A Sort Pecker Story

Once in I was in my 20’s my friends set me up on a blind date. I didn’t ask for it. My friends were convinced that because they were married I should be too. So in order to help me find Mr. Right, they arranged for blind dates. Sometimes they invited me to dinner and when I got there a man would be waiting. This is our friend they would say. He dropped by a minute ago so we invited him too. Yeah, sure.
But on the date I’m referring to I knew it was a date and worn down by constant badgering, I broke my own rule, which is never, never, never go on a blind date.
I don’t believe I will ever meet Mr. Right on a blind date because Mr. Right shouldn’t have any problems in finding female companionship. When a man has to ask his friends- all three of them, if they ‘know anybody’ then something is wrong.
In this case he was boring. He was also a little fat. He lacked imagination. I do not remember a single thing we talked about during dinner or if we talked at all. Sadly, I do remember getting very drunk and this is what made me sleep with him. I regretted it, of course, because he was very bad in bed.
I was simply bored. At first I tried. I tried to at least make things pleasant. He had a small pecker and I thought to begin with that after he was hard it would be a good size. That’s normal with most men. I sucked him a long time and he was still half limp and small. I started to think I was losing my touch. Then horribly it dawned on me that this might be as hard as it gets.
I gave up on pleasant. He got on top of me and I couldn’t feel him inside me. He poked around for a while and I stared at the ceiling politely waiting for him to finish. It seemed to go on forever. I don’t know if he came or not.
The next day my friends were asking me if I was going to see him again and I said no. They asked why and I said we didn’t connect. They said he really liked me and I said no thanks. They kept on and on and on and finally I just blurted out, “He has a short pecker.”
I have mean friends. They told everybody they knew what I said. A year later they were at a wedding. He was there and he saw a girl he wanted to dance with, but he was too shy to ask. My friend T actually said to him, “Don’t let the fact that you have a short pecker slow you down.”
The moral to this story is it’s not how big your pencil is, it’s how you sign your name. So please learn to write.