block than I can remember, but some of the biggest penises I've seen in both length and girth were not attached to black men. Although I prefer a man with a penis too large than too small, having a big penis doesn't always mean I will have a good time. I think we all know what happened to that one guy who had sex with a horse.
When I first started going to bars, I was exposed to more older men, which meant I was exposed to a lot more tops. For some reason a lot of men that I know start off as a bottom when they are younger and transform into a top as they grow older. I can't say the same thing will happen to me. In fact, I know it won't. Either way, I remember going to the bar on a few occasions and seeing the same middle eastern gentleman every time. At first, I would pass by him and he would give me a stare letting me know he noticed me, and then some. I never really had the courage to ever go up to him because he looked mad all of the time. One day, I was in the bathroom washing my hands and he happens to exit the bathroom stall. This would have been the perfect opportunity to fart and blame it on him, but unfortunately my stomach was behaving himself that day. I look at myself in the mirror and notice him staring at me, waiting to wash his hands. As I finish rinsing my hands and step over to the air dryer he begins to speak to me.
"I think I see you every time I come here." he said.
"Yeah, I'm sort of an alcoholic." I told him. Luckily, he laughed.
"Well, you're young. I'm sure you just like to have a good time." he said.
"Yeah, that is true." I said. I wanted to remind him that nights and weekends were more about having a good time. We were currently attending happy hour at 6:30 PM, which is for alcoholics, but I didn't want to make it seem like I was currently on step one of the Alcoholics Anonymous program.
"I'm Mustafa." he said, introducing himself. Mustafa isn't his real name, but for the sake of legal reasons, this is what I'll call him. It also helps that he looks like a Mustafa, not to mistake him for Mufasa on Disney's The Lion King.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Caesar. Feel free to say your jokes now." I said. He laughed even though I wasn't joking.
"That's a cool name. Your parents must have been proud to have you." he said. I felt like this was going to go nowhere fast, so I decided to wrap things up.
"Well, who knows." I joked. "I'm gonna go back out. I'll see you out there."
As the day went by and I continued to drop back one long-island after another, I was causing a raucous with my friends, but he stayed alone by himself. I wanted to invite him over, but I had a feeling there was a reason why he was alone. I saw him getting up and walking towards the exit, which was also in my direction. I didn't want to stare at him and make it obvious that I was interested, but I think at this point we both knew we wanted each other. However, he walked out of the bar and didn't even look at me. I was all excited, expecting a number or a wave goodbye, but he didn't even stare at me. I brushed it off my shoulders and continued to make a fool of myself at the bar.
A few days passed and I went to the same bar each day, but hadn't seen him there. At this point, I'd forgotten about him and wasn't expecting to see him any time soon. However, one happy hour evening, I had already had a few Vodka-Sprites and suddenly I noticed Mustafa had been sitting at the bar. The amount of time he had been sitting there was beyond me, but I'm sure it was enough to know I was an annoying drunk. I didn't want to go up to him, because I was too scared of rejection from being such a mess. At one point, however, he went to the bathroom, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to try to make him talk to me by following him in. I go to the bathroom and pretend to pee in the urinal next to a middle-aged white man. I think Whitey noticed that nothing was coming out of my penis so he probably thought I was trying to take a sneek peek at his peacock. I was hoping Whitey would pivot away so I can say, 'don't flatter yourself.' I go over to wash my hands and deliberately take a long time to allow Mustafa to come out while I'm still rinsing. Finally, Mustafa comes out of the stall and I immediately had a smile on my face.
"I think I'm having Deja Vu." I told Mustafa. He chuckled.
"I knew I'd catch you here." said Mustafa. "Do you not work?"
"I work 9 to 5 and go to school so I try to get drunk early so I can pass out early." I answered.
"I used to do the same thing when I was young." he said. "Are you going to be here all weekend?"
"Probably." I answered. "But not this early. Are you?"
"I don't think so. I usually just stay at home on the weekends." He answered.
"Boring!" I attacked. "Someone's getting old." He laughed but I can tell he was slightly offended. "Do you wanna go see a movie this weekend? I promise all you have to do is sit down for a couple of hours and keep your eyes open." He laughed and started to pull out his phone.
"Yeah," he answered. "I think I can do that. Put in your number." I gave myself a hi 5 in my head and dialed my number on his phone. "I'm just about to go home right now. I'll give you a call on Saturday to see if you're still alive." I smiled and wanted to rape him right then and there.
"For sure." I responded and left the bathroom.
He calls me on Saturday and asks me if I wanted to see Clash of the Titans, which is something I felt would be much better if I didn't have to pay for it. I asked him if he wanted to see Date Night because you can't go wrong with Tina Fey. He told me he didn't really want to see it, but said it was okay we watch it.
"You owe me one." he said. I got a little excited since sex is always an acceptable offer for almost any occasion for gay men. I was just hoping he didn't want me to perform fellatio on him during the movie. I wasn't kidding about wanting too see that movie. If I really wanted to have sex during a movie, I would have been more than happy to buy tickets for The Last Song since I would have gotten something out of it.
It turned out Mustafa actually liked the movie and I told him "You're welcome." After the movie, we went straight back to his place because neither of us wanted to waste any time. I remember making out on his bed and feeling something unusually big, but I kept telling myself that it was probably just something in his pocket or that's just how his jeans are. He started to take off my shirt and usually I do the same for the other guy right after, but Mustafa was Iranian so I was expecting him to look something along the lines of Chewbacca from Star Wars or, worse, Cousin It from The Adams Family. He took off his shirt sooner or later and I was relieved to find out he actually waxes most of his body.
We got into a position where we were both laying on our sides facing each other. I was already fully naked minus my socks and I was helping him take off his pants. We were making out with each other while I was doing this, so naturally I had my eyes closed. Even if I had them open I don't think I'd really take the time to kiss and sneak a peek, kiss and sneak a peek, kiss and sneak a peek. As soon as he was as naked as I was, he rolled me onto my back and laid on top of me. As soon as he did this I felt his penis against my butt cheeks. The only way I can describe it accurately is by saying it felt like there was an industrial-sized flashlight trying to work its way inside me. At this point I couldn't blame his jeans or anything inside his pocket, unless he was half kangaroo. But since that wasn't the case, I really had to see what was going on down there. I decided to roll him over onto his back and prepare to perform fellatio on him. I started to go further south and when I reached his chest, with one hand I reached for his penis to begin stroking it. As soon as I got a hold of it, I felt like trying to put my fingers around a bottle of Skyy vodka. I still hadn't seen it yet, but I knew by this time I wasn't dealing with just any man. I reached my final destination and couldn't believe what I saw when I finally got the chance to look at it. I felt like I was staring at a python just when it's about to attack you and eat you whole. I performed fellatio on Mustafa for a little while and then had to get something off my chest.
"Where do you plan on putting this?" I asked. Mustafa laughed, which is a lot better than his member coiling around me and crushing my bones.
"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to." Mustafa reassured. "I don't usually go all the way because I've only met a handful of guys who have been okay with it."
"How thick is it?" I asked.
"About five-and-a-half, six." He answered readily. Obviously he had been asked this question many times before.
"Wow. I'm pretty sure I haven't had anything that thick." I said.
"Do you wanna try it?" He asked. I felt like if I said no I would be saving myself from a lot of pain and suffering. I never planned on having a baby, but I imagined Mustafa's penis would give me the closest experience of it. If I said, yes, however, I was scared that my anus would never be the same. They say after a woman has a baby, her vagina never stays the same. I felt like after letting Mustafa penetrate me I'd have to constantly keep looking for penises of similar girth. Soon enough I'll have to resort to fisting or move to Amsterdam so I can attend fisting parties. But frankly, this seemed like an opportunity I didn't want to pass up, painful or not.
"Yeah, we can try it." I affirmed hesitantly as if I were a boy being invited for a slumber party at Michael Jackson's house.
We started to get down to business and like the gentleman I've never had, he started off slow. It didn't really matter how slow he went because it wouldn't have prevented any pain from happening. I don't think a thick penis will ever amount to the pain of a long penis. If there were any lesser of the two evils, taking a longer penis is definitely less-damaging than a taking a thicker penis. Even though I was on my back, just lying on the bed, I started to sweat on my forehead. Never in my life have I been in so much pain. I felt like he was inside me for years. Every thrust felt like he was expanding my rectum like a balloon. At one point I wondered how long it would take for me to become double-jointed at the pelvis.
He decided to put me out of my misery and allow us both to achieve ejaculation via handjobs since he would have to thrust faster in order to ejaculate inside me. After we both climaxed all over each other, we got up, took a shower, and laid next to each other for a while. We didn't say anything to each other, but sometimes it's nice not to hear someone talk after a while.
"I better head out." I told him suddenly.
"Okay." Mustafa responded. "You can return anytime you want."
"I think I'll have to buy some large anal beads first." I joked.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" he asked. "You seemed fine."
"Well I held back a little." I answered. "I didn't want the neighbors to call the cops. Have you seen my panties?" He pointed over by his dresser where my boxer-briefs were and started putting on my clothes. When I picked up my skinny jeans, I noticed a brown bottle with a liquid inside. At first I thought maybe he was a pharmacist and brought something home with him, but then I thought maybe it was an illegal drug I haven't heard of yet. "What's this?" I asked.
"Oh, hey, where'd you find that?" He asked. He seemed a little happy I found it.
"It was under my clothes." I answered. "What is it?"
"It's amyl." he answered. "You inhale it and opens up all of your blood vessels to make your muscles relax. I was actually looking for this so you can have some."
"So this would've made everything feel better?" I asked.
"Yeah, pretty much." He answered.
I was pissed. I went through what felt like hours of being in labor just so this guy can have a limited amount of pleasure inside me and what did I get out of this? A fuckin' hand job! I could have gotten one of those in a bathroom stall! The whole time he had this secret potion to magically stretch out my asshole and I couldn't even use it?! Ugh... The bottom line of this story is that I need to buy some amyl, buy a bottle of wine, and lock myself in my room for the next year or two.
When I first started going to bars, I was exposed to more older men, which meant I was exposed to a lot more tops. For some reason a lot of men that I know start off as a bottom when they are younger and transform into a top as they grow older. I can't say the same thing will happen to me. In fact, I know it won't. Either way, I remember going to the bar on a few occasions and seeing the same middle eastern gentleman every time. At first, I would pass by him and he would give me a stare letting me know he noticed me, and then some. I never really had the courage to ever go up to him because he looked mad all of the time. One day, I was in the bathroom washing my hands and he happens to exit the bathroom stall. This would have been the perfect opportunity to fart and blame it on him, but unfortunately my stomach was behaving himself that day. I look at myself in the mirror and notice him staring at me, waiting to wash his hands. As I finish rinsing my hands and step over to the air dryer he begins to speak to me.
"I think I see you every time I come here." he said.
"Yeah, I'm sort of an alcoholic." I told him. Luckily, he laughed.
"Well, you're young. I'm sure you just like to have a good time." he said.
"Yeah, that is true." I said. I wanted to remind him that nights and weekends were more about having a good time. We were currently attending happy hour at 6:30 PM, which is for alcoholics, but I didn't want to make it seem like I was currently on step one of the Alcoholics Anonymous program.
"I'm Mustafa." he said, introducing himself. Mustafa isn't his real name, but for the sake of legal reasons, this is what I'll call him. It also helps that he looks like a Mustafa, not to mistake him for Mufasa on Disney's The Lion King.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Caesar. Feel free to say your jokes now." I said. He laughed even though I wasn't joking.
"That's a cool name. Your parents must have been proud to have you." he said. I felt like this was going to go nowhere fast, so I decided to wrap things up.
"Well, who knows." I joked. "I'm gonna go back out. I'll see you out there."
As the day went by and I continued to drop back one long-island after another, I was causing a raucous with my friends, but he stayed alone by himself. I wanted to invite him over, but I had a feeling there was a reason why he was alone. I saw him getting up and walking towards the exit, which was also in my direction. I didn't want to stare at him and make it obvious that I was interested, but I think at this point we both knew we wanted each other. However, he walked out of the bar and didn't even look at me. I was all excited, expecting a number or a wave goodbye, but he didn't even stare at me. I brushed it off my shoulders and continued to make a fool of myself at the bar.
A few days passed and I went to the same bar each day, but hadn't seen him there. At this point, I'd forgotten about him and wasn't expecting to see him any time soon. However, one happy hour evening, I had already had a few Vodka-Sprites and suddenly I noticed Mustafa had been sitting at the bar. The amount of time he had been sitting there was beyond me, but I'm sure it was enough to know I was an annoying drunk. I didn't want to go up to him, because I was too scared of rejection from being such a mess. At one point, however, he went to the bathroom, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to try to make him talk to me by following him in. I go to the bathroom and pretend to pee in the urinal next to a middle-aged white man. I think Whitey noticed that nothing was coming out of my penis so he probably thought I was trying to take a sneek peek at his peacock. I was hoping Whitey would pivot away so I can say, 'don't flatter yourself.' I go over to wash my hands and deliberately take a long time to allow Mustafa to come out while I'm still rinsing. Finally, Mustafa comes out of the stall and I immediately had a smile on my face.
"I think I'm having Deja Vu." I told Mustafa. He chuckled.
"I knew I'd catch you here." said Mustafa. "Do you not work?"
"I work 9 to 5 and go to school so I try to get drunk early so I can pass out early." I answered.
"I used to do the same thing when I was young." he said. "Are you going to be here all weekend?"
"Probably." I answered. "But not this early. Are you?"
"I don't think so. I usually just stay at home on the weekends." He answered.
"Boring!" I attacked. "Someone's getting old." He laughed but I can tell he was slightly offended. "Do you wanna go see a movie this weekend? I promise all you have to do is sit down for a couple of hours and keep your eyes open." He laughed and started to pull out his phone.
"Yeah," he answered. "I think I can do that. Put in your number." I gave myself a hi 5 in my head and dialed my number on his phone. "I'm just about to go home right now. I'll give you a call on Saturday to see if you're still alive." I smiled and wanted to rape him right then and there.
"For sure." I responded and left the bathroom.
He calls me on Saturday and asks me if I wanted to see Clash of the Titans, which is something I felt would be much better if I didn't have to pay for it. I asked him if he wanted to see Date Night because you can't go wrong with Tina Fey. He told me he didn't really want to see it, but said it was okay we watch it.
"You owe me one." he said. I got a little excited since sex is always an acceptable offer for almost any occasion for gay men. I was just hoping he didn't want me to perform fellatio on him during the movie. I wasn't kidding about wanting too see that movie. If I really wanted to have sex during a movie, I would have been more than happy to buy tickets for The Last Song since I would have gotten something out of it.
It turned out Mustafa actually liked the movie and I told him "You're welcome." After the movie, we went straight back to his place because neither of us wanted to waste any time. I remember making out on his bed and feeling something unusually big, but I kept telling myself that it was probably just something in his pocket or that's just how his jeans are. He started to take off my shirt and usually I do the same for the other guy right after, but Mustafa was Iranian so I was expecting him to look something along the lines of Chewbacca from Star Wars or, worse, Cousin It from The Adams Family. He took off his shirt sooner or later and I was relieved to find out he actually waxes most of his body.
We got into a position where we were both laying on our sides facing each other. I was already fully naked minus my socks and I was helping him take off his pants. We were making out with each other while I was doing this, so naturally I had my eyes closed. Even if I had them open I don't think I'd really take the time to kiss and sneak a peek, kiss and sneak a peek, kiss and sneak a peek. As soon as he was as naked as I was, he rolled me onto my back and laid on top of me. As soon as he did this I felt his penis against my butt cheeks. The only way I can describe it accurately is by saying it felt like there was an industrial-sized flashlight trying to work its way inside me. At this point I couldn't blame his jeans or anything inside his pocket, unless he was half kangaroo. But since that wasn't the case, I really had to see what was going on down there. I decided to roll him over onto his back and prepare to perform fellatio on him. I started to go further south and when I reached his chest, with one hand I reached for his penis to begin stroking it. As soon as I got a hold of it, I felt like trying to put my fingers around a bottle of Skyy vodka. I still hadn't seen it yet, but I knew by this time I wasn't dealing with just any man. I reached my final destination and couldn't believe what I saw when I finally got the chance to look at it. I felt like I was staring at a python just when it's about to attack you and eat you whole. I performed fellatio on Mustafa for a little while and then had to get something off my chest.
"Where do you plan on putting this?" I asked. Mustafa laughed, which is a lot better than his member coiling around me and crushing my bones.
"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to." Mustafa reassured. "I don't usually go all the way because I've only met a handful of guys who have been okay with it."
"How thick is it?" I asked.
"About five-and-a-half, six." He answered readily. Obviously he had been asked this question many times before.
"Wow. I'm pretty sure I haven't had anything that thick." I said.
"Do you wanna try it?" He asked. I felt like if I said no I would be saving myself from a lot of pain and suffering. I never planned on having a baby, but I imagined Mustafa's penis would give me the closest experience of it. If I said, yes, however, I was scared that my anus would never be the same. They say after a woman has a baby, her vagina never stays the same. I felt like after letting Mustafa penetrate me I'd have to constantly keep looking for penises of similar girth. Soon enough I'll have to resort to fisting or move to Amsterdam so I can attend fisting parties. But frankly, this seemed like an opportunity I didn't want to pass up, painful or not.
"Yeah, we can try it." I affirmed hesitantly as if I were a boy being invited for a slumber party at Michael Jackson's house.
We started to get down to business and like the gentleman I've never had, he started off slow. It didn't really matter how slow he went because it wouldn't have prevented any pain from happening. I don't think a thick penis will ever amount to the pain of a long penis. If there were any lesser of the two evils, taking a longer penis is definitely less-damaging than a taking a thicker penis. Even though I was on my back, just lying on the bed, I started to sweat on my forehead. Never in my life have I been in so much pain. I felt like he was inside me for years. Every thrust felt like he was expanding my rectum like a balloon. At one point I wondered how long it would take for me to become double-jointed at the pelvis.
He decided to put me out of my misery and allow us both to achieve ejaculation via handjobs since he would have to thrust faster in order to ejaculate inside me. After we both climaxed all over each other, we got up, took a shower, and laid next to each other for a while. We didn't say anything to each other, but sometimes it's nice not to hear someone talk after a while.
"I better head out." I told him suddenly.
"Okay." Mustafa responded. "You can return anytime you want."
"I think I'll have to buy some large anal beads first." I joked.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" he asked. "You seemed fine."
"Well I held back a little." I answered. "I didn't want the neighbors to call the cops. Have you seen my panties?" He pointed over by his dresser where my boxer-briefs were and started putting on my clothes. When I picked up my skinny jeans, I noticed a brown bottle with a liquid inside. At first I thought maybe he was a pharmacist and brought something home with him, but then I thought maybe it was an illegal drug I haven't heard of yet. "What's this?" I asked.
"Oh, hey, where'd you find that?" He asked. He seemed a little happy I found it.
"It was under my clothes." I answered. "What is it?"
"It's amyl." he answered. "You inhale it and opens up all of your blood vessels to make your muscles relax. I was actually looking for this so you can have some."
"So this would've made everything feel better?" I asked.
"Yeah, pretty much." He answered.
I was pissed. I went through what felt like hours of being in labor just so this guy can have a limited amount of pleasure inside me and what did I get out of this? A fuckin' hand job! I could have gotten one of those in a bathroom stall! The whole time he had this secret potion to magically stretch out my asshole and I couldn't even use it?! Ugh... The bottom line of this story is that I need to buy some amyl, buy a bottle of wine, and lock myself in my room for the next year or two.
