Friday, March 18, 2011

Size Matters - I married Mr. Pinky Dick.

My husband has been out of work for almost 6 months now. I’ve taken a second job as a waitress at the Red Lobster in Plano three nights a week to keep us afloat. Connor worked for almost 15 years at a large defense contractor in the Dallas area, content to work as a maintenance man on the third shift. He passed up several opportunities to move into management. He has no confidence or ambition. When things slowed down at the plant last year, they cut out a shift and he got laid off.

My mother never liked Connor, she told me I was making a big mistake when I married him the summer after I graduated from McKinney North High School. I should have listened to her. Mom doesn’t think he is much of a man. She’s right about that. Connor might as well have a pussy, because his dick isn't much bigger than my pinky finger.

My big sister Diana and I talked about sex when I was in 8th grade and started getting curious about boys. She told me a boy’s penis gets as big and hard as a cucumber when they get excited. Diana told me her current boyfriend’s cock was as almost as big around as the can of Coke she was drinking. She showed me how her fingers couldn’t even wrap all the way around it.
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