I have a revelation for y’all today: My best escort friend is a size queen. Surprise, surprise! But just because the girl is of that mind doesn’t mean she’s one of those “I want the world’s biggest and I won’t quit till I find it” girls. Size is important to her…but there is such a thing as “too big.”
For every few stories she relates about guys with nothing between their legs, she’ll have one or two about the opposite…guys who are just too big for what she views as her Royal Tightness. Regardless, no story about a prospective suitor goes untold without her detailing the man’s endowment. In her particular case, there seems to be no happy medium. It’s feast or famine – or “all or nothing at all.” What are ya gonna do? Probably punishment for being so shallow.
I myself am not a huge size queen. In my case, that means my obsession doesn’t lie with breast or booty size. And that’s a good thing for my aforementioned friend. While her booty is sizable (at least for a caucasian), her breasts would be the stuff of derision were the shoe on the other foot. I’ve always found that curious. Ya know…girls who get all judgmental about guys’ units when they themselves were as shortchanged as the men they seemingly live to make fun of.
Anyway…all this girl’s stories (they’re abundant and forthcoming at virtually any time as she has no filter) got me to thinking about the sexual aptitudes and performances of past partners as related to the size of their breasts – which I judge to be more or less the mirror image of what a guy has in his pants. And guess what! To the best of my recollection, the relationship is inverse!
Just for example, I’ve had a grand total of two groupies who found my blog and wanted to sleep with me based on its editorial content. One was reasonably busty – though not anomalous. And the other was anomalous. She was just plain huge. Both were without partners in life – and both just not happening between the sheets….which is probably why neither had a partner!
More anecdotal evidence: Many years ago, I knew a girl with a giant chest – and a hearty laugh for my irreverent observations. I managed to seduce her one night and I don’t have to tell you the rest. Another superbusty girl alone in the world – and for good reason. Once again…zero in the clinches.
I’m sure I could give you numerous examples of much less endowed women who blew me away in bed. But why bother? I think I’ve already made the point. People obsessed with size are missing the bigger picture. And that is that their obsession could be getting in the way of their enjoyment. Let’s say I were the type of guy who ruled out all prospective girlfriends who weren’t extremely busty. What would I get? A bunch of ex-girlfriends who fell short of my expectations sexually – if experience is any indication. And who would I be hurting? Myself! That’s who(m)!
Now I can’t tell you the difference between how a big one feels entering one of my orifices versus a small one – because I’m not a woman – nor gay. But it just seems that the “bigger they are” meaning the bigger the size queen they are – the less fulfilled they’ll be for their harsh judgement.
So if there are any girls out there who think I’m kind of interesting…but are afraid they might not measure up if we were to meet? Get over it because by me…the bigger they are…the worse they ball. Plus…at this point in my life, it’s not like I don’t know what a big pair of tits feel like. So what’s the big deal?