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“Oh…I see what you mean.”Allie sits a little straighter, the tiny bones of her spine pressing against her smooth skin. I could press kisses on each bump, and make her shiver. “So what happened?”
“She broke up with me and then the rumors started.”
“Rumors about your size?”
“Yeah.”
“Positive or negative?”
“That’s just it.” I shrug even though she can’t see the mannerism. “When people ask the question ‘does size matter?’, most people would say yes. Most guys would want a ten-inch cock. Women seem to have a fascination with size, but in my experience, it doesn’t match reality.”
“So girls were negative about it?”
“Girls were intrigued and then scared.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I tell her. “I never knew if girls really liked me or if they just wanted a chance to see what was in my pants. When I joined the military, I thought I’d get away from it, but there’s no privacy when you’re on active service, and they gave me the nickname Snake.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
I’m not a man who jokes easily. The nickname felt like a slap, but I got used to it over time. “There are a lot of people in this world living through hell. Walking around with a nickname I’d rather not have seems like a tiny drop in an ocean of problems.”
“How did it makeyoufeel, though?” Allie emphasizes theyouand I dig my fingers into the sand, clawing for the coolness beneath the top layer. Her hair moves in the wind, little tendrils shifting, and I focus on the glossiness of the strands and not on how uncomfortable I feel that she might be judging everything I say.
“It made me feel exposed. I couldn’t hide from what people knew about me…something that should be private…and I had to just accept the mixed feelings that come with it. Guys being envious and women’s fascination, which is kind of fetishistic.”
“This is interesting,” Allie says. “I wonder if it’s the same as women with big breasts.”
“Women can’t hide their breasts,” I say. “They’re just there. Whether they cover them, or show them in revealing tops, men will be aware of their size and imagine them unclothed. Men with big dicks can hide them for the most part, although wearing any kind of sweatpants can reveal more than is socially acceptable.”
“So, does that make it better or worse than women in those circumstances?”
“I couldn’t speak for someone else’s experiences.”
She makes an agreeing sound and I shift to get a little closer so I can hear her more clearly.
“And now that you’ve left the military?”
“People don’t get to leave the military. I mean, we leave, but it’s still there, all the time, every day.”
“Are you still friends with the people you were stationed with?”
“Some, and they still call me Snake. It sucks because new people think I’m shady until someone explains the reason for the name.”
“So you have to go back through people finding out your personal details each time you meet someone new.”
I nod and toss the grains in my hand, watching them disappear against the undulating sand before me. “Exactly.”
“And sex. Is it good now you’ve gotten past the virgin first girlfriend?”
The abruptness of the question knocks me off kilter. “It can be. Depends on the person.”
“Physically?”
“Sometimes, but it’s more of a communication thing, I think. The more open someone is to talking about sex, the better chance there is of it being satisfying for both parties, and in my case, the more chance of it being possible!”
I try to make light of it, but Allie pauses and even with her back to me, I feel her close observation of my answer. “Talking in advance or during?” she asks.
