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?”
“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,
“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,
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.
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?”
“What do you like best about it?”
“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?”
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?”
“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?”
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”
“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?”
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