I was once sitting in a movie theater, waiting for the show to begin. I overheard the two young guys in front of me talking. One had just told the other that he let his girlfriend measure him and she found his 5.5 inch length supremely underwhelming. His buddy berated him, demanding to know he would do such a foolish thing when the correct way was to tell her how big he was, as women were clueless when it came lengths and numbers in general. Meekly, the first guy responded, "I know, I know, but at the time it seemed kinda kinky."
Both my first wife and my current wife have measured me, as have about ten girlfriends. The ruse I played was to complain that the previous girlfriend had gotten a bigger result, probably due to her putting more effort in turning me on. Ah, noting like sexual competition between women.
I once had a good female friend, so good that we called each other bother and sister. One day she got dumped by her boyfriend and I went over to comfort her. As I held her sobbing body, she began feel my crotch. I absolutely didn't to have any benefits with her. Why not? She was cute and sexy, but I wanted to keep her as good friend, not a sex partner. Good friends are much rarer than sex partners. It didn't matter what I wanted, she wanted me and I gave her the most tender fucking I could manage. Well, we became friends with benefits.
After our first fucking, she broke out a small notebook and cloth tape measure. She informed that she kept a log of all the penises that had entered her body. Damn, the list was long, probably close to 40 entries; and she was only 21. In fact, I began to worry that I hadn't worn a condom, as the list included many guys from her trips to the third world and guys she labeled as crazy or druggies. After her thorough measurements, she wrote next to my name, "My bother," which no doubt must have freaked those who later saw her notebook.
One night, while I crashed at her place, having had too much drink to drive, we talked about sex. (She loved hearing about my latest sex exploits.) I asked what sexual experience would she delight in. Her answer was a steamy MMF threesome. She asked if I had male friend with a really big cock, which bothered me a tad, as it sort of implied that mine didn't count. I told her that I had only seen one friend's hard cock and he was big, but was in Europe for the summer. Then I remembered a buddy who talked nonstop about his big eight-incher, his meat bat, his salami...
I gave him the heads-up on the likely threesome, when I brought him over to her apartment the next week. She liked how muscled and dark he was and he liked how blonde and petite she was (he was only 5'7"). I orchestrated the stripping and fondling and sex. An hour later, we were panting and her bed was soaked with our fluids. She was sucking his stiff cock, when she remembered her notebook. She dug out the tape measure. My buddy loudly, sternly proclaimed that she needn't bother, as he was exactly eight inches. She didn't listen to him. She held the taut measure tape to his erect cock and I could easily see that he was just a tad over six inches, 6.5 tops, nothing close to eight. Yet, the way she held the tape, his cock hit the 8 mark, which she dutifully wrote down. Next, she wrapped tape around his shaft and measured 6.25 inches—and she didn't even measure his thickest part and she squeezed the tape too tightly. In other words, she short-changed him in girth.
Well, from that day on, I never believe any cock measurements that women have told me about their previous lovers, other than circumference, which is harder to mess up.
