That time I watched hi[m] [f]uck my dream girl and I learned size matters

This is a long, completely true, vaguely cuckold-y story from my college days at a large American university. It’s about how a small group of girls who I hung out with a lot proved to me that size matters. I’ve changed the names for obvious reasons, but every detail is as accurate as possible. I made up things like measurements, because obviously there wasn’t a fucking ruler lying around every second, but I consider myself a pretty decent judge of breast and penis size just from having a ton of experience with both. (I’ve been with dozens of women, and I’m one of those over-the-top critique-ers of dick pics on the internet who knows Mandingo is really only like 9.5” long at best.) So there you go, read on if you want to know my story.

 

 

Back when I was in college, I had a close girl friend named Nicole. To be honest, I was friend zoned by her. She had an interest in me, briefly, but I pursued it too hard – which is very unlike me – and I pretty much lost my chance. I lost it completely when she became enamored with the male subject of this story.