messageman

This thread is intended to give all those reading this a thorough understanding of what brought me to where I stand now with regards to penile enlargement. It is not intended to act as an advocation for any enlargement technique or doctor. By the same token, it is not meant to be detraction of any particular enlargement technique or doctor either. It is just a very honest account of my journey. I feel that many of you will be able to relate to it… and it will, in many cases, serve as an educational tool (albeit an anecdotal and unscientific one), serving to help people make rational, informed decisions about penile surgery. My postings will appear as a serial journal, over the course of several weeks (I’m guessing). These postings are also admittedly self-serving in the sense that they will help me reflect on the decisions I have made…And of course they will be cathartic in many ways…. But perhaps most importantly, by helping others, I will be able to have the consolation with the knowledge that all my anguish, trouble, and pain have not been in vain.
Before I begin, I think it is best for me to give you some basic facts about myself.

Race: I am Caucasian,
Height: 6 feet, 1 inch
Age: 42
Education: Graduate school
Job: Business…. Solid, well paying job

Penis Stats.
Before first surgery:
Flaccid Length: 3.8 inches
Flaccid girth: Not recorded
Erect Length: 6.3 inches
Erect girth: 5 inches


Chapter 1

Where to begin? Well, I guess I should start when I first actually started becoming aware of my penis and how it compared to other boys my age. I guess it would have to be back in junior high school. I was 13 or 14 years old and we all had to start showering after gym class together. I remember, to my amazement, that some of the boys already had hair under their arms and in their pubic region. I didn’t have one hair! As I recall, size was not an issue at the beginning for me. My main fear was that everyone was going to see that I had no pubic hair. I somehow would manage to find a way to not shower and exit the change room without other students noticing. This would happen weekly. I would however stay in the change room long enough to notice that the boys who had not hit puberty quite yet would have to endure their share of ribbing and name calling. I had indeed made the right decision to not shower!


One day after basketball practice at school, one of the other players (a tall, lanky guy) proceeded to take off his uniform and enter the shower. When he did this, a hush filled the entire change room. This guy had an enormous flaccid penis. I know how memories can be distorted over time, but I swear this guys penis must have been 8 or 9 inches long flaccid…And he was only 14 years old! If there was any one point that I could pinpoint where the genesis of my complex about penis size occurred, it was at this moment. This guy literally was 4 or 5 times bigger than me flaccid. The entire change room then erupted into laughter…Not me though…I sat on the change room bench, and concluded (incorrectly) that my penis was of an insufficient size. This torture would go on for all of basketball season. This well endowed guy would (like clockwork), take off his clothes and shower in front of us…Not surprisingly, most of the other guys stopped showering (when he was there at least)…so we would just watch (out of the corner of our eyes) this guy…I am pretty sure that I was not the only one traumatized by this…Whatever happened to this guy? Did he become the Don Juan of our century? I have no idea. He ended up moving to another part of the country at the end of the year. Like a puff of smoke and he was gone. Thank God, I don’t think I could have endured it during high school too…A constant reminder of my inadequacy…

I finally started to hit puberty at the end of grade 8 and developed into a big, strapping young boy. I was never overly athletic, but I was a good looking kid (if I do say so myself)…I also had good grades…My family was upper middle class, and they provided me with a loving, supportive environment. I had everything going for me.

Up to the time I was 17, I managed, by some miracle, to not let any of my friends or classmates see my penis. By this point I had started, in an unhealthy, obsessive way, to worry about my penis size. Again, my penis size flaccid was probably about 3 inches (at that time)…so completely normal. But I was sure it was undersized. It didn’t help that I was quite tall, making my penis appear small in proportion to my body. I would spend hours in bookstores and libraries researching about penis size. Worse though were  pornographic books and movies. I would see these gargantuan penises and get a lump my throat…thinking I would never be able to satisfy a woman with my pathetic one.

I remember the day I finally debuted my penis in front of my friends. I had started to weight lift and would often go to the gym with my friends after school. The gym had a shower and Jacuzzi. and it was just proper gym etiquette to take a shower after working out. There was no escaping it; I had to take a shower with my friends. I thought, well, my penis doesn’t look so bad when I’m relaxed...and it looks good when I have a bit of “a chub”…So my plan was to “chub up” just before I entered the shower. I left the weight training area and proceeded to the change room…I undressed to my underwear and told my friends that I had to go to the toilet. I went to the toilet and tried to “chub up” by massaging (masturbating) myself. Unfortunately, my penis was not having any of it. And did what it always does in stressful situations…Retract and shrivel…Oh my gosh, now my penis was even smaller than it usually is! I thought about just not showering and going home…but figured that would look too conspicuous…so I gathered up all my courage, swallowed my pride…and entered the shower area. By the time I entered all my friends had finished showering and were relaxing in the Jacuzzi…This was the absolute worst-case scenario. Their eyes fixed on me as I stood under the faucet of the shower. I somehow managed to garner the courage to take the towel off…and… took a very quick shower…Of course the shower water was cold on top of everything…adding to my penis problems…I then made my way to the Jacuzzi and jumped in. Nobody made a comment at the time and life went on…A week later though, when I was getting dressed after gym class (of course no shower), a friend of mine who saw me naked the week before asked me why I didn’t shower after gym class…I told him that I just didn’t have the time…Then he said something that shook me terribly…He said “Don’t worry about your size too much; my dick is small too” …All my worries and suspicions were confirmed; I did have a small penis! My life was ruined. Incidentally, the guy who said this to me really and truly did have a small penis! I couldn’t believe we were being lumped together.

Throughout high school I continued to avoid the showers as much as possible and my obsession with penis size continued. I would religiously measure my penis every day after school. It was a system…I would masturbate, measure, then take meticulous notes of flaccid and erect lengths Girth was never a consideration at this time for me. By the time I was 18 my penis had basically finished growing…Flaccid length (3.8 inches), erect length (6. 3 inches).."How sad", I thought. Even though all the books and articles (literally hundreds) that I read said I was average or even above average, I was sure they were lying (just to make us "needle dicks" feel good about ourselves) because of firsthand evidence (junior high school guy) in the locker room and adult filmso movies! How was I ever going to satisfy a girl?
Needless to say, I never had a girlfriend in high school. It wasn’t due only to my penis size issues (though they didn’t help), but rather to my shy and awkward personality.

It wasn’t until university that I finally met my first girlfriend…And that’s when my penis size issues went from theoretical to practical concerns…

Chapter 2

I met my first girlfriend three weeks before I was to head off to university. I had had basically no experience with the opposite sex and had been looking forward to all the opportunities waiting for me as a freshman at a large university. Fate intervened early though…I met “Brenda” through friends, got her number, made a bumbling phone call…and got the date. I was intensely shy and it took me a few dates to even work up the courage to kiss her. We were both complete virgins and had no idea what to do. Remember, this was back in the non-Internet 1980s. Sex was much more of a mystery…much less talked about. However…nature indeed took its course…and by the second month we had started regularly “parking” and making out. At first it was just talking and holding hands…This gradually moved onto kissing…then onto French kissing…Then I got her top off, and then her bottoms…It was magical. The mysteries of the female anatomy were being revealed to me in the most magnificent way.

Unfortunately, for Brenda, I was not so accommodating when she tried to undo my pants. In fact, I had no intention of undoing my pants. I was terrified she was going to take one look at my dick and giggle. Yes, I know she was a virgin…And most likely in that day and age she hadn’t really been exposed to adult pornography and all those monstrous penises…but I felt… so inadequate. I remember at that time reading a woman’s magazine where a reader wrote in and explained how she would be able to determine the size of a man’s penis by leaning up against him and gently touching his crotch. Words that were bantered around included such things as “cucumber” and “large banana”… I remember thinking that if she were to do that to me, she would feel something that would be akin to a package of “Rolos”…Would a woman find that sexy? I didn’t think so. As a result of all this, I started becoming even more and more obsessed about the penis size issue. I would spend endless hours in the university library (when I should have been spending time on my studies) researching penis size.

Brenda started becoming more aggressive during our make out sessions…She would (in a playful way) try to touch my penis and would, in a seductive voice, ask me if I wanted her to do “anything”. I would tell her that I would prefer to wait because if she were to unbutton my pants, I would have trouble controlling myself. Of course this was all untrue…I just didn’t want her to see my penis!

Finally, around the 3rd month of dating, I had to let her finally “see” “it”. She naturally was finding it odd that I wouldn’t even let her touch my penis through my jeans…so, I finally promised the next week I would “acquiesce”. Beside the “size” issue was another major issue…The fact that because of my unhealthy obsession and basic neurosis regarding penis size, I was unable to get fully hard in stressful situations…And any intimate encounter was “stressful”. What was I to do? For the last three months I had been given the wondrous gift…basically full reign… of a beautiful virgin’s body. What would she get? An undersized, shriveled up, gelatinous glob…I had five days before we were to meet…What to do? Of course, back to the books of the university library, feeding my ridiculous neurotic obsession!





I remember the day well…It was in November…sunny but cool…It was in late morning of a Saturday. We were walking in a forested area and just talking…I was dreading the evening (penis time)…We were holding hands and we were miles from anyone else….She leaned over and kissed me….French kissed me…Bong! I got a major woody…I thought “well…now is as good a time as any”…not really (it was in a forest after all) …but hey, I was 18 and an idiot….I quickly unzipped my pants and let her finally see my “manhood” (before I lost the erection). She squeezed it and said…”Wow, that is big”…I’m not sure if she was sincere with that comment (it was after all the first one she had seen to my knowledge)..or just massaging my ego…but it was the nicest, most complimentary thing anybody had ever said to me…I was in heaven. All my apprehensions disintegrated and for the next few weeks it was my turn to be on the receiving end of sexual exploration. It was all so magnificent.

Slowly but surely things were building towards intercourse. We had decided that it was best for her to get on the pill for when we eventually started to have sex. Back then, getting pregnant meant basically having the child…And there was no way we were ready for that. Heavy petting was fine but the idea of intercourse was very intimidating. I was sure that when we finally did, I would finally be exposed for having an insuffiently sized penis. Yes, her “your penis is big” comment...although very encouraging…was unable to completely repair the years of damage my neurotic obsession caused…I was therefore determined to put off sexual intercourse as long as possible…I managed to stave it off a few months because that’s how long you have to generally wait before “the pill” is ready to work…This was the perfect excuse.

We would spend hours on oral sex. At times, Brenda would guide my penis toward her vagina, indicating to me that she was absolutely fine with me entering her…However, at the very thought of doing that, and the potential failure it represented, I would lose my erection. One time, I was pleasing her with my fingers and she grabbed both sides of my head and said “if you want to make love to me right now, I won’t stop you”. I grabbed her arms and said “There’s nothing I would like to do more, but we should wait until it’s completely safe”. Of course that was BS. I just didn’t have the confidence to do it.

Finally by Christmas there was no escaping sexual intercourse. The doctor gave Brenda and I the green light… and the romantic season of Christmas was upon us. I had three weeks off from school and we were together almost every single day.
One day she came over to my house when my parents weren’t home. This was a very rare occurrence,having a bedroom all to ourselves. Up to that point, most of our romantic encounters happened on my father’s car seats…If my father only knew!

Brenda made her way to my bed lay down and said, ”I’ve been waiting my waiting my whole life for this moment”. “Holy crap!” I thought to myself. “”the pressure is on”…Because of the anxiety, my penis started to deflate (just as I feared)….I jumped under the covers and said something to effect “let’s take this slow and enjoy every minute”…Not this time for Brenda; she wanted “PENIS”.. I was limp at best but still attempted to enter her. What surprised me was how easy it was to get inside. I always hear about how the first time is very difficult to enter a woman…Well, mine went in with little or no friction. In fact, to my utter horror, she said the thing that is usually only associated with jokes…She said “is it in?”…I said “no”…which wasn’t true… It was fully in…I took my penis out and said “let’s try this again later when I more relaxed”.
My worst fears were realized (again), I had put my penis in her and instead of getting that pained expression of joy on her face…she didn’t even know it was in her… She lost her virginity but didn’t even notice!
How devastating.
In retrospect, as an aficionado of penis size (now), I realize now this was basically due to the fact that I wasn’t fully hard...and not because my penis was too small…but there would have been no explaining this to me at that time. As far as I was concerned, I was incapable of satisfying a woman due to my small penis size

My subsequent attempts the following weeks were not much more successful…My penis was generally less than rock hard when we would try to make love, and she there was generally little or no reaction from her. And this was a girl who would easily orgasm with my fingers or my tongue. Finally, I asked her how the sex was. She replied, “Well…it’s nothing to write home about”. I felt destroyed…I felt I was worthless as a lover…and therefore as a man….And this was all due to my pathetic excuse for a penis (at least I thought it was).

Fortunately, over time, sex did get better…I managed to be able to get fully hard… but only when Brenda was on top. She even started to cum regularly (from my penis). However, I was unable to properly have missionary style sex because I would tense up and lose my erection. Doggy style was hit and miss. I do think on many levels she wasn’t satisfied. She must have been aware that I was uptight, that my penis was often limp…and because I had such little experience, I just didn’t know what I was doing….

Brenda and I broke up two years later. In fact, it was I who dumped her. Even though I was deficient (or so I thought) in the penis department, I was attractive enough to the opposite sex that they were flirting with me all the time at university. Nature was calling and I wanted to explore what was out there. In the back of my mind though, there was always that belief that I didn’t quite measure up. How would other girls react to my insufficient size. I was willing to risk it…all in the name of sowing my seeds.

Chapter 3

Soon after Brenda and I broke up (actually, almost immediately), I was exploring my newfound singleness…I had been anticipating the breakup for a couple of months and had laid down significant (social) groundwork, so that the move would be seamless…Yes, I was a bit of a jerk, but I was being governed by a force stronger than anything in the universe…P***y.

“Carmen” was extremely attractive and had been flirting with me since my sophomore year. I would often go to the local university dance bar and she made it quite clear I could take her home any time I wanted…She wasn’t trashy…and she was a brilliant student…but I’m sure she had seen her fair share of penises…Something that, of course, figured into my “mating” assessment. Nonetheless, she was just too hot to pass up.
I remember clearly, it was a cool (Thursday) October evening…Thursdays were always the rocking nights at the University and I was in the bar as usual with my friends. U2 was playing in the background, and she was hanging around near my table…I was tipsy and had my courage up...and after a little bit of small talk, asked her to go for a walk outside. She agreed to that and we had a beautiful stroll under the moonlit night…When I say “we”, I mean Carmen, myself…and that unpredictable package of “Rolos” in my pants…That third party always figured prominently one way or the other…

We eventually found the way to her dorm room and started making out…One thing led to another, as they most always do…Incidentally, this girl had the biggest breasts I have ever encountered in my life…They must have been at least “F” or even “G” cups…She actually had a contraption under bra to keep her breasts from spilling out…Anyway, I started to get into foreplay…necking, “massaging”, even oral sex (on her). Not Carmen though…She was interested in only one thing…INTERCOURSE….She was fumbling with my pants…The whole time, of course, instead of enjoying this magical time with a horny, sexy, well endowed, brilliant young woman. I was just concerned about what she would think of my penis…. And, of course, as a result of this worry, my penis (The Rolos) deflated into the gelatinous blob I was so familiar with….I took off my pants and suggested we should take a shower (to stall for time)…Not Carmen, she wanted PENIS…She grabbed it (the blob) before I could stop her…At that instant, I saw a change in her face…It was a mix of disappointment, resignation …and even amusement. I immediately switched into damage control…I tried to engage in oral sex…but she was having none of that by then…She said, that “we didn’t know each other well enough for that”. I remember thinking that “…”but we know each other well enough for intercourse?” The whole situation was rapidly going from bad to worse… Finally, I decided to put my semi-hard penis into her in hopes that it would get hard while thrusting…. Again, as with my first girlfriend Brenda, there was very little friction when I entered her…Actually, it was like entering a cave…Nonetheless, I focused on those huge, gorgeous breasts and tight young skin…and miraculously started getting somewhat hard.. I came after about 5 minutes of desperate thrusting. I was able to at least finish the job…a minor victory!


I’m pretty sure though that Carmen was quite unimpressed. The only time I even saw a hint of pleasure on her face …or it could have been a merciful acknowledgement that she felt something…. was just before I ejaculated. Probably the only point during sex that my penis was actually fully hard.

Then came the awkward “afterglow”…I tried to hold and caress her, but she just pulled away and said that it was “getting late”. “Getting late? 10:30pm is late?”, I remember thinking to myself. I didn’t even bother to ask to use her shower. I just got dressed quickly and made an exit…I remember kissing her on the cheek as I left…She certainly wasn’t hiding her disappointment and even seemed to enjoy making it known to me…

As I walked back to my dorm, I was thinking to myself that if I had given her 2 hours of heavy thrusting with a 10 inch penis, I’m absolutely sure her farewell to me would have been much more gracious. Yes, my “inadequate” penis struck yet again.

There is something depressing about autumn on the east coast…The cold, cloudy weather, back to school, the slow gradual march to winter…. This failed sexual encounter made it so much worse though. I really felt like giving up on sex completely. If anything, females around the globe (or at least my university), could breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Again, in retrospect, size was probably never the issue…It was most likely the rigidity of my penis and the poor technique that resulted from my self conscious, neurotic behavior. But perception is reality and this issue became a huge beast in my life to contend with. Knowing what I know now, I should have made a b-line for badly needed psychological therapy as this problem was probably due to a manifestation of self esteem issues and stress caused by other things going on in my life. There would have been no way of convincing me that this was a psychological issue at that time though…I was absolutely sure it was a penis size issue and there would have been no way of convincing me otherwise.

I was always a problem-fixing time of guy…and this penis size issue was a problem that wasn’t going to go away. What to do? Ok…enlarge it….But one has to remember that this was the early 1990s and there were very few options for penis enlargement. There was, of course, pumping, but all the research I had done on it said that the gains were very temporary and could lead to vascular damage easily, making erections more difficult...So I decided to dismiss that idea. OK, next was stretching. The research I had done on this method offered only anecdotal evidence (very little) pointing to minimal gains…. This however was better than nothing I remember thinking to myself…so I started stretching my penis every day for about 30 minutes (by tugging on it). I did this unfailingly for about 6 months. The results…Zero gains…

Next was jelqing…and very long story short…. I got the same results…Zero gains…

I became convinced that all the enlargement methods were basically bogus and there was no way to enlarge one’s penis permanently. Resignation and a sense of hopelessness started to set in. I was convinced I would forever be saddled with an undersized penis and there was nothing I could do about it. I remember, whenever I had the opportunity to make a wish…whether it be throwing a coin in wishing well, spotting a first star at night, or blowing out candles on my birthday cake…and others would be wishing for a loved one to recover from a serious illness or wishing for world peace…I would, you guessed it, be wishing for a large penis. My neurosis would never let me completely give up hope after all..

By this time (1994), I was a graduate student studying economics. I was also working at a bank (part-time). There was plenty of action to be had and I had my share of it. By the time I was 26 years old, I probably had been with about 7 females. I did start to relax a bit when I would engage in sexual activity with a girl…and sex would certainly get better over time if I slept with the same one. But truthfully, when I had intercourse, I was never really very good. At best I was adequate. I didn’t ever get any compliments…then again, no real (direct) complaints. Honestly, rarely would I get any reaction at all when my penis was inside a partner. I seldom would hear a girl moan and never once heard one scream (in ecstasy) when I was inside her. Being in a dorm, when I was in my first few years at university, I heard my fair of moaning and screaming from other dorm rooms. What did they have that I didn’t? And of course there were mainstream movies…not to mention porno movies to reinforce my complex … No, something was wrong, and that something was my penis!

My “surgical” journey started off like just like any regular day for me. I was on the train going to work (by this time I had finished graduate school and was working full time). I was reading the newspaper…and out of the corner of my eye, caught a story about a cosmetic surgeon who was pioneering a new surgery for penis elongation on the east coast. This was what I was waiting for; it was the answer to my greatest dream! The article detailed how the enlargement method was first used in China, and that it could lengthen a penis by 1.5 inches. 1.5 inches? That would almost give me an 8-inch penis!
That would make me a sex God! All my problems would be solved!

Of course, I neglected to focus on the “pioneer stages” part of the article. Focus on the positive and completely ignore any negative aspects…A misguided philosophy I would adhere to throughout my entire quest for penis enlargement. I was determined to pay this doctor a visit! I went home, and made a (consultation) appointment for the next week.

The day arrived and I started off on the long drive to the office. I remember how nervous I was when I was parking the car. Finally, I would be face to face with someone to discuss my insecurities about my penis size…and hopefully find a solution. It was indeed an important day. I slowly made my way up the stairs to his clinic. I opened the door. I don’t know what I was expecting to see in there, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw. There were about five or six young women in the waiting room reading magazines. Most of them I later learned were there for nose or breast augmentation. I entered and made my way to the receptionist. All the while I was completely convinced that everybody in the waiting room knew why I was there. The receptionist was kind enough and confirmed my name…Then she asked me the one thing I thought she wasn’t going to…”Why are you here to see the doctor?” I didn’t expect this because I had had already told the office over the phone the answer to this. The receptionist was young, attractive, and probably around my age (at the time)…I was mortified…I didn’t know what to say, so I showed her the cutout newspaper article. She looked at it and it “Oh…got it”. She then asked me to sit down and told me the doctor would see me in a little while…”OK, got past hurdle one”, I thought to myself…Soon afterward I found myself waiting in a small consultation room for the doctor. The doctor walked in while at the same time looking at the form I had just filled out …He looked exactly like his picture in the newspaper but about a foot shorter than I imagined he would...”Would he be performing the surgery with stilts on? ”, I thought.

Our conversation went something like this:
”So, you’re interested in penis enlargement?”
“Yes”
“Why?”
“I believe I have a small penis”
“How big is your penis?”
“3.8 inches”
“Erect?”
“No flaccid”
“How big is it erect”
“6.3 inches”
“That’s a big penis”
“I don’t think so…at least not for my height”
“OK, let me see your penis”

I then pulled my pants down…He tugged on my penis a little, made some notes, and told me to do my pants up…and that was it.

I was then invited into his office, where he told me more about the surgery …He said that because of my young age and general good health, I was the “perfect surgical candidate”. A 1.5-inch gain was not only a possibility, but rather a probability…He also added that because of the “high demand” for this surgery, it would be a good idea to book as soon as possible (as in that day) for surgery.

Just as he was doing this, a young woman stormed into his office screaming that she was going to sue him for a poorly done breast enhancement surgery. He looked at her unflinchingly and said “Jennifer, I’ll be with you in a few minutes; I’m with another patient”. She left the office but started causing a scene in the waiting room. He apologized and asked me to sit down while he tended to this situation. I actually didn’t sit down but wandered around his office looking at the various books, journals….and my personal file….It was actually laid out, open on his desk. The usual info was written in it, including general observations about my state of health and character. It was exactly what I would expect a preliminary medical report to look like…There was however one glaring detail that both confused and disturbed me: In the section that was listed as “Condition”, the doctor wrote “micro penis”. Micro penis? I knew I wasn’t John Holmes…but micro penis? This was simply not true.

In retrospect there were loads of warning signs all over the place…The hard sell technique, the hysterical girl in the waiting room, the BS “micro penis” comment in an official medical document…Did I choose to listen to any of it? Hell no. As I mentioned in other posts on this site, denial is an extremely powerful force. Full steam ahead!


Chapter 4

The surgery was scheduled for Dec. 21st. 1994. Only one week from my initial consultation. I was excited…In fact, unbelievably, I had very few concerns at all. Although the doctor did point out that there were risks involved, he downplayed them… I put all my faith in the good doctor’s word. After all, he was a medical doctor...and aren’t doctors held to a higher standard than the rest of us?

Prior to the operation, I had to a have a general physical and blood work done. The doctor’s office facilitated all this and it was all very quick and easy.

There was a bit of a catch though. The doctor required that I have someone come to the office to pick me up after the surgery. I think it was required by law. Anyway, nobody (other than the clinic staff) knew I was having this performed… Absolutely nobody…especially my friends or family. So what was I to do? I told the office that I was having my sister pick me up with her car outside the office after the surgery…Which was actually the case. The story I told my sister was that I was having dental work done and that (because of the anesthetic), I needed someone to drive me home. OK…That snag was taken care of.

Finally “P” day came. I got up at 5am and caught the 6am train into the city. At 8:00am, I arrived at the office (he had a surgical room in his building), where a receptionist/nurse was waiting for me.
“Are you Pat”
“Yes”
“Could you bring your valuables into this room”
“Sure”
I put my stuff into a small locker
“Could you come into this room?”
It was an operating room with all the fixings….monitors, gurneys, surgical instruments…
“And can you put these on”
It was the attire I was to wear during surgery.

I had been sitting on the bed for about 30 minutes when I heard the (muffled) voice of the doctor in another room…getting louder and clearer as he approached the room…The door swung open…
“Good morning Pat! Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be doctor”
As I lay on the operating table, with a catheter in my arm and the nurses and anesthesiologist busily working around me and a drug induced euphoria started to envelop me…
I recall a single, momentary, fleeting moment of clarity…“What the hell am I doing?”…Then everything went black.

I woke up groggy and disorientated…Looking at a huge black clock on the wall (the kind they have in elementary schools), I couldn’t believe it was the afternoon…It honestly felt like I had just went under a second before. The nurse was slapping my face “Pat, Pat, Pat”…The doctor was there…He was bandaging my penis and taking pictures. “We’ve added 2 inches to your penis!”. “A new record for me”…”Congratulations to both of us”, I thought to myself.. At that point I was just interested in getting my bearings though…I lay there and the nurse asked me when my sister was picking me up. I said 4pm. The nurse then told me it was 3:30pm, so I had better start getting my things to go. When I told the nurse I was ready to go, she looked at me and asked me where my sister was. I told her I was meeting her outside. The nurse looked perplexed and spoke to me like I was mentally challenged. “No, that’s not how it works here Pat. I have to make sure that somebody is with you...We can’t have you going home alone.” We finally came to a compromise whereby the nurse accompanied me to my sister’s car…, which was parked outside (30 minutes late…just like my sister!)

And before I knew it, I was back in my own bed. Still groggy as hell…but one more hurdle completed…The biggest hurdle…Surgery!

When I woke up the next morning, I was still a bit disorientated…I couldn’t sleep well because of the nocturnal erections I was having throughout the night...I was on pain medication but obviously not enough. I slowly made my way to the washroom for my “morning pee”, and pulled down my track pants (I hadn’t taken them off since I put them on after the surgery the night before)...I held my bandaged penis as I started to urinate…. Two things of note here: One is that the pain was excruciating…I had never felt that type of pain ever in my life…It was like pissing razor blades. Second, is the fact that most of my urine ended up on the toilet seat, floor, and wall…It was a miracle how little urine actually made it into the bowl…Perhaps if I had aimed at the wall, the urine would have gone into the bowl?”

Afterward, as I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, holding my penis…I had to admit, my penis did look bigger. It absolutely looked thicker (due only to the swelling that would eventually disappear and leave me with my average girth)…but what about the length? I was eager to measure this amazing “2-inch” gain the doctor spoke of. I took out a ruler…The same ruler that had been with me through it all, taking all those obsessive measurements throughout my teen years and early twenties…We were a team…We had been through the trenches together and now my brother-in-arms was with me to finally celebrate victory! Even though my penis was completely bandaged, I could make it out enough to measure it flaccid…And the results were in…My new flaccid penis measured 5 inches! Not quite a 2-inch gain, but I was satisfied nonetheless. Next was the erect measurement (the measurement that mattered the most to me)…But for this measurement, I had to wait until I was erect…There was no way I was going to masturbate, so I had to wait for one of those “hard as a rock” nocturnal erections that were keeping me up at night…So, I fell back to sleep…Sure enough, 45 minutes later…bong…My erection was there…I hurriedly went into the washroom and got out my trusty ruler…And….my new erect measurement was… 6.75 inches!….6.75 inches? According to my math, a 6.3 inch erect penis with a 2 inch gain= an 8.3 inch penis…Where was the rest of this gain?
I felt…deflated…
Don’t get me wrong…Half an inch was better than nothing…especially to a neurotic, ‘obsessed with penis size’ mind like mine…but it was still disappointing…I was sure there was an explanation for this.

I visited the doctor the next day…Before I left for the doctor’s office (I drove this time), I was surprised by how I was able to get around just one day after surgery…Of course the pain was there, but I was able to walk short distances, drive…and do most everyday things.

My penis was still very swollen, and under the bandages I could see that it was terribly bruised …A color purple I had never seen before.

Incidentally, I started to lose the self conscious feeling I (understandably) initially had when I would go into the doctor’s office…I wasn’t that embarrassed to look at the receptionist in the eyes anymore or worry about what other patients were thinking…After all, they (the other patients) were most likely there for vanity reasons too, I thought.

I sat there eagerly waiting for my name to be called. I remember another guy…he must have been in his early fifties… saying to me “I’m getting my stitches out today”…I said “Good for you”…Here I was, two weeks before that I had never talked about my penis size issues with anyone, and now I am talking to complete strangers about my enlargement surgery…I had come a long way in a short time (no pun intended).

The receptionist called my name and I moved to the ever more familiar examination room. The muffled voice was growing louder and louder…the door swung open and…

“Hi Pat! How are you feeling today”
“Great doctor” I was always a bit of a kiss-ass…and I desperately wanted the doctor to like me and not be disappointed by any lack of progress or concern. There are probably deep seeded psychological reasons for this too (wholly unrelated to penis size), but that’s perhaps for another journal.

The doctor continued…
“Wow”, that surgery went wonderfully”…Special note here: In my personal experience, I’ve learned that, generally, when a cosmetic surgeon says something, it needs to be reinterpreted.
The following is a general rule of thumb:
Wonderful/Excellent= Very Good
Very Good= Good
Good/Well= Not so well (concerning)
Not so well/Not so good= badly (Panic time)
Badly= You’re screwed

“Great…So, I got a 2 inch gain?”
“At least”
“Well…actually… I measured last night erect and there was only half an inch gain”
“Oh, that’s because the rest of the penis has to fall down…It may take a few weeks for that”, the doctor said matter-of-factly. Honestly though, this was the first time I had heard about the “falling down” part.

“Awesome”…I was very relieved (after all, doctors never shade the truth) and the images of having an 8.5 inch were dancing in my head again. “Happy days are here again”, I thought to myself. It was Christmas time, I was on holiday, and my penis was bigger… What else could a 25-year-old guy want?

For the next week, the healing continued unabated…Exactly how the doctor said it would. I was physically very functional. Finally, it was time to take the bandages off….
On Dec. 28th, I sat waiting in the examining room. The doctor walked in and we had a little chat about the awful weather and the dangers of icy roads. Then he proceeded to unveil my new “gigantic” penis. Slowly the bandages came off, and the doctor, looking like a proud father, smiled and said “perfect”. I looked down and saw something that was certainly different than what I went into surgery with. My penis was certainly longer flaccid…But ‘perfect” was not the word that sprung to my mind. It looked “perfectly” mangled to me. The doctor had released the suspensory ligament of the penis and advanced the pubic skin using a large VY advancement flap…As a result, the ridges were curled up (what are commonly know as dog ears). There was also hair along my shaft.
This was all explained to me before the surgery…but it looked a lot more “mangled” than I had expected. “The pictures (of other patients) I had been shown to before the surgery looked a lot more aesthetically pleasing than this mess”, I remember thinking to myself. I didn’t know what to say to the doctor. I certainly didn’t want to ruin this special moment for him (eternal kiss-ass), so I just smiled and said “great”.

I remember driving home and rationalizing that having a mangled looking penis was the price I had to pay for having a gigantic one. Besides, it was still early in the healing process; the deformity wasn’t that bad…And women wouldn’t even notice after their eyes fixated on my 8.5 inch penis! They would be too crazy in lust. I was on top of the world again. Yes, it was true that those 2 inches (erect) hadn’t yet materialized, but it was just a matter of a few weeks before they were to magically appear. The doctor had looked me straight in the eye and basically promised me…And of course doctors always tell the truth, don’t they?

The New Year brought another change in my life. I was being transferred to Europe for my job. Shortly before I left, I paid the doctor one last visit. The stitches were out and everything looked “excellent”. In fact, he said I was the “most successful” case he had done up to that point. He also assured me that my penis would fall further down…and once the swelling was completely gone, I would see those inches in erect form too. Those European women were in for a treat!

Weeks went by in cold Europe…but those inches never came. I had actually tested my “equipment’ eight weeks post surgery…How did it go? Well, foreplay was completely different because I spent a great deal of energy making sure my partner couldn’t fully see my penis because it looked…. deformed. This also meant that I had to always have sex in a dark room. Fellatio was out too. And that extra half an inch certainly didn’t rock anybody’s world (including my own). “Hmmm, this “price” was more than I bargained for”, I thought to myself.

I wanted to know what was holding up the length gain…so I phoned the office. To my surprise, the doctor (not the receptionist) picked up the phone…
I recognized his voice instantly, “Hi, doctor…it’s me Pat…You performed an enlargement surgery on me in December”.
“Of course, I remember you…How’s everything going?”
“Well, I was just wondering…You said that my penis would eventually fall down and gradually lengthen over these last 2 months…But the truth is, it hasn’t…very much” I had to of course throw the “very much” in because I had to soften it a bit…I didn’t want the doctor to be too disappointed…
“Has it become shorter?”
“What?…No it hasn’t”. This struck me as an odd question.
“Well, you’re one of the lucky ones. Many of my patients are experiencing retraction”.
“Retraction!?”…That is something that was never, ever discussed as a possibility.
“Yes…but the good news is that if you put weights on your penis, you will be able to prevent this from happening and even gain length”
“Even gain length?” I had thought the length gain was a surety.
“Pat, you have to understand, this procedure is still very new and we are learning as we go along.”
To be honest, he did tell me this in our initial consultation that this procedure was in its pioneering stages, but he did downplay the risks considerably…He had told me, hundreds of these operations had been performed in China and that very few complications occurred. I remember as I spoke to the doctor on the phone, wouldn’t they (the Chinese) have known about this retraction possibility?

“I was one of the lucky ones?” Yes, I had gained about 1.5 inches in flaccid length, but there was hair all over the shaft and the sides of this shaft curled up...making it very obvious that there was something very odd about my penis…There would be no way I could ever get undressed in a a public change room again, or let a woman clearly see my penis…She would absolutely be able to tell I had some type of surgery down there.

The doctor then went on to tell me how to get some weights that would be of the appropriate size and weight. He wished me “good luck”…

I managed to get the weights and would ritualistically wrap them in adhesive tape around my penis every day in the morning before I went to work. I was of course terrified one of the weights would fall down at an inopportune time like a work presentation or hanging out with colleagues…but I somehow managed to avoid this.
These weights also had the added side effect of making my bulge look absolutely (realistically) humongous. At first this was completely unwanted, but…and I am embarrassed to say this…I started enjoying the attention a little…When I would be walking in a market place or a department store, I would notice women (sometimes attractive women), checking my package out...First time in my life…Well, at least one good thing came from this fiasco.
I would wear the weights several hours a day…and did this for about 6 months…There was very little length gain…but at least no retraction. Sexual encounters consisted of dark lighting, strategic positions, and no fellatio. In short, Sex (for me and probably my partners) was even more miserable than it had been before the operation.
In the early summer it was time to travel back to North America to visit family and friends….and of course pay the good doctor a visit.
The clinic was very welcoming and the staff seemed to remember me (to some extent at least). The doctor treated me like an old friend and, after examining me, was “extremely pleased” with the results. “Well, at least somebody is pleased with the results”, I thought to myself.
This was the point at which I should have said something…anything…I should have let him know I wasn’t satisfied with the results…that my penis looked ridiculous and that it was the biggest mistake of my life. But all I could muster up was “thank you for all your support doctor”.

Then he handed me an A4 size paper that described a new girth enhancement procedure that he had just started doing at his practice. Basically, he could take fat from my abdomen and transplant it into my penis, giving me an added circumference of 50%. He was wondering if I would be interested in having the procedure done…And because I was such a valued patient, he would give me a special discount. As he was giving me this sales pitch, the last 9 months of cost, inconvenience, and disappointment flashed before my eyes. Now, my penis was not only small (in my opinion), but also completely deformed. Did he really think that I was so stupid that I would fall for it again?
“That sounds great doctor, but we’ll have to do the procedure soon because I’m due back in Europe next month”
“No problem Pat.”

 
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messageman

Chapter 5

Up until this point I had always put most of my emphasis into elongating the penis for enlargement. Besides the fact that phalloplasty was still a very new field, there was the general belief that length was the measurement key. In the early to mid-90s, the Internet was still in its infancy and there simply wasn’t that much information about sizes and what pleased a woman most. In short, whenever somebody would refer to size, it was always with regards to length. ….Still, I was convinced that bigger was better and figured that would probably be for girth too.

I made arrangements for the surgery to be the following week. Again, there was the issue of having somebody pick me up…and I didn’t think the office would let me pull the “ol’ sister waiting outside in the car routine” again. This was solved by the fact that the clinic could arrange a kind of three day homestay for patients in a similar situation such as mine. This package would include a patient with accommodation, meals, etc, in the home of a certified nurse, who would also pick them up at the clinic…and basically take care of them for the entire three days. If I remember correctly, the cost was about $700.00 (1996), so it wasn’t cheap…

Surgery day crept up quickly. I went through the same routine as I did when I had the lengthening done…same bag, same clothes, same train…It was like that movie “Groundhog day”.
I sat there lying on the surgery table? The anesthesiologist and nurses were busy preparing for the operation and in walked the doctor.
“Hi Pat! Ready?
“Ready as I’ll ever be” This conversation sounded very familiar; I think we both needed new material.
The doctor injected my penis with something to give me an artificial erection…Then the anesthesiologist went to work. Drugs started flowing through my veins and that now familiar euphoria of being stoned out of my mind sneaked up on me. The anesthesiologist slowly counted back from 20…. and I was out….

When I woke up, I was very groggy and dazed…I looked down and stared at my penis; it was erect and wrapped in a white bandage. My penis looked absolutely enormous. The doctor came into the aftercare room and asked, “How are you feeling Pat?”
“Couldn’t be better doc”, (stiff upper lip). “How did the surgery go?”
“Fantastic”.
“That’s great doctor”
He noticed me looking down at my erect penis; he smiled and assured me that “the erection will go down any time now.”

The nurse (Barbara) who picked me up was exactly what I was hoping for- extremely unattractive. In my world, I couldn’t bear the thought of an attractive nurse being privy to this inner most shame of mine. This woman must have been over 200 pounds and had a face to match…but she was one of the sweetest women I had ever met. She made me feel at ease right away; from the moment she greeted me as I lay on a gurney. “Hi Pat, ready for our three day honeymoon?” She would laugh as she spoke; not a nervous laugh that can grate on your nerves, but a genuine one that is both comforting and endearing. She helped me up, assisted me in organizing my stuff, and then drove me to her little quaint bungalow, about 10 minutes from the clinic. I was brought into a clean, cozy bedroom, furnished with a bed, TV, and a nice view of an orchard in the back. Perfect. And it was there that I started my recuperation.

I lay there watching TV, nestled under my covers, experiencing very little discomfort, and thought to myself, “this is a lot easier than I expected it would be. Perhaps I could return home after one night here.” It was all going according to plan; in fact it was going even better.

As soon as the initial painkillers started to wear off though, the pain pulsating from my penis became excruciating. I had my trusty bottle of Tylenol 3s (with codeine) beside the bed, but it wasn’t completely doing the trick. You see, by this time it was 10:00pm, and my penis was still erect…In fact, it had been erect for a total of 12 continuous hours by the time Barbara walked in and said,
“Everything ok?“
“Basically…except for the fact that I still have my erection and it’s becoming quite painful.”
“You still have the same erection?”, she gasped” That was not the reaction I was hoping for. She pulled up the covers, took a long, baffled look and said,
“You’re not kidding…I’m calling the doctor”, and quickly exited the room. A rerun of Seinfeld was playing on the TV in the background as I contemplated the physical repercussions of having the world’s longest erection…Not in size (unfortunately)… but in length of time. Barbara came back and informed me that the doctor told her if I were to put an icepack on my penis, it (the world’s longest erection) should become flaccid…So, she dolled up the most beautiful icepack I had ever seen and strategically placed it on my erect penis. I tried to keep my mind off of this mini nightmare by watching TV while wolfing down pain killers. I also stayed away from liquids because I was unable to urinate (due to the erection). The pain was relentless and I couldn’t help but see the irony in the fact that my graft ended up being the least of my worries as far as pain was concerned.

At 8:00am the next day, I awoke to a very chipper “good morning Pat” (the way only a 200 pound woman could). “How are things this morning?” Honestly, I wasn’t completely sure…I did know though that it still hurt like hell and that I was in a great deal of discomfort. Barbara took the liberty of taking off the covers; and there it was...my bandaged, but distinctly erect penis, standing proud and mighty. It was almost like a divine joke was being played on me. For my entire life I had suffered from erection problems (due to poor confidence in bed), and the one time I wanted it to be flaccid, it was not only hard…but rock hard. With the white bandage wrapped around it, it honestly looked like the leaning tower of Penis.
Barbara refrained from gasping this time but quickly went into efficient nurse mode…
”Get your track pants on; we’re going down to the clinic right now…I’ll have the doctor meet us there.” We hurriedly got into the car, and in what seemed like an eternity (but was only 10 minutes), we arrived. No doctor yet, so we stood outside waiting.

A car quickly pulled up, and illegally parked in front of the clinic. Unfortunately it was only one of the young nurses; she quickly opened the front door and turned on all the lights in the clinic. We raced down into the surgery room. I got into the surgery attire, having no idea what to expect. While lying on the table and waiting for what was sure to be an uncomfortable experience, I thought to myself, “Why can’t anything ever work out for me? I am such a loser.” And then I heard what was by then the familiar (but muffled) voice of the doctor coming down the stairs. He actually ran into the room; no need to ask “How are you Pat” this time. He unwrapped my surgical attire and declared ‘Yep, it’s still erect” (always the astute doctor). I could tell by his voice that this was a very tense situation. He was quite panicked (as were the nurses), and I could see for the first time he was at a loss for words. But then he magically regained his composure, looked at me straight in the eye and said “Pat, we’ll have this deflated in no time”. Truthfully, I don’t recall whether he injected something into my penis or whether he drained the blood…Whatever he did, it soon went flaccid (thank God). The nurse quickly put a bowl underneath my penis, and I proceeded to urinate….for about 3 minutes. It was the greatest pee of my life…akin to a 3 minute orgasm.
“I bet you have never had a 24 hour erection before!”…Perhaps he didn’t know how horny a teenager could be…
“This is actually a very good thing Pat; it will help stretch the graft.” He had an uncanny way of putting a positive spin on everything…
I asked him if there could have been any permanent damage done to the penis from having such a long erection…He told me the chances were “minimal”. He then took another look at my penis and admired his own handiwork. “Looks fantastic Pat”. I had to definitely agree; my penis looked enormous even flaccid. Visions of women swooning at the sight of this monster started filling my head. Then I was brought back to reality; I had a long recuperation period ahead of me and I had better take it one day at a time. The next two days were a bit of a haze. I was hopped up on codeine and had very little sleep. Nocturnal erections, and I would have several a night, were extremely painful. Perhaps the worst pain I had ever felt in my life up to that point…Even more then the 24-hour-hard-on. I was completely laid up, only able to do the smallest tasks. Barbara (the nurse) was fantastic; not only were her meals great, but she was so supportive and professional as a nurse…Taking care of the bandages, doling out the anti-biotics and pain killers when it was time, and applying anti-biotic cream when necessary. She was my angel.

Barbara also had her opinions and wasn’t afraid to voice them
One night she came into my bedroom, and after noticing I was in a great deal of pain, we had the following conversation:
“Pat…why did you have this operation?”
“I guess because I wanted a larger penis.”
“Your penis was certainly large enough before the operation.
“I guess so.” I was always wishy-washy in giving my opinions, especially with something so personal and, frankly, embarrassing.
“It’s all in your mind you know.” she said in a caring, sympathetic tone.
At this point I wanted to say, “go tell that to all the women who were amazingly underwhelmed by my fuckin’ pathetic cock. The ones that would have that telling glint of disappointment when they first caught a glimpse of my ridiculously insufficient package. The ones that would put zero effort into hiding their dissatisfaction with sex and actually derive satisfaction out of making slight (and sometimes no so slight) references toward my greatest insecurity. Try convincing those girls who would become cooler and more distant after our initial sexual encounter than they were before it, and noticeably stopped returning my phone calls. The ones that would thoughtlessly ask, “is it in? And then show surprise and concern when I said it was. We are living in a world where it’s definitely not ok for people to deride others for being too fat, too thin, too short, learning disabled, too young, too old, gay, black, brown, yellow, red, whatever. But it’s absolutely acceptable to poke fun and snicker at an underendowed guy. Bigger is better in this world, and whether it’s a physical thing or just a placebo in the mind, I would like nothing more than to have a python between my legs and fuck the shit out of them..”
Unfortunately, all I could muster was “I see your point.”

The three days crawled by and it was time for me to leave Barbara’s sanctuary for recuperation at my family’s home, about two hours away by car from the clinic. I gave Barbara a big hug and thanked her profusely. I even gave her a $100.00 tip, which she sincerely tried to refuse but finally accepted.
The intense pain (especially nocturnal erections) continued for about a week after…but then started to dissipate steadily. I would routinely apply anti biotic cream on the abdomen wound, the wound under the glans, and the wound directly under the pubic bone. I also continued to take oral
anti-biotics to help ward off infection. Other than that, I was given strict instructions to take it as easy as possible.
After the tenth day I visited the doctor for removal of the staples on my abdomen. He did a beautiful job….Just like a mini tummy tuck-as he promised it would be. After removing the staples, only a hair thin red line (across my abdomen) was visible.
Incidentally, during the surgery, he also took the liberty of doing some cosmetic work on the “dog ears” of my penis (residual carnage from my last previous surgery). Amazingly, he was able to make my penis look almost normal…almost. He also removed the stitches from my pubic bone region. The stitches under the ridge of my glans were dissolvable stitches, so there was no need to remove those. Everything was starting to come into place.
I made one last visit exactly two weeks after the surgery. I stopped by the clinic and the doctor gave me some final instructions:
1. Keep it tightly wrapped for at least 2 weeks.
2. Keep it dry
3. Use a stretching device…a bungee cord tied to a Velcro wrap on my leg…at least 4 hours a day.
4. No sex for at least 5 weeks.
I followed these instructions to the letter.

I returned to Europe a few days later and slowly got back into my regular routine. I kept my penis wrapped for most of the time throughout the healing process, only taking it off when I took a shower. As I understood it, the bandaging would help with the swelling and aid the graft in attaching itself to the tissue of the penis. When I did take my bandage off, I was amazed by how huge my penis looked. When flaccid, my penis would hang about 5.5 inches (in length) and was about 6.5 inches in circumference .When erect, the length was about 6.5inches inches. I had only retracted about a quarter of an inch (erect length), and I guessed that could probably be made up eventually with the stretching. The circumference (at the base) was about 7.25 inches. Amazing, I thought! When I would look at myself in the mirror (which was often), I would see a penis that I was proud of- A adult films star penis!

At the time I didn’t really have a steady girlfriend, but I had a couple of girls that I slept with… I was good looking enough where my looks could make up for the fact that I was a washout in bed. Who was going to be the first girl I would test drive my new equipment on? There was an attractive French girl that I had occasionally slept with…and she was eager for me to “get together” with her. Six weeks had passed and that meant I was given the green light by the doctor. I had also started masturbating every day; all the plumbing was working!
By this point, most of the swelling had dissipated and my circumference was as follows:
Under the glans: 6 inches
Mid shaft: 6.5 inches
Base: 7 inches
The erect length was 6.5 inches to 6.75 inches

So, I set up a date with “Marie”. We went out to dinner and returned back to my place; I put on some nice, soft music and tried to very hard to create a romantic ambience. I was horny as hell though and I was putting everything into fast motion. I hadn’t been laid in almost 2 months…but more importantly, I had my new huge penis to use. I was so excited! How was Marie going to react when she sees it? Come to think of it though, she had never said anything disparaging about my previous penis. In fact there was really no reason for me to believe she was at all dissatisfied with it. There was also the issue of explaining my new gigantic size; it was comparable to a girl going from a b cup to a g cup; there was definitely going to be questions…or at least suspicions. I finally came up with the implausible excuse that because I had had trouble getting erections at times (which was true), I was advised by the doctor to use a penis pump every day for 6 weeks (while in North America) to help increase blood flow through my penile veins. An added side effect was that now my penis had reached its full potential in size. Sounds like absolute bullshit right? But as I sat with her on the sofa and explained this to her as we cuddled, she seemed to swallow it hook, line, and sinker.

:Now, I’m stuck with a penis that is too thick. I only wish there were some way to make it get back to my normal size”.
“That’s ok Pat; I like you no matter what.” She consoled me with that sexy French accent.
“”Well, instead of sex, could we just cuddle with our clothes off?” I asked her.
“Anything, is ok”.
I turned off the lights like I usually did, and crawled into bed. I was hard as a rock. We kissed and caressed. She never attempted to touch my penis, so I took the liberty of guiding her hand towards it. She at first touched it… and then tried to fit her hand around the shaft…which she couldn’t because it was too thick.
“Oh my…”, she gasped,
“It’s huge!
She pulled back to get a look at it in the dark…Is it longer too?”
I guess the increase in girth gave the false perception that there was an increase in length too.
“Yes, I think about an inch” I lied… but I was rolling with it.
“I feel so pissed off at the doctor about this. He told me he never heard of this happening before with a pump, and that perhaps this is what my normal size is supposed to be. It’s all so depressing; it looks ridiculous.”
“Pat, listen to me…you are my boyfriend and I will accept you anyway you are…We can get through this together”. I could see by her actions and the way she kissed me that she was incredibly turned on by all this, but at the same time trying her best not to show it.
She started to French kiss me (as the French do so well), and (forcibly) guided my penis toward her holiest of holies.
How would she react? My previous girth was 5 inches (at the base), and less as it went up towards the head of the penis. Average by all accounts, but certainly “nothing to write home about”, as my first girlfriend so gently put it. Now the circumference was 7 inches; perhaps within the top .1% of all men as penises as far as girth goes. Would this make a difference? Would bigger really be better?

I could feel the head of my penis enter her, but as soon as it came to the shaft, there was major resistance. In fact it was basically impossible for me to get it inside her, so I took it out and we did some more foreplay. I tried again. The head went in; then slowly…very slowly… my shaft started to go in. It was an incredible feeling. I had never come close to that feeling of tightness before. In fact, I had never, ever had a problem entering a woman before. There were, honestly, even times when I didn’t know I was in a woman because there was such little friction. How was Marie handling it? Well, I didn’t have to ask her directly; that’s for sure. The animalistic sounds that came out of her that night were something I had never previously heard from her before…or anybody else for that matter. In fact she had always been as quiet as a church mouse the previous times we had had sex. But then again, that was par for the course with basically every lover I had had.
Marie started flailing her arms and speaking French; she was completely lost in her own world.
“Am I hurting you Marie? Should I stop?” I feigned concern
“No Pat, please continue”, she panted out of breath.
I was in complete control. It was all so sexual but at the same time…empowering.
We made love for about 30 minutes that night in basically every position, I believe she orgasmed for the first time ever with me 15 minutes into our love making. In retrospect, I probably overdid it, considering the graft was only 7 weeks old, but it was easily the best sex I had ever had up to that point.
“So how was it”, I asked sheepishly to Marie, knowing full well I completely blew her mind.
“Pat, it was so amazing”…and she uttered these unforgettable words…”Now I know what it’s like to be a woman”.
As I write this, I’m aware of how fictitious and made up this all sounds…I can assure you though that I have taken no artistic license here at all.
“So should I ask the doctor to get my penis back to the way it used to be”?
She smiled and said…”If you do, I’ll kill you!”
End of Chapter 5


Special note: It is my great hope that my journal does not reinforce any (size) insecurities most of us on this site have about our penises….
Truth being said, having had both a tremendously thick penis and borderline average penis, I have found that girth does indeed make a difference; however, a great portion of my newfound success (in retrospect) was due to the confidence I was given as a result of the enhancement.
Originally, I was not even going to include my sexual exploits (or at least tone them down) in my journal but thought that would be disingenuous and go against everything this journal is about…
The one lesson I have learned in my 16 year quest is that my original penis (before surgery) was perfectly fine, and that most of the issues were in my head.


 Chapter 6

It was incredible; it was as if all those prayers and wishes finally came true. Words cannot describe the feelings of sexual confidence and control I experienced after receiving this gift of size. The sex was amazing…and it would be simply just an understatement to say that Mari was only very satisfied; she was enthralled. We would screw like rabbits and there would be a look of both pain and ecstasy on her face every time we did. She would be completely wiped out after sex (sweating and unable to move) and I would stretch out motionless, looking up at the ceiling, feeling empowered and grateful for this second chance at a sexual life. Afterward, as I lay on the bed watching the local sports update on TV, Mari would get up and scurry into the shower looking gorgeous and smitten with me…Correction: with me and/or my dick. Mari and I were two very satisfied lovers; I felt like an absolute stud and I had my humongous dick to thank for it. Note to self: if somebody’s complete self-worth and self-esteem hinges on penis size, then they are indeed in trouble. But, of course, to a guy who had had a crippling penis size complex his whole adult life, there would be no way to explain this to him. It would be akin to somebody who had been living in abject poverty his entire life and then suddenly winning 100 million dollars. This was an absolute dream come true and I was intent on making the most of it.

As a guy with zero sexual morals (at that time in my life), I also felt that it was my duty, as a good (male) citizen of this earth, to share this gift with as many females as possible. In many facets of my life, I was a living, breathing, walking contradiction. I was honest to a fault…I felt it was immoral (and bad luck) to even lie about the smallest thing…Except that is, for when it came to women. When sex was involved, I would rationalize any shenanigan by convincing myself that it was all for the higher good; I was fulfilling what nature intended for me. At other times I would admit to myself that aforementioned philosophical view was bullshit but it (sex) was just my personal vice…And we are all entitled to one personal vice, aren’t we? There was also the matter of making up for lost time. Up until this point in time (I was 26 years old), my sex life was a miserable failure. Sex had rarely brought me even an Iota of pleasure. On the contrary, it had consistently brought me shame and ridicule. Now, it was my chance to make up for all those lost chances; I would be able to erase all those horrendous memories of consternation and inadequacy and replace them with ones of pride and potency.

Physically, my penis was looking better and better each day. It was healing beautifully and the scars were becoming less noticeable. I was stretching several hours a day with an all-day-stretcher, and as the graft started to loosen up and stretch, my new length was (amazingly) about 7.25 inches. Now my penis was 7.25(length) by 7 (girth); it was all coming together!

So a few weeks after test-driving my new equipment on Mari, i.e. banging the shit out of her, I started to get bored and went looking for new ‘action’. The best places back then (in France) to meet a ‘chick’ were bars and clubs, so I would try to hang out at the local ones with the best girl-to-guy ratios. It was on perhaps on the second night of this hunt, hanging out at one of these bars with a couple of friends, when my next opportunity reared its wonderful head. I remember it like it was yesterday. The bar was a bit of a sleazy one…very smoky with awful European techno music in the background. The ‘cliental’ consisted mainly of expatriates from the embassies and investment banker types. All of them walking hard-ons. The ratio that night wasn’t really in my favor, being about 2-1 (men-women). The female demographic consisted mainly of European businesswomen looking either to tease or get laid. It was a meat market…but a competitive one to be sure. As the night wore on, that ever familiar sense of desperation started to set in amongst the gents of the bar, becoming more tangible with every tick of the clock. Next came that “resignation” stage; the time when you’ve pretty much accepted that you wasted the whole evening, spending precious time and money in a shitty, overpriced bar, only to go home empty handed. That’s when, out of absolutely nowhere, a tall, British guy came up to me and explained his predicament in a hushed town. I’ll translate for those of you not fluent in British vernacular…
“Hey, I’ve been chatting this hot Asian ‘bird’ (chick) up and think I can get her back to my ‘flat’ (apartment) and ‘shag’ (screw) her. The problem is, she’s with her ‘mate’ (friend) and her ‘mate’ (friend) needs a date. Would you be willing to tell these ‘birds’ (chicks) that you’re a ‘mate’ (friend) of mine and come back to my flat (apartment) with us?

You would think that most normal people when invited back to a stranger’s apartment for something that appeared to be too good to be true would stop and hesitate a little. After all, I had absolutely no idea who this guy was…He could have been a serial killer for all I knew. So what did I do?
“Sure man!”. In fact, I couldn’t believe my good fortune. “Where are they?” Not for one single second did I even think of hesitating. Never, ever underestimate the power of pussy.

He brought me through the smoke infested bar (it actually looked like it was on fire), and there they were, sitting at the only table in the whole place. The two girls were both very hot. One of them (the other guy’s ‘bird’) was about 25 years old. She had cropped-up hair and introduced herself as “Karen”. Though she definitely had a Chinese accent, her English was very understandable. She introduced her friend to me, “Bing” (that was her name…honest), who was the hotter of the two. She was probably about 23 years old, and had very slanty eyes (sorry for the lack of political correctness), and long, flowing silky black hair. Actually, she looked exactly like the Asian girl that was on the cover of a 1970s board game called “Mastermind”. Boy, did I use to masturbate to that cover as a kid! Come to think of it, it was the only use I ever did get out of that game. Oops, sorry to digress… back to the story…I started chatting the two girls up when “Len” (I finally found out the guy’s name) suddenly said, “Ready to go everybody?” The two girls nodded…and of course, I said “OK!”

We went to Len’s “flat” by taxi (about 15 minutes away) and entered a rather spacious abode, equipped with a kitchen, living room, dining room…and one bedroom. Len quickly brought Karen into the bedroom and I sat down on the sofa with my date “Bing”. I remember thinking if I were to have sex with her, due to the insufficient number of beds, I would either have to nail the “Mastermind” chick on the either the floor, sofa or dining table, Hmmmmm, not a bad problem to have. Maybe I could do her on all three! Life was good. I had a huge hard on in my pants and figured I should try to chat her up.
She sat beside on me on the sofa and I had my arm draped around her shoulder. By this time I had realized that “Bing” couldn’t speak English very well, but I gave it the old college try.
“So, do you like France?”
She nodded.
“What do you like best about it?”
“Various.”
“Various what?”
“I don’t know.””
The conversation was going nowhere fast. Then, she was so kind as to add to the conversation.
“Would you like a blowjob?” “Holy crap, I thought”…”This is unbelievable.”
I said, “Yes…but is that ok with you?”
She nodded readily…
Actually, I really didn’t want the blowjob because the scars on my penis (from the surgery) were still noticeable. I then said, “Let’s take this slow; how about if you just touch me?” At this point we started caressing each other and kissing passionately. I dimmed the lights, and got her top off. She had small perky breasts and very long, pointy nipples…”Sexy”, I thought.

I stood up as she sat on the sofa and undid my pants in front of her. It was dark enough where “Bing” wouldn’t be able to notice any scarring on my penis but light enough so that she would be able to get the full effect of a 7.25 by 7 inch penis. I undid my pants and flopped out my penis. It was semi-erect but still very impressive. Actually, even more so because it looked quite flaccid but I was nearing my max girth and length. So most women when they would see it would think that my penis was still flaccid and assume it would eventually grow to 10 inches or so when hard.
Flop… How did Bing react?
“Woooooooooooo….Soooooo big!” with that exotic Chinese accent that sounded like she was an extra on “Full Metal Jacket.”
“I’m sorry”, I said sheepishly…a new old trick that was coming in handy.
“ Is it real?”, she said with an awe inspired moan….”Wow”
She then began to caress it as if she were holding the Holy Grail. I stood there (with my pants around my ankles) as this hot Chinese chick started working my penis. At any moment ‘Len’ could have walked out of the bedroom and we would have been in plain sight…but I couldn’t have cared less. I brought her up on the sofa and managed to get her underwear off very easily. Her vagina fascinated me, as this was the first non-Caucasian woman I had ever had sex with. It definitely was a more compact version of vagina than I was used to, and everything looked so naturally manicured. Of course the exoticness of the situation turned everything up a notch too. “Me so horny!”

In the old days, my “former” penis” would have definitely turned into a gelatinous blob at this juncture due to nervousness and lack of confidence. Lack of confidence was certainly no longer an issue anymore. If anything, I was overconfident…and my nervousness had morphed into bravado.

Bing and I got into some heavy foreplay, and after about 15 minutes, I angled my body so that I could penetrate her. She was very excited and extremely willing to have my penis inside her. Just like Mari would, she guided my penis toward her nether regions. I was able to get my penis head in. Bing started squirming and letting out sighs of both pain/pleasure. Now the shaft started going on. Bing was definitely tighter than Mari, so I had to enter her much more slowly, rocking my penis back and forth every time I got another inch in. She was very turned on throughout the process, kissing and even biting me. “Should we take a break”, I said in a very caring, concerned voice (but actually teasing her). “No…continue…continue”. So I did. For ten minutes, I tried to get my unnaturally thick penis in…but it seemed to stop dead after going in only halfway. She then finally surrendered and said, “Wait…please stop”. I stopped and took my penis out. She jumped off the now sopping wet sofa (poor Len), reached for her ostentatious, red brand bag (the kind only a spoiled Asian girl could have)...reached in it and pulled out some hand lotion. She then proceeded to lubricate my penis with it. Wow, that felt great! Cool and soothing. I still remember her applying it and at the same time apologizing to me that she was too small for my “big penis.” I then said that we didn’t need to actually have intercourse but she made it clear she wanted to…very, very badly. So we tried again. She sat on my penis and guided her slender body down and said, “My pace, my pace”. I agreed; perhaps gravity and her being in control would help things along. It was a weird sight. As I lay on my back, a super hot Chinese girl was sitting on the top of my dick trying desperately to slide farther down on it. She would wiggle her hips and rock back and forth…And what do you know? She started sliding down…more and more…until finally I felt something I had never felt before…ever. Her cervix! It was a weird feeling. I thought it would have felt like a hard wall but it was softer. She was moaning and sweating and riding up and down my penis like a pro now...when suddenly I felt like I was going to cum. I said, “Bing…I am going to cum”. She didn’t understand. I said it again. She looked like she was about to cum too but I couldn’t wait, so I tried to lift her off my dick… but she didn’t understand what I was doing as she was completely out of it. Then… came the moment when there was no turning back. It all happened so quickly…and… I started cumming. About 5 seconds of complete orgasmic euphoria danced by as I watched this beautiful, exotic woman sharing this ecstasy of human mating with me…And then came the uninvited but ever familiar feeling of emptiness and nothingness that accompanied almost all my immediate post orgasms…This was inevitably followed by the crystallization of the reality of the situation, coupled with regret and disgust. The “baby batter” was out of my head and all that was left was this Chinese girl rolling back and forth and my penis. She now looked less like the “Mastermind chick” and more like the local Chinese takeout waitress. Bing still didn’t know I had cum…but then a trace of understanding came across her face. It could have been the fact that I completely stopped moving, the fact that my penis was starting to deflate, or (most probably) the fact that a tremendously large load of mine was dripping (from Bing) down onto Len’s sofa. Then, and I’ll never forget this until my dying day, she suddenly slapped my face and ran into the shower. Wow…Is that what Chinese women do for the afterglow? Too bad it wasn’t for foreplay. Three minutes later, she came racing out of the shower and reached into her bag, pulled out a small calendar and went about calculating whether it was a dangerous time of the month for her. She then started berating me in barely understandable, broken English that I could have gotten her pregnant. I apologized profusely as I made my way to the shower. “God knows what this girl has too (as in diseases)”, I thought to myself. After all, one of the only coherent English sentences she was able to use was “Would you like a blow job?” Where the hell did she learn that? She didn’t know the word ‘sink” but she knows the word ‘blow job?” It’s funny how clear things are when you don’t have the ‘baby batter’ in your head anymore (after dropping a load), and the ridiculous chances you take when you are under the influence of that motivation. I hadn’t worn a condom and I could have very well gotten her pregnant and contracted a disease.

The nuttiness hadn’t finished however. Ten minutes later, as I was taking a shower, I saw Bing’s figure through the shower curtain coming closer and closer. “Holy shit, I can’t believe this is how I am going to die. After banging the shit of the “Mastermind” chick, she stabs me to death psycho style. At least when the CSI guys would be cleaning up the scene, they would see I have a big dick.” Before I could do anything, she tore open the shower curtain and jumped into the shower and wrapped her tiny arms around my waist and broke into tears. I guess I was forgiven afterall.

As fun and exciting as the “Bing” incident was, I returned to Mari. She was a much safer bet and there was still a whole lot of great sex to be had. I was on top of the world, living large in more ways than one.

Then this fairy tale existence started to crumble to the ground. About three months after the surgery, I noticed something a little bit odd. At times my penis would have a surge of pain that would last a few seconds and then subside; it was an uncomfortable feeling to be sure. One evening while having sex with Mari, I noticed another disturbing thing. When I entered Mari, there was less resistance. In fact, where before it was almost impossible to get inside her fully without any type of artificial lubrication, it was now quite easy. I also noticed there was less reaction from her. Don’t get me wrong, I was still “rocking her world”, it’s just that there was less lustful, animalistic sounds coming from her. After sex...and when Mari was showering but I still had a boner…I took out my trusty measuring tape. Wholly shit! The number couldn’t be true…6.5 inches at the base! I had lost half an inch since the last time I measured three weeks before. “This can’t be true!” I felt sick to my stomach; Mari walked back in the room.
“Honey, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing, nothing…”
I needed to immediately phone the doctor and find out what was going on. This was killing me, so I told Mari I had to go to another room and make a business call back to the States. I went into the adjacent room, looked up the doctor’s number and dialed.

It was still quite early in the morning over there so I wasn’t sure if anybody (at the clinic) was going to pick up at all. As luck would have it though, the receptionist picked.
“Dr………’s office, may I help you?”
“Yes, could I speak to Dr. _______?”
“Could I ask what this is pertaining to”?
“Hi Joanne, this is Pat (I recognized the voice). I had a ‘dermal fat graft done in the summer and have a quick question for the doctor”.
“Oh hi Pat! Sure, just one moment, I’ll see if he is able to talk to you”.
Suddenly that recognizable voice jumped on the phone, “Bonjour Pat! How are things over there in the city of romance?”
“Great doctor, the healing has been rapid and all the plumbing seems to be working. Actually, I just have a small question. Regarding the graft, it really has been extraordinary. I have gained about 2 inches in circumference…That is...until last night…Last night when I measured, I noticed that I had lost about half an inch in just about three weeks. Is this unusual? Why did that happen?”
“That’s just the last of the swelling going down.”
“Swelling?” It’s been three months since the surgery. I thought you said the swelling would only last about a month at most”.
“Every case is different Pat. These things take time. How’s the weather in France?”
“What?”
“The weather…I saw on CNN you guys are having unusually cold temperatures…”
“Fine…Hey, listen doctor, this decrease in circumference isn’t going to continue is it?”
“It shouldn’t”.
I thought to myself, “Shouldn’t? I don’t like the sound of that. ‘It shouldn’t’ equals ‘it very well might’ in plastic surgeon language.”
“Pat, I have to let you go now; I have a patient waiting. Just relax and everything will turn out fine. Look forward to seeing you in the summer!”

What the doctor neglected to tell me and what I was starting to suspect, was that the reduction in circumference was not the swelling going down but rather the absorption of the graft. The aches and shooting pains that I was experiencing with my penis was most likely the graft being absorbed. The doctor had never, ever told me this was a possibility. Now I know it is a certainty.
For the following weeks, the absorption of the graft went unabated; probably about quarter of an inch every two weeks. Sex with Mari was still decent but much less intense. She never mentioned the loss in size but I was very aware of it...and this was, of course, having an effect on my confidence and therefore performance.

Finally by about the fifth month post-op, my dermal graft had pretty much absorbed. Perhaps there was about a fifth of an inch left. Incidentally, with the stretching (I was using an All-Day-stretcher, my length actually increased to 7.5 inches. I indeed had a longer and slightly thicker penis, but I was nevertheless devastated. Having sex with a 7 inch (in girth) penis was amazing and I longed for that feeling of complete empowerment again. It was akin to driving a Porche for a couple of months and than having to drive a Toyota.

I was determined to regain back that lost girth; the question was how. Remember, this was basically pre-Internet days and there was still very little literature out there. I decided that there was no way I was going to return to the same doctor again, so I started scouring journals and magazines for surgeons who were doing penis enhancement. One day at the airport, I found myself flipping through a men’s magazine when at the very back there was a very small, inconspicuous ad. It read “Penis Enlargement in Los Angeles.”

It had a phone number, so I rang up the next day and inquired. Indeed this doctor did this type of surgery. The doctor was located in Beverly Hills and was a practicing urologist…A renowned one at that. I made an appointment for the following month as I had already planned to be in that area of the country at that time.

The appointment day came up quickly and again I found myself again sitting in a consultation room.
And in walked the doctor. He was younger than I had expected…in his forties, tanned, and had an accent I couldn’t quite place.
“Hi Pat”, he boomed. “Nice to meet you!” He extended his hand out and I shook it.
“So, you’re interested in girth enhancement…and you’ve had this procedure before.”
“Yes…7 months ago.”
“Ok…Let me see” he said nonchalantly.
I pulled down my jeans. By this point in my quest in penis enlargement, I was no longer uptight about whipping my pants down at all…I had certainly come a long way.

He put on some latex gloves and snapped them at his wrist. He then grabbed my penis (without asking or even warning me) and proceeded to squeeze the skin, feeling for the dermal grafts.
‘They’re gone pat. Gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“The dermal grafts…They’re absorbed…completely”
“Really? I thought there was a little remaining”.
“Not really Pat”
“Well doctor, is it possible to redo the operation”
“Of course”
“Where would you harvest the fat from”
“From your buttocks”; it will be just like a butt lift.”
“But won’t it absorb like it did last time?”
“No, because I’ll be taking the from the buttocks. The fat back there is better for this type of procedure. The fat from the abdomen is generally too lean.”
“When would you be able to do it?”
“When’s good for you?”
“How about this October?”
“That’s fine.”
And with that, I scheduled myself for my third penile surgery in as many years.


Thank you for reading!

Below is a picture of the cover of the "Mastermind" game







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messageman

Chapter 7

I arrived in LA on Oct 11th, 1996. I remember that at the time I didn’t have much money and I literally had to count every dime. Ironically, even though my job at the time was managing people’s money, I was awful at doing it for myself. I would sit on the phone making the case for a client’s twenty-five-year financial plan, while at the same I was living paycheck to paycheck. And with the surgeries(s) and traveling costs, expenses were piling up big time. If memory serves me correctly, the dermal graft surgery totaled about $5, 000 at the time, which was a lot of money (and still is). But who’s kidding whom, I would have basically paid anything to have a big dick. You see, I was obsessed…and with an obsession, things as incidental as ‘money’, become less of a concern but rather merely of an obstacle to a goal. Just like a heroin addict would do anything to get that next fix, I would have done anything to get that big schlong.

The doctor recommended I stay in town (Beverly Hills) for at least four days after the surgery in case there were any ‘complications.’ As everybody knows, Beverly Hills is about as pricey as you can get…and because of my limited finances, my options were very limited. After considerable research, I settled on a small, homey hotel located about 20 minutes walk from the doctor’s office, which was located on Wilshire blvd. The name of the place was “The Beverly House”. An affable Mexican/American guy named Carlos (who was always…always stoned) managed it. When I say ‘stoned’, I mean his eyes were, from morning to night, completely glazed over and bloodshot. He would smoke up in a back room while watching daytime dramas (soaps), and sit slumped over in a chair with only his feet visible from the lobby. When a guest wanted some service, they would have to ring the silver bell, which would in turn startle Carlos into action (like Pavlov’s dog). When he did move (which was rarely), he would do so in slow motion with a lopsided, perpetual grin on his face. Incredibly, I believe that he had the impression that nobody knew what he was up to…when in fact, it was usually the topic of the breakfast conversation among the hotel guests. The room cost about $50.00 a day and was equipped with a bed, shower, TV…and a stoned, oblivious manager who would keep out of my business. Perfect.

I visited the doctor and all the necessary blood work was done. Incidentally, at that time (mid-90s), HIV was a major issue and I was told in no uncertain terms by the doctor that I definitely needed to be tested for that. The doctor even asked me (in a indirect way) if I were “gay”, later explaining that he would prefer not to do surgeries on gay men because the risk of HIV infection (to himself and therefore other patients) was too great. I assured him I wasn’t gay and the office put a rush on the test results (which came back negative), giving me all the all clear for surgery.

My overall impression of the doctor was a positive one. Even though he did have a cavalier manner, and he always appeared too busy and over extended with his patients, he exuded a sense a confidence that I could only interpret as a guy who has had a lot of success in what he did. Plus, he was a board-certified urologist as opposed to most of the other PE doctors, who were ‘just’ plastic surgeons. Truthfully, there was little else I could do other than trust my instincts. The Internet was still in its beginning stages and there was very little information (other than ads) about penis enlargement. I was basically at the mercy of this guy.

The day of the surgery, I took a taxi to the surgery center, located in what looked like a regular, nondescript office building. The surgery was scheduled for 4pm, and I arrived at 2:30pm. I had already been through this (PE Surgery) twice before, so I knew what to expect. I was brought to a room where I changed into the surgery attire and there I waited on a gurney type bed equipped with a curtain for privacy. The time ticked slowly…3:15pm…then 3:45pm…Anytime now…4:00pm…I asked the nurse when I would be wheeled into surgery. She matter-of-factly said, “Oh, your doctor’s running a bit late, but don’t worry, he’ll soon be here”…Ok, fair enough…5:00pm…5:30pm…It was starting to get ridiculous. Finally the curtain on the gurney opened a crack and in popped the head of the doctor,
“Hi Pat, how are you doing?
” Couldn’t be better doctor.”
“Sorry, I’m running ‘a little’ behind, but we’ll be starting shortly.”
“No problem Doc”. Another hour went by and finally at around 6:30pm they wheeled me into surgery: I couldn’t even believe they actually did surgeries that late. I vividly remember the nurses and anesthesiologist busily preparing for surgery as I lay on the operating table. The anesthesiologist rubbed alcohol on my arm and stuck a catheter into it… and in walked the doctor. He seemed to be familiar with everyone in the room and greeted me like an old friend.
“We’ll be beginning in a few minutes Pat”
“At that very moment, the fluids that were being pumped into my arm, started to take effect and I was completely stoned in seconds (Carlos would have been envious). The anesthesiologist started counting backgrounds, 20, 19, 18…and I was out.

I woke up on the same gurney with the curtain draped around it. It was about 9:30pm and the last of the nurses was patiently waiting for me to wake up. She leaned over the bed and spoke in a soft motherly tone, “You up Pat? Just try not to move; we wouldn’t want you to fall out of bed”. Her voice trailed off with an innocuous giggle. I was very groggy but because I was already a ‘surgery veteran’, I was able to orientate myself much more quickly this time.
“Where’s the doctor”
“Oh, he’s already left.” We’ve called a taxi for you.”
“From then my memory is a bit fragmented. The next thing I remember is lying on my bed in my 2.5 star hotel room staring at as this unshaven disorientated, bloodshot face eyeball to eyeball. “Holy shit, I look awful”, I moaned and put the fold up mirror I was holding down, clasped my hands together as if in prayer and said, “Please let it work this time”.

I had Tylenol 3s for the pain and they came in extremely handy. The nocturnal erections were excruciating and basically prevented me from being able to sleep for more than 40 minutes at a stretch. Having been through this before, I was at least comforted with the knowledge that the pain was indeed a temporary thing and would dissipate greatly over the next few days.

The next day I arrived at the office first thing in the morning and was soon waiting in a small examination room for the doctor. I could hear the doctor’s booming voice greeting other patients as he slowly made his rounds around the office. Then it was my turn.
“Good morning Pat, how are you feeling?”
“Great doctor”. This was not an exaggeration. Considering I had had a good deal of dermas (fat) surgically lifted from my ass and placed into my penis the night before, I was in great shape. I could walk (albeit gingerly) and had very little pain.
“Let me take a look.”
I pulled down my pants and the doctor proceeded to unwrap the bandages.
I looked down…and there was a…. gigantic penis…. both in it length and girth.
The doctor let out a very sincere gasp and said, “Absolutely beautiful!”
It WAS beautiful. As the doctor would later go on to say, it had both perfect color and texture.
“This is easily the best one (dermal fat graft) I have ever performed!”, he exclaimed proudly, “Let me get my camera”. He then ran off to another room and in less than a minute came back and started taking shots.
I felt very both relieved and excited…but at the same time I was cautiously optimistic. I had been down this road (and heard these very words) before only to be crushed with disappointment. I asked the doctor how long the grafts would last and the chances of absorption.
“Truthfully, it’s hard to say Pat. It’s still a relatively new procedure and there are basically no long-term cases yet. I am counting on the grafts being permanent. The absorption rate will depend on how well nourished the grafts are with regards to blood flow. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed.”
I remember I felt relieved believing that this doctor was telling me what he truly thought as opposed to my previous doctor who told me what I wanted to hear. He also suggested I put a hot water bottle on my penis whenever it hurt, saying it would help with blood flood and skin elasticity. He was absolutely right; it worked like a charm every time.

I had the ass stitches along the inner cheeks, but this area, surprisingly, had little pain. However, because of my tight schedule and the fact that I would only be in town a few days, the doctor and I discussed the fact that I would have to take out the stitches (both the ass and pubic bone ones) myself or have someone do it for me. This was a small but concerning point for me. I was mortified at the idea of actually going into a hospital and explaining to them that I had penile enhancement surgery, so I asked the doctor to demonstrate how to do it as I was deadest on doing it myself.

I left the doctor’s office, and two days later I was off to Hong Kong for my next work contract. The healing process at first seemed uneventful; a little difficult to walk (of course), but not so much pain. The hot water bottle and codeine were my trusty companions, alleviating the pain whenever it would start creeping in. During the plane ride, I actually kept the hot water bottle on my penis…every hour asking the stewardess to fill the hot water bottle, explaining to her that I had a hernia. I have no idea what the lady sitting beside me was thinking for the 13-hour plane ride but she certainly kept her distance.

After arriving in Hong Kong, I kept my penis wrapped during the day and occasionally would unwrap it in the evening to admire it in the mirror. It hung about 6 inches in length and had 6.5 inches in girth (flaccid). I would pretend I was walking around the change room of a gym and try to assess it objectively (as if I were staring at another guy’s penis) in the mirror. Indeed, it looked like I was a freak of nature; reminiscent of adult films I saw when I was a teenager.

Flashback (80’s van Halen) music

My buddy had satellite TV back in the 80s (when satellite dishes were the size of a small cars). He had over 500 channels…anything for your heart’s desires. And as a raging hard-on as a teenager, my desire was, of course, adult films. We would all (my friends…all just as dorky as myself) go down and gather around the TV with beers in tow and wait for my friend to flip to the adult films channels. Remember, this was before the Internet…and even adult films magazines were a big deal. I remember the first male adult filmso star I ever saw was John Holmes; talk about a baptism of fire! He was lying on his back on a bed flaccid, and a hot chick was blowing him …I sat there staring in a cold, defeated sweat… gulp. His penis flaccid was enormous. “Holy shit”, I thought…With the guy in Junior High school (see chapter 1) and John Holmes, I was certainly setting up unattainable standards to judge myself by. Now, ten years later, as I walked around my new Hong Kong apartment, and saw that my penis (at least in the flaccid state) was approaching the dimensions of those giants that so psychologically screwed me up as a kid that I had already gone under the knife three times for PE surgery (and I was still only 27 years old).

Healing continued nicely for the next day or so when what I thought was just a small issue, started to deteriorate into something significant. I had popped a stitch from the wound on the pubic bone. When it first happened, I thought, “No big whoop, I’ll put anti biotic cream on it and it will heal in no time”…Wrong! That one stitch soon turned into two stitches…and then three… and before I knew it I had a major mess on my hands. The wound was now gaping open and I could actually see the cavernous reaches of the inside of my body, under the pubic bone. If I were still in Beverly Hills, this would be no issue at all. Basically I would go back to the doctor and he would have been able to stitch it up again in ten minutes. The problem was that I was on the other side of the world. Sure, there were doctors in Hong Kong that could perform this minor procedure with ease, but I was so mortified to ask another doctor…and thus reveal my penile enhancement secret…that I chose not to. Instead, I treated it as if it were just a large cut by bandaging it and putting anti biotic cream on it. Well, as you might guess, this wasn’t a bright idea and it was not only until most, if not all of the stitches had popped out and there was a large hole (the size of a nickel) that I finally relented and sought medical attention.

The first hospital I went to was a small clinic on the side of the road, far removed from both my residence and place of employment. I figured ‘small’ meant there would be few doctors and nurses and therefore fewer people to be humiliated in front of. I walked in and gave my name to the receptionist. She could speak decent English, so I was confident the doctor could too. My name was soon called and I walked into a small room where the doctor was waiting. He was a Chinese guy (not surprisingly), about 40 years old and had a very dower manner. He didn’t even properly greet me; just pointing to a stool and gesturing for me to sit. The conservation went something like this:
“Why do you come here” (Chinese accent)
“I have a wound that needs to be stitched”
“Stitched”?
“Yes”…I made a sowing motion.
“Where”?
I pointed to my penis area, “Here”.
“eeeee”? He looked disgusted…and I still had my pants on. This was turning out exactly like I had feared it might.
“Should I take my pants off”? I motioned taking my pants off.
He grudgingly nodded.
I took my pants off and then slowly brought my underwear (boxers) to my knees. This doctor’s eyes bulged out, looking like he had seen a ghost (a ghost with a deformed penis). Keep in mind, my penis at this time was absolutely huge flaccid…and there was a gaping wound on the pubic bone. Realizing this was turning bad to worse, I brought my underwear up and tried to cover my penis, so that he would just focus on the pubic area. He was having none of that though. He wanted to see my penis and motioned me to lower my boxers again; so I did. He then, with that same disgusted tone as before but only amplified, asked,
“Is this some kind of sexual disease?” and then moved back as if whatever disease he thought I had was contagious. I was getting pissed off by this point and said, “No…Please just stitch this area here.” I pointed towards the pubic region and did and did a stitching motion.
“eeeeeeeeee.”
“Screw this”, I thought, and bolted from the clinic without paying or even looking back. Mission unaccomplished.
I telephoned the doctor in Beverly Hills and explained my situation. He agreed that it would be best to have it stitched but assured me that if I were to do nothing, it would eventually heal up by itself. Was he kidding? I could see the inside of my f’in body!
I decided to go to a large, well-respected hospital and swallow my pride (the smidgen I had left that is). The receptionist called my name and I proceeded to the consultation room to meet the doctor. On the front of the old, colonial door was a small, non descript nameplate, “Dr. Wang”… No, I’m not making this up. I was expecting the worst but promised myself that no matter what happened… no matter what humiliation…. I would have to just endure it and get the wound stitched up.
As I opened the door, I saw a small Chinese doctor around 50yrs old with a big smile on his face waiting for me.
“Hello, ‘Mr. Pat’. How can I help you today”
I remember my first impression was the doctor’s disposition was certainly better than the previous doctor; that was for sure. I immediately felt at ease and sat in a chair.
“Well doctor…this is a bit embarrassing to explain”…and I began to tell him my whole story. He was a gifted listener, hanging on every word, complete with sound effects, “eeee, aaaaaa”, and laughter (where appropriate)…He finally said, “OK Mr. Pat, let’s take a look!” So I showed him.
“Wow, that is big” (Referring to my flaccid size), and giggled. He then looked at the wound on the pubic area and said, “Yes, like you explained”. I think I might have to cut off the edges (of the skin) a bit because you have waited a little too long and this skin is dead, but there shouldn’t be a problem”.

And so for the next hour or so I lay on the office table while Dr. ‘Wang’ and his assistant stitched up the wound treating it as if it were a small surgery. In the end the wound looked beautiful and I felt so relieved. He told me to come back in about seven days, so that he could take out the stitches. I asked him if he could take the stitches on my ass cheeks at the same time, and he said, “Absolutely…No problem Mr. Pat’. And so, the following week I went back to his office and had all my stitches removed. I was all set.

After about six weeks, my penis looked amazing. I continued to use an all-day-stretcher to stretch the graft and amazingly I had lost very little length, if any at all. My measurements were:
Flaccid length: 5.5 to 6 inches
Erect length: 7.25 inches
Flaccid girth: 6.5 inches (at base)
Erect girth (base): 7.1 inches
Even thicker than the first girth enhancement surgery!

Needless to say I was horny as hell…and because I was a swinging (no pun intended) single, I decided to hit the bars. Hong Kong’s nightlife was really amazing and it had a veritable smorgasbord of places to choose from. I vividly remember the first night I went to this particular bar. Just like the bar I visited in France, this bar was frequented by mostly foreign consulate and expatriate (foreign) types. I was in “hunting” mode, so I went alone and did what I usually do in this situation, ingest a significant amount of “liquid courage”. So I ordered myself a gin/tonic…then another…then another…and by about an hour into it, I was pretty toasted.

Scouting the bar, I saw a nice looking Caucasian (American), brunette about 25 years old. I stumbled over to her and started chatting her up. I then asked if she wanted to take a “walk” outside, and to my pleasant surprise, she said “yes”. We exited down a spiral staircase and walked towards a small cemetery located across the road. After a little chitchat, we started making out. I asked her if she would be interested in coming back to my apartment for “another drink”. Unfortunately, she told me that she had plans the next morning, but that we could meet the next week. “The ‘ol’ plan the next morning’ excuse”, I thought to myself. Well, I wasn’t going to give in that easy, so I did something that has ever since proven very useful. I leaned my thigh up against hers. Now you are probably wondering what kind of move that is. Well, because of my (original) lengthening surgery, the pad of my penis basically dropped about 2 inches from where my penis originally was rooted before. Therefore if I were to lean up against a thigh of a girl, say, letting my penis touch her leg, it would give the illusion that it (my penis) ‘hung’ 2 inches or so longer than it really does...meaning that it would probably feel like my penis is well over 9 inches (when erect). Plus the fact that my penis had an inhuman girth, when I leaned against her, the girl would definitely come to the conclusion that I had an enormous horse cock (which was almost true anyway).
So back to leaning against her…
I had a half chub and leaned into her as I gently kissed her on the cheek. My penis made firm contact with her thigh and was hanging close to her knee. At first she didn’t know what to make of it, but as the sudden realization of the magnitude of what she was encountering dawned on her, her eyes bulged open and she lustfully kissed me with her tongue. My penis stiffened to its maximum potential and I maneuvered it so penis was actually touching her ass cheeks (while I was standing in front of her). That’s how long it was (or at least the illusion of it was).
I said to her, “Do you understand?”
She nodded with a mischievous, lustful smirk on her face. She cupped the outline of my penis with her tiny hands.
“Are you still sure you don’t want to come back to my place?”
“Can you just wait a few minutes? I have to get my tennis racquet and tell my friends I’m leaving.”
“Sure, no problem”.
At this point, it was only about 70% in the bag. There was still plenty of time for her to change her mind, especially with the ‘friends’ factor`. Luckily though, a few minutes later, I saw her sexy, slinky figure coming down the spiral staircase with her tennis racquet and a big grin on her face.
“OK, let’s go Pat”
“Great……”
“Louise”
“Oh Louise…Right”

My apartment was about 10-minute drive away and we quickly hailed a cab and we were on our way. By this point, I was starting to get a little nervous. Sure, I was as horny as hell but, after all, I had just met this girl….and the image of the “mastermind Chick” fiasco (see Chapter 6) was dancing in my head.

We arrived at my apartment and I buzzed in.
“Nice place”, she said in a very impressed, genuine way, “I could get used to this.” Little did she know that this was just a company rental, my credit cards were just about maxed out, and I was about ten grand in debt. But I did what I always did in these situations, I rolled with it.”
“Well, I’ve been blessed.”
“In more ways than one”, she undoubtedly was thinking as she continued to cup her hand over my dick as we rode the elevator to the 7th floor.
We entered my apartment… and because I had just moved in, everything in my apartment was still in boxes. I gave her the complimentary tour, saving the bedroom for last of course. We started making out and in no time were naked between the sheets. I had turned off the all the lights, leaving only the bathroom hallway light on. This (the darkness) had unfortunately been a necessary part of my ‘mating’ process since having been scarred from my first surgery. In fact, due to the (old) scars on my penis coupled now with the (new) scars on my ass cheeks, foreplay was generally restricted to us masturbating each other and me going down on the girl. I enjoyed being felated but that was over with. One ‘up-close and personal’ look at the sides of my penis &/or pubic bone and the girl would definitely know something was up.

I remember that I was feeling very nervous as opposed to horny at this point. This girl had basically been promised a huge dick experience and I had to deliver on it. We lay there with our bodies pressing together, French kissing while she vigorously massaged my penis; her fingers could not reach around the entire circumference. You might be wondering if she were expecting a nine inch penis when I only had just a little over seven inches (in length), she would be disappointed. But I found that with the lights all out and my huge girth taking center stage, no woman ever seemed to be disappointed; at least nobody ever said anything.
“You’re huuuuuuuge.”, she said in a drunk, lustful tone.
I upped the ante, “Do you like big dick? ”Dirty talk always makes me horny (and therefore harder)…
She nodded in a ‘guilty as charged’ manner.
“Really? Have you ever had a really big dick before?
Raising her left eyebrow, she smiled and said, “Once”,
“How was it?”, I asked in a sincerely curios tone.
“With that (and I’ll never forget this), she took her hands off my penis, rolled over, and raised her arms as if trying to reach the ceiling. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as if to fall into some kind of hypnotic state, and wistfully said “ It was…soooooo amazing.” She then shook her head as if to come back to reality (after remembering that giant cock of yesteryear) and started to lock her green eyes with mine once more.

That over the top “sooooooo amazing” cock of yesteryear was not the answer I was really expecting, but I was the one who asked and it served me right. Now I really felt the pressure to perform. Nonetheless, I was still quite hard and after a little bit of foreplay decided it was time to ‘enter’ her.
I had a little tube of KY jelly with me in case I needed it, but she was so wet I decided I didn’t need it. So I started in…Now many of you may wonder what it’s like have sex with such a large dick (at least girth wise). Well, it certainly is a lot different than when I had my 5-inch girth. Back then I actually refrained from foreplay because I didn’t want to loosen up the girl too much and therefore lessen the pleasure for both of us. And with my original girth, initially entering a woman was so …easy; usually very little resistance. Of course intercourse felt good…but now with the 7 inch+ plus girth all these things were amplified. And the reactions you get out of a girl are completely different….more visceral, more wild. Her reactions are often (initially at least) a mix between pain and pleasure. The walls incase your penis as if it is a tight glove, increasing the sensation (for both of you).

After about 10 minutes of slowly, incrementally moving my penis in, we were screwing like rabbits. Even though I was still a little drunk, my erection quality was very good. The sight of a hot size queen getting off on my dick was extremely erotic…Kinda like watching a adult films movie, only I was in it! We spent the next hour making love (screwing each other’s brains out) before we both collapsed in a pool of sweat and fell asleep.

The next morning’s sun burst through my window (I still didn’t have any curtains) as my head laid squashed against my pillow. Out of the corner of my I saw the sexy brunette getting her clothes on.
“Hey.”
“Hey”
She bent over the side,
“Last night was great…Here’s my number”, and reached out to hand it to me…But before I had the chance to take it, she quickly took the piece of paper back and wrote “Louise” with a heart beside it. Good thing she did because I had completely forgotten her name. ‘Louise’ was apparently off to that “plan” she had told me about the night before; I guess she had been telling the truth after all.

I never saw Louise again; we played phone tag a couple for a little while afterward but I never really pursued it. Truth be told, I wasn’t very interested. ‘Been there, done that’ and there were plenty of fish in the sea in Hong Kong. I was 27years old, good looking, working for a prestigious company and had a big dick; I was in heaven. My job was time consuming and intense on the weekdays, but on the weekends there was plenty of down time. Most of my colleagues/friends were all in their twenties too and just as horny as I was. So I got into a routine of heading down to clubs and bars with my buddies and picking up a different girl pretty much every weekend. I would do the same thing every time: Chat the girl up and get her to take a walk with me outside to get away from the music. Then I would lean over to give her a kiss on the cheek but at the same time lean my body so that my penis would be pressing against her leg. Once the girl understood that what was pressing against their leg was my (huge) penis, it was just a matter of what time that night we would be going back to my apartment. It was unbelievable. Who would have thought that young women were so…horny? Indeed, my penis had come a long way since its “rolos” days.

Always in the back of my mind though there was the dreaded fear that my new graft was going to experience the same absorption as the first one. So I would obsessively measure every night and every morning. In fact I even had a tape measure at work and would sometimes do a quick check there. I also made sure I kept a very healthy diet and took a regiment of vitamins, including Niacin.

So…I guess you are wondering how all this unraveled and came crashing down on me. Well…simply, it didn’t. Over the course of the next two years, my girth only shrank from 7 inches to 6.75 inches…and then very incrementally for the next 10 years until it finally shrank to (and leveled off at) 6.25 inches. Still a very impressive girth to be sure.

In retrospect, the graft had completely changed my sex life. I went from being the self conscious, unconfident dud in bed that you read about in the first chapters of this story, to a confident stud who had more women than he could handle. Frankly, the surgery was one of the best decisions I had ever made in my life. So much so that in 2008, I intended to pay the Beverly Hills doctor who performed the graft a visit to update him on my progress and personally thank him for all the great years of sex I had had as a result of it.

I had not contacted him in years and had lost his email address, so I gave him a quick search on the Internet. When I did, the first thing that popped up on my screen was a page of testimonials about a new “Implant” he had been using with patients. Hmmmmmm, what’s this? So I started to dig further. I soon found myself on a website completely dedicated to Penis enlargement called “Mynewsize”. “Wow, I wish this site existed when I first started my journey”, I thought to myself. Then I started to voraciously read all the ‘glowing’ posts this new implant was receiving by several satisfied patients. The posts were structured into different threads (topics), but it was this one thread that particularly intrigued me. It was in journal form and basically detailed, almost daily, the progress of one implant recipient. He was extremely articulate and glowingly wrote about how pain/complication free his recuperation was. But what was even more fascinating was the results. A permanent 1.5 to 2 inch permanent increase in girth with a zero chance of absorption.

At this time I was 39 years old and in a relationship. I was happy with my sex life and my penis size for that matter, which incidentally was 7.5 inches X 6.25 inches. But…then I started remembering how that 7-inch girth felt like and thought how it would be nice to have that again. And by the looks of all the glowing comments on MYNEWSIZE, it was basically a simple, risk free procedure. Perhaps the crowning beauty of it was…if I didn’t like the implant, I could always have it easily removed with no problems. Why not do it?

Chapter 8 will be divided into two parts and detail my implant surgery and the following nightmare that would ultimately become the worst experience of my life.

Thank you very much for reading,
Messageman












Quote 1 0
boston2015
kraken
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KFH
I'm glad that I bookmarked this for later. Took me about two hours to read mind!
Very interesting and amusing at parts.

Afew inevitable questions:

So this penile enlargement procedure you had that was first used in China, was it a lig cut?

Do you regret the lig cut procedure?
Did you notice a drop in the angle of your erection after the lig cut?

If you had zero penis size issues when you were 26 would you have still had these procedures done (including the pain and discomfort)?

Cheers.

My Lengthening Surgery (lig cut) Report & Results
My Extender Report and Log
12/17/11 - 6.5" BPEL x 5.5" MSEG
05/10/14 - 6.5" BPEL x 5.5" MSEG
29/01/15 - 7" BPEL x 5.5" MSEG 
31/05/15 - 7.25" BPEL x 5.6" MSEG

Goal: 8" BPEL x 5.75" MSEG
Quote 0 0
messageman
'ello KFH
So this penile enlargement procedure you had that was first used in China, was it a lig cut?  YES


Do you regret the lig cut procedure? Yes...Because I believe now that with just disciplined stretching, hanging, pumping.... and time (sometimes years, most guys can increase their length).  
Did you notice a drop in the angle of your erection after the lig cut?  Yes

If you had zero penis size issues when you were 26 would you have still had these procedures done (including the pain and discomfort)?
No...I was average size  (or even a little above average) when I started my journey, but I had it in my head that I did not measure up....This affected my performance overall...aggrevating the situation.,..It became a vicious cycle...
Best of luck with your journey!

Quote 0 0
Gort
Messageman:
Great read! I was thinking about getting the implant when I joined this site but I think your story scared me to think of alternatives.

Gort

Quote 0 0
KFH
What are your current stats messageman?
My Lengthening Surgery (lig cut) Report & Results
My Extender Report and Log
12/17/11 - 6.5" BPEL x 5.5" MSEG
05/10/14 - 6.5" BPEL x 5.5" MSEG
29/01/15 - 7" BPEL x 5.5" MSEG 
31/05/15 - 7.25" BPEL x 5.6" MSEG

Goal: 8" BPEL x 5.75" MSEG
Quote 0 0
messageman
Hi KFH
Sorry for the late reply; my current measurements are 7.75 inches length X 7.25 inches (base) girth.
Quote 0 0
New1inch
been waiting for chapter 8 for a while  when can we expect it?
Manual PE WORKS!! 
Feb. 2013-BPEL 5.0" EG 4.95" FL 3.0" 
May. 2013-BPEL 5.5" EG 5.1" FL 4.0" 
Aug. 2013-BPEL 6.0" EG 5.0" FL 4.5" 
Jun.  2014-BPEL 5.625" EG 4.95 FL 4.0" 
Aug. 2016- BPEL 5.50"  EG 4.95  FL 3.75" 
Nov. 2018- BPEL 6.5”  EG n/a FL na **NEW

Goal: 7"EL x 6"EG

Follow Me On My Journey to find a inch:
http://phalloboards.websitetoolbox.com/post/my-journey-to-find-an-inch-6215675?trail=15
Quote 0 0
Rondo

fascinatingly detailed journal.  If I'm not mistaken, didn't you also also have alloderm (might be confused with another member)?  Have you ever considered the testicular implant by the doctor we clearly recognize as Dr. Elist?  I've been advised strongly against it, but am oddly still considering.  I am leaning towards PMMA to augment a successful alloderm in '04 that has atrophied somewhat.  Looking forward to the rest of your 'story'...

 

Quote 0 0
jesticus

This was outstanding reading ... you really should consider a career in writing ... I was absolutely riveted .... great balance of humor and suspense.  Sorry to hear about all of your trials and I wish you all the sucess in the future.  We're the same age and I'm just now considering all of this.  probably too late ...

Quote 0 0
Miracle8x7
Hey buddy.  Don't know if you've ever seen this so I felt compelled to throw it out there.
Never gonna retire from PE! What? You gotta problem with dat?

Progress Report
http://phalloboards.websitetoolbox.com/post/Miracle8x7s-PMMA-Progress-Report-5391236
Quote 0 0
Miracle8x7
@jesticus
Never too late!  LOL
Never gonna retire from PE! What? You gotta problem with dat?

Progress Report
http://phalloboards.websitetoolbox.com/post/Miracle8x7s-PMMA-Progress-Report-5391236
Quote 0 0
messageman
Jesticus
Miracles's right; it's never too late my friend

Miracle
Yikes  
I would prefer to remember "The Mastermind Chick" as a hot 21yr old. 
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