Big Dicks Are Still Cool


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Nice Move

Big Dicks Are Still Cool

For some time now, I’ve stood silent as my peers have vocalized their beliefs on a topic that irks me to my core. A new set of values that I believe will shake the very foundation on which our society operates. A belief system that is incongruent with everything I’ve ever known to be true of the world.

I’m talking about dicks, people.

We live in a society where “average” is practically an insult. You’d never want someone to say you were a 5. If a guy is average in height, about 5’10” for a dude, you’re disappointed he isn’t slightly taller. And the good Lord knows that if when you say “I’m so fat,” a friend responds with “No, you’re normal” instead of “No, you’re so skinny,” that that girl was never really your friend at all. Why, then, have penises become the exception.

Since the beginning of time, or at least since the ‘60s, women have come home from “dates” in the morning, snuggled up to their roommates, and held their fingers about a hot dog’s length apart to signify that the man they boned the night before was well-endowed. Well-endowed, because “well” is a positive word, and a big dick was a positive thing. We were impressed when we could see serious bulge through a man’s sweatpants. Men got their value from big dicks. Magnum condoms came with gold wrappers for fuck’s sake. Because they were the best. Bigger was better. And that’s the way it’s been since penises were invented.

But I find myself, as of late, in conversation after conversation with women who say they want an “average” sized willy on their man. A quick reminder, average is five inches. That’s shorter than the length of your iPhone 6. You can’t even wrap both your hands around that without running out of penis. And women, for some reason, are saying this is their preference. To borrow words from the great Mindy Kaling, “Ex-squeeze me?!”

I don’t know when this shift took place, but I’ll admit something that no one else seems to. I like a big dick. Everyone knows that about me. It’s practically a fetish. I’d put my preference right around 8 inches like the good Lord intended, but 7 is fine and nine is better than 5. And frankly, I don’t know when this shift in the universe happened, but I don’t like it. In fact, I’m not even sure I believe it.

It seems to me that “all dicks are adequate” comes from the same camp as “all women are beautiful,” a notion with which I starkly disagree. No matter how many Dove campaigns we see, some women are still prettier than others, and some lap rockets are more fulfilling than others. It’s the way of the world. Not everyone gets a trophy and not everyone gets laid. And in a world where women are constantly objectified and made to feel bad about their bodies, why do we have to spend so much energy making guys feel better about this one thing they feel insecure about? I wouldn’t say I’m a man-hater. In fact, I love men. But I don’t feel bad if they have to feel the pain we feel about every inch of our bodies toward three to five inches of theirs.

And to the women acting like “monster cocks” are so awful: cut the shit. You’re not cute. You don’t magically unfuck ten guys when you say “it doesn’t fit.” It fits. It was designed to fit. Unless you have the vagina of an Asian toddler, you are not so chaste and tiny that your body is not able to receive a decent-sized penis. I am 5’1” with a *strong* pelvic floor and lost my virginity to a nine-inch penis, and guess what: I was able to make it work.

I understand that your ~first time~ with a big wiener can be intimidating. But like with all good things, a little patience and hard work will make it worth it in the end. Your body is designed to push a human out of it, and I guarantee that human is larger than your boyfriend’s penis. Go slow, use lube, and by the third time, it’s like riding a bike. But better, because it’s a man — a man with a pecker that feels better, looks better, and doesn’t engage you in bullshit conversations where you have to reassure it that it’s better than your ex.

Look, don’t take my word for it. Go out there and see for yourself. You won’t “stretch out” permanently. You abstain for a month, and you’ll have to ease yourself back into it all over again. The second you’re done boning the guy with the huge hog, there will be no evidence he was ever there at all. So the idea that you’ll be “ruined” is a myth. And even if it’s not, your shit will be fucked up once you give birth anyway, so you might as well find a guy who’s slightly closer to satisfying you.

Or you know what? Maybe don’t. Maybe the next time you find a man with a man-sized ding dong, you just send him my way instead.

Image via Helga Esteb /


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