The Bulge Chronicles part 1

I wasn’t good with girls in high school. An only child with a single mother, I was great in conversations with middle-aged women, unsurpassed at searching for father figures, and absolutely terrified of girls my age. The only ones I ever dated or went to dances with in high school were the ones who asked me out.

In college, I dated one girl for a long time and only a couple others saw my dick. Which is why I was so surprised, at age 22, when a German girl I had sex with told me “that’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.” We stayed together for nearly two years, and it was my sexual awakening. Things that I had heard about from friends were suddenly possible for me: she wanted to show me off, so we tried a threesome; I had the confidence to hang free, so we went to a nude beach, and then to many more; I learned that I had a dom side and we experimented with BDSM.

When we broke up, I saw myself differently. I wasn’t lucky to have sex; I was a sex object. I wasn’t a nerdy philosophy student with no social skills; I was a deep-thinking hedonist who could use silence to seduce. And, not super-important at the time but relevant for this story, I was a deep-thinking sex object with a big fucking dick.

I checked the statistics online after the German girl told me, and we got out a ruler. But even when both length and girth measurements were 95%+, I didn’t really believe her. It didn’t look big to me. It just looked…well, normal. Not hung like a 12 inch porn star, just proportionate and, to me, uninteresting.

Then we went to the sauna. In Germany the saunas are co-ed and totally naked. No one wears anything. It’s really, really bizarre – and mostly non-erotic, because most of the people are old and overweight. Some people go with their whole family. There are basically no boners, though I later learned (not through experience) that some of the out-of-the-way areas are more sex-positive.

My girlfriend led me around for a couple hours, from the hot sauna rooms to the freezing cold plunge pool to the lukewarm chillout pool and the fresh air relaxation lawn. Some people put towels on to walk around, but people are otherwise naked. The whole experience is a trip (seriously, it’s way more of a cultural experience than Oktoberfest, for those of you with Germany bucket lists; at the very least, combine them).

After we went in and out of a few rooms and I got used to the concept, I started noticing that despite it being non-sexual there were still a ton of women looking at my dick. I mean, I was with my girlfriend and it’s possible they were swingers, but actually it was more like I was a piece of meat. Literally. I’d never before felt the need to say, “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

And in their direct, unembarrassed German way these women would bore a hole in my genitals for a second or two and then move on, continuing the conversation with their friend or staring up at the ceiling. I checked to see if the women looked at other cocks in the same way – and they did not. Not many, anyway. At one point I asked my girlfriend if she thought a lot of women were looking at it, and she said “Of course – I told you it was big” and then looked at me like I was an idiot.

I only really understood what this meant for me when I went into the lukewarm chillout pool by myself. We’d just come out of a hot room and my dick was doing the opposite of shrinkage: the warm, peaceful atmosphere made it hang heavy, along with my balls. As I was climbing down into the pool, which was set into the ground, I saw a woman about my age fixate on my dick. And she could not take her eyes away. It was different from any other gaze that day: longer, hungrier, more intense. She followed it all the way into the water and then looked up at my face. She was embarrassed when our eyes met, turning immediately to the guy next to her and saying something to get him to open his eyes. When they left a few seconds later I saw that his flaccid dick was much smaller than mine, though he was bigger than me in every other way and much better muscled.

Sitting in that pool, waiting for my girlfriend, I felt such extreme pleasure, something deeper than an orgasm, almost like a revelation. I had never been admired by girls or women, not for my whole life – or at least I hadn’t felt it. That woman who looked at me – that hot, model-like woman who looked at me – made me realize I could be desired in the same way I desire a great pair of tits. The person attached to them matters, of course, but there is a primal satisfaction to being desired as an object, as a literal piece of flesh.

That realization is part of what led to the threesome, and also to our nude beach trips and to, after we broke up, a period of a couple years where I turned into a raging slut. But those are stories for a different time – and in lots of ways less interesting.

This is about my bulge, and why it became and remains my favorite way to show off.

Two quick stories:
The first takes place on a crowded underground train in a major European city one hot summer day a few years ago. I’m wearing linen trousers and no underwear, and there is a woman eyeing me up on the platform. I walk back and forth a couple times, finishing a phone call and watching her watch my bulge, which is as big as can be without me getting hard. Not so different from the sauna. She’s petite with a tight tank top showing off her very nice tits and she has a fuck-off alternative vibe, with a nose ring and army-style backpack. Not usually my thing or girls who are into me. The train comes and we go to the same door. Because it’s so crowded we end up on different sides of a floor-to-ceiling handrail. More people are pushing on, and everyone is smashed together. After the doors close, I look at her and move my hand from its natural position to about a foot higher, exactly the height of her tits. She pretends not to see but as the train starts moving she slides herself over so her left tit is smothering my hand on the pole. A guy next to me notices (he’s also been checking her out) and his body stiffens like he’s about to say something to defend her – but then he realizes that she was the one who moved into my hand. And he can’t believe his bad luck. I’m almost getting more amusement out of that than the tit, which I can only feel with the back of my hand. A few stops later the woman and I were able to position ourselves next to each other, my increasingly hard dick set firmly between her ass cheeks. Three more stops of me getting harder and harder as she grinds against me, and then she hops off, looking back at me with a sultry pout after the doors had closed. Holy fuck was that hot, both in the moment and afterwards – no messiness of conversation, none of the awkwardness of a hookup and will we/won’t we see each other again, no guilt. I honestly enjoyed it more than some of the times I had sex. Quick and public and dirty. Fuck yes.

The second involved nothing more than a girl’s eyes. Again, an underground train in a different European city. I’m standing, she’s sitting. My dick is at her eye height, and I’m wearing normal trousers, nothing particularly revealing. But the swaying and jolting of the carriage apparently made me bounce in appealing ways because she couldn’t take her eyes off my dick. I’m staring off in the distance, my headphones in, but her face is still in view, and she can’t contain her excitement. She must have been reading this subreddit or something because the girl was horny. Early 20s, curly black hair, olive complexion – Italian? Greek? Spanish? She was smiling to herself and flashing delight in her eyes. And, as so frequently, there seemed to be nothing specific about me that was part of it: I didn’t ever see her look at my face. I was just a piece of meat for her fantasies, a living dildo for her mind to play with. When I left the carriage, I glanced back at her and she didn’t look up at all. But she was still radiating pleasure – and that was enough for me to have multiple orgasms over the next 48 hours.

These are my exhibitionist stories, all focused on my bulge. I did nothing to deserve it and to be honest have had more pleasure in showing it off than in using it: only a few girls have really enjoyed the size vocally during sex. Some others have struggled with it (which sounds a bit like I’m bragging but is actually a bummer for everyone involved – and killed at least one budding relationship). The best part, for me, of having a big dick is showing it off.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kr6nzk/the_bulge_chronicles_part_1