“Lies.”
“You think everyone else is wrong and you are right? That a penis size matters?”
“I don’t think everyone else is wrong. I think they’re all delusional.” I lean back on my chair, looking the Prissy One over.
“Size matters in everything else. Why wouldn’t it matter for a guy’s dick size? Have you tried putting on a shoe that is a size too big or too small? Fitting a square peg in a round hole?”
“But that is different!” The Prissy One counters.
“Lies, just lies. Told to appease the ego of guys who are unlucky in the big cock department. You know why?” I ask. “Because there’s absolutely nothing a guy can do to increase his dick size, despite all the emails in my junk folder. Women can get bigger boobs.” I stare pointedly at her chest before continuing, “Ass implants, and lip injections. What can a guy do about his dick? Nothing, I tell you. So long ago someone created the lie and everyone jumped on it, content to do so and save men’s fragile dick egos.”
They all look at me uncomfortably. Guys and their dicks. They’re so insecure about them.
The Prissy One does not know when to shut up. “Then, you’re saying that if a man has a small penis, he cannot please a woman?”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying size matters. But if you’re a guy and your tickler doesn’t scratch the itch, don’t worry, there’s still hope for you.”
I throw the bait and wait for prissy girl to bite. She doesn’t disappoint. Logan’s already covering his mouth to stop a laugh. I’m sure he can guess what I’m going to say next since I had a similar conversation with Skye in front of him before. Skye just hangs her head, her face already turning pink. Liam narrows his eyes at me. I can tell he’s evenly divided between being amused and offended on behalf of the male species, if not himself.
“So,” she asks. “What can a man with a small penis do, according to you?” She’s seething.
“With his dick? Not much. But he also has a tongue and he better be damn good with it.” I take another sip of my beer.
The Prissy One is as slow as she is—well, prissy. She lets out a little gasp. Her face is burning. Maybe all that blushing isn’t fake after all. “You are disgusting!”
“I take it blowjobs are also out of the picture for you?”
“That is so—so vulgar! But I guess coming from you and the language you use and all the experience you seem to have, I should not be surprised.” And then she raises her nose at me.
The whole table tenses, waiting for what I’m going to say next. She called me disgusting, vulgar, and a slut, all in the same breath.
I slowly put my beer down and lean closer to the table. I’m about to rip her a new one when Bruno chirps in.
“I like blowjobs.”
All eyes are on him.
“What? I do. And there’s nothing wrong with oral sex.”
I see it when Skye looks at him and mouths Thank you.
Bruno saves the Prissy One for now, but the night’s still young.
I look around the table like nothing happened and ask, “Who’s hungry? All this dick talk has me starving.”
When everyone groans at that, I hide my face behind a menu and just smile to myself. My job here is done.
I never saw Tiff slash Tate slash Barbie slash The Prissy One again. Wonder why . . .