Okay, sure, I [the author slips into character] can deal with being called a braggart and my writing shit. What you aren’t getting, though, is that my life isn’t all good, man. I mean, being thirteen was probably the worst, but nineteen isn’t always a whole lot better. And I’ve heard some pretty mean shit just because I happen to be born with the genes that made me grow a big dick. Yeah, it’s nice when the chicks and the dudes look at it and admire it, and sometimes they are more liberal with their favors because of it, if you know what I mean. But sometimes the name calling crap is just wrong. Nobody should get shit for what they can’t control!

I don’t know what all is in my genetic make-up. Like, my skin color is not African, Caucasian, or Asian, but that time I got called the n-word, it just wasn’t right, man. It wouldn’t be right even if my ancestors all came from Africa. Nobody’s ever insulted me because of my eye color, but that’d be just as wrong. So, the “donkey-dick” and “dildo-in-your-pants” stuff is just mean and rude. It makes me wonder why people want to hurt other people. I guess maybe they’ve been treated shitily themselves and don’t know any better than to try to make someone else feel bad.

Fuck, even when I was a little kid, I knew you didn’t do that shit.

Anyway, I’m a sophomore now at the community college, and I finally, like, have a real girl friend. You know, I’ve fucked a lot of girls, and that was fun, but this is different. She pisses me off sometimes, and, oh, yeah, I piss her off too, big time! Still, I get over it, and I want to, yeah, fuck, that’s a big part of it, but I also like to talk about stuff with her, get all wrapped around her, be places with her. I don’t think we are like totally-in-love-ready-to-get-married, but this hanging out, being a couple thing is cool.

The other thing is that spending more time with her and kind of caring (you know?) how she feels, means I am loving fucking even more than I used to, and who the hell thought THAT was possible! I don’t know if I have the same number of nerve cells in my dick or if they are better at FEELING sensations that any other guy’s dick, but DUDE, I love feeling a pussy sliding ALL the way along that damn thing.

Shit! Am I bragging again? I’m just trying to be honest here, man. I love a good rim job, would pay money (even though I never have) for a rockin’ blow job, can orgasm from having my nipples sucked on, and have cum like nobody’s business in a few guys’ asses, but the thing I do love the most is the way a pussy gets all hot and wet and just grips and massages your dick like nothing else can. Gets me hard just thinking about it.

So, my girl friend is not a virgin when we hook up, but she’s never had so big a dick before either. She hasn’t been as slutty as I have either. I’ve maybe been with fifty girls and maybe eight guys, and she’s been with just four guys, total, no girls. She says she might hook up with another woman some day, but it hasn’t happened yet, and while we’re together we’re being exclusive, monogamous, you know? Weird for me, but I’m actually liking it. Got the good sex, and I don’t feel “easy” or used.

That’s what I was going to tell you about. It’s like, I guess it sounds like I have it made or something because I look unusual in a way that a lot of people seem to like. You know: killer tan, “awesome” blue eyes, muscles showing without being just gross-steroid-big, hair looking like I fuss over it (but I don’t), and a cock that’s meant to be seen. I guess I should try harder to wear pants that hide it, but it’s just too damn much fun to get the stares and big eyed double takes.

One time we are going to a dinner, an awards banquet for my mom. My dad in a suit, funny, but he looks sharp. Mom takes one look at me, dick showing probably clear as anything in my khaki pants, “Different pants, dark ones.” I don’t argue. I know this is a special night for her, and my dick doesn’t need to be the center of attention. So the black pants are what I wear next. She doesn’t really stare at my crotch, but she gives me a casual glance, and thanks me as we head out the door.

At the dinner, do you know, one of her chef buddies comes on to me? Like, dude, I’m here for my mom and you are offering to suck my dick? Okay, I almost let him, but then I saw her looking at me from halfway across the room, and I laugh like he’s told a funny joke. My parents are cool. They know I don’t care if someone’s gay or not, and they know I’ve been with guys and girls, but still, it’s like weird for some guy she knows professionally to be hitting on her son. So, no, I didn’t let him suck me off.

Yeah, yeah, back to feeling used. Have you ever tried to talk to someone about something you think is important and they just seem to keep looking at something on the side of your head.? Then you go to the bathroom later, maybe a lot later, and you see some glob of lint or something has stuck in your hair, or even that your hair is sticking up in some huge spike that just looks stupid? Well, I get that happening all the time with my dick.

Right! If it bothered me so much, I’d do more to hide it, right?

Well, okay, I’m nineteen: I like the attention still. But, jeez, sometimes I have to move in closer so that it’s harder for them to look down there and see it. Probably some of them think it’s some Bulgarian thing, you know, moving in closer than Westerners think is comfortable. I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been back to Bulgaria since I was two. So, closer in they have to look me in the eyes. Maybe they’re admiring them too, but at least we do expect people to look us in the eye when we’re talking!

Okay, I’m getting to the getting used business! My freshman year in college I’m in this class with about twenty other people and a real mix. I’m loving feeling all grown up, even though I still live with my parents. I’m hanging out with people from all over, not just surfers, not just Malibu people, not all even that close to my age. This one woman, not as old as my mom, but a bit older than me for sure, takes an interest in me. She does the whole long look at the long line in my pants thing a few times and smiles at me each time. I’m polite and smile back, but she’s like too wannabe actress looking for my taste. You know, the type with her clothes just a little too, like, animal print and her makeup just too over the top?

So, she wants to talk about the Federalist Papers, and I’m all excited about Hamilton and the early days of the Republic. She’s not my type, but she’s an adult and she wants to talk about history and how it has molded our country. I’m feeling so mature. Sure, I’ll go to dinner with her and discuss our reading assignments! It’s some restaurant where it turns out she knows a few people. We don’t get to talk that much because she’s saying hi to this one and waving at that one and telling me we have to eat in a hurry before someone else she knows comes in and she has to talk to them. Okay, yeah, I think it’s weird, but I’ve been places before where it seems like everyone I know is showing up at the same time for some reason.

She apologizes and suggests we talk at her apartment, it’s just a couple of miles away, won’t take long, she’ll pay for the meal since it was her idea and we didn’t get to talk. “Okay,” I say, feeling a bit like the jock only knows football and has been dumped into a room full of college professors talking about global warming and carbon footprints. I mean, come on, I know we’re going to fuck, but I do think we’re going to talk about history and government a little too. Even so, there’s this undercurrent of something I just can’t quite figure out.

I follow her in my old beat up Jeep. She’s driving a Mercedes from like 1970 or something, but it looks like it is brand new, very shiny, very cared for. I’m kind of surprised it’s not a convertible or painted red. She tells the parking attendant to let me in, and he gives me a good look as I drive in, like he could recognize me in a police line-up if he has to later. There’s an extra space next to the Mercedes where I park, and shit! Someone else she knows starts talking to her as we start walking away from the cars. She introduces me as a fellow student from her class, but it’s like her friend knows it’s a joke, smiles and gives me a good look. Yep, the dick is looked at too!