Welcome back to my sexual autobiography, in which I answer questions that I see on the Lush Forums for which I have a true answer!
The question is, what do you notice when you see a penis for the first time? I’d like to thank the poster for this one, as it wasn’t something I’d really thought of before. It made me think, and it involved a fun trawl through my sexual scrapbook.
I have heard that, for less confident men, the moment he first exposes his penis to a woman is a moment of considerable emotional peril. He fears ridicule. He fears being discussed and laughed at by the girlfriends of his partner. Guys, let me tell you, you have little to fear regarding size, unless yours really is tiny. It is, genuinely, what you do with it that counts.
Nine times a new sexual partner has bared his cock to share with me, and this story relates my first impressions of each. The names of the men have all been changed, for their privacy and for mine.
It’s important to note that, as each dick honed into view, I was not thinking to myself, ‘Hold that thought, I’d better write down my first impressions of this penis to share later on Lush Stories.” There were very much other things on my mind. So, inevitably, memories of events that happened twenty or more years ago have grown hazy.
Preparing this story, I recalled the day I bent the knee and yanked down my first lover’s shorts and pants. I was at college and the blowjob I gave to Francesc that day was my first real sexual experience. I was still a virgin. His penis looked rather small at first, but I remember being impressed with how quickly it went from flaccid to rock hard. It swelled to full size very quickly and didn’t come down until he shot his load all over my hands. Along with my last, my husband’s, his is the cock I can most easily visualize in my mind’s eye. Francesc didn’t take my virginity, but he did get another chance on a later date.
Obviously, the first hard cock you see holds a novelty value that later ones lack. My second was the guy I lost my virginity with, and this is a tale I told earlier in this series, so I won’t retread old ground. Honestly, yes, I was comparing Enric’s to Francesc’s. But they really weren’t very different in terms of size and shape.
In “The Sluttiest Thing I’ve Done,” see parts passim, I recounted seeing my third and fourth penises. My third, I was delighted to get my hands on, as I’d had a crush on Eric for ages. Eric’s dick was better described as thick than long, but it stayed hard for hours.
My fourth was the very next night and, as Jakub showed me his gear, I saw at once that it was the biggest I’d encountered yet. I did not whip out the tape measure, but I think he must have cleared seven or even eight inches. Jakub’s more than ample cock gave me a drilling I have never forgotten.
So, in fact, I’ve already written about my first four. Number five was a three-month fling with a big, sporty guy I met through a friend. I haven’t written a true story about him, but I did base a character on this guy; That’s him in “The Book in Iker’s Drawer”. I’ll call him Iker although, of course, that was not his real name.
Iker was a big man. He stood at least six foot two and was beefy and muscular. He lived for sport and working out. He was not a man I was ever going to marry, but he was an excellent fling. The first time we slept together, he carried me to the bed in his huge arms and lay me down. He got up and stood over me, in what I took to be a trick to emphasise his size. I watched him pull his t-shirt off and drop his cycling shorts…Iker’s cock was not small. It was average sized, at around five or six inches. But the truth is, his large physical frame worked against him in terms of initial impressions. His penis looked comparatively small against his big body.
Up close, I saw he had a scar on the underside of his dick, a sort of greyish lump. He told me he had suffered health problems, and the scar was from a botched catheter as a baby, which made me see his health obsession in a new light.
Iker loved sex. The man was practically obsessed. Every time we had sex he would come, take a shower, then he’d be back wanting more. He taught me positions I’d never dreamt of, and his skills were far, far above average. Iker turned this quiet, bookish, middle-class girl into a veritable nymphomaniac for a while. I never took Iker back to meet my parents, but they would have been shocked if they had known some of the things their daughter got up to with that guy!