Chapter 16

I couldn't help remembering and wondering about Floyd's remark that my eight-inch whacker was too much cock for any one man. Oh, I'll admit I had to go slow with Nell when we were first married. I thought for a while I might have to wear a rubber block to shorten my stroke a couple of inches. But we soon got adjusted and if I held back she'd tell me to give her all of it. And, as I've said, I never argue with a female where pussy is concerned.

But I was in for a surprise! I got the real lowdown on prongs one day when I went to get my annual checkup from Doc Dawson.

Doc was an ornery old fart, relishing a new piece of tail occasionally. In fact, one time, some of us caught him in the act. He had a cute broad on his table with her knees cocked up and her tantalizing pussy giving his sly old eyes a treat. His bald dome was glistening with sweat. He had his whacker out, stiff as a poker. He would jam it into her, then draw the table back and forth to get his stroke. How come we knew all this? Well, we were standing on a table outside his locked office door, peeping over the transom, when a table leg broke and we tumbled to the floor. The office gal was out and there were no waiting patients.

After Doc got rid of his lady friend, he called us in and gave us merry hell.

"You bastards!" he raged. "You sneaking, lousy bastards! I was only a couple of strokes away from shooting my wad into that marvelous pussy when you guys fell off the table, making me jump and pop off into thin air."

At that, Doc was a swell egg. Right now, he was staring at my jock. "Isn't that thing ever going to shrivel up, Wade?" he asked, grinning.

"I hope not, Doc. But tell me, is it really too much cock for one man?"

"Well, maybe," he said, hesitating. "It all depends on where you're going to hide it. But I do know of one whacker that's a lot bigger." I stared at him. "You got to be kidding!" "No, Wade." He shook his head. "I'd tell you about it, but you know I'm not supposed to gossip about my patients."

"Right, Doc," I said, as he got ready to listen to my chest with his scope. "But I'm curious. I wouldn't breathe a word to a soul."

"All right, if you'll keep your big mouth shut, but this penis of John's is a sight to behold. It simply isn't human. It's damn near a foot long. John's daddy must have been kin to a horse."

"I pity the poor guy," I said. "That's worse than having a midget stick like some of my short-peckered friends."

Doc looked at my throat. "That's right, Wade, anyway, in case you don't know it, a female's main thrill comes from a little muscle just behind her clitoris. John would be digging too deep. You know he married a little girl not too long back, and he jammed her uterus way out of place. We had a hell of a time getting it back where it belonged. As you know, she gave him the gate, and I don't blame her. I'll bet she'll be scared to death of any prick from now on."

"But what'll John do? I mean, how'll he get his cookies off?"

"Expect he'll pull his pud once in a while. But you know that can be mighty lonesome, as the kids tell me."

"Kids, Doc?"

He felt the glands in my neck. "That's right, Wade. My own boy and his pal were out squirrel hunting one evening and darkness caught up with 'em. They were passing John's cottage—he lives on an acre south of town—and they spied on him. The stinkers! I gave 'em hell for it."

"And they saw plenty?"

"And how! Wade, you sure you'll keep mum if I tell you what it was?"

"Absolutely, Doc, you know me."

"Yeah, I do." He grinned. "Anyway, the youngsters parked down the gravel road a piece from John's house, then sneaked up to it. It was dark, but they saw a lantern glimmer in John's stable. It was black as pitch outside, so they tiptoed behind the stable and peeked through a big crack."

"Caught old John jacking off?"

"No, not that, but they saw something they'd never dreamed of. There stood John on a big stool behind his little Shetland mare. He had that ungodly penis out and was massaging the mare's slit with it." Doc paused and blew out his breath. "And here's the tough part to believe: that little mare was holding her tail up, looking back at John and whinnying!"

"The hell!" I exclaimed. "Looks like she was used to getting it."

"No doubt she was. And she was going to like it."

I slipped my pants on. "And did John—" "He didn't miss it. He rammed that penis in all the way to his balls and started hunching and farting like a horny stud."

"And did they get anywhere with it, or—" "It seemed to thrill both of 'em. The youngsters told me that after John squirmed and pumped for a minute or two, he shouted and grunted like a boar, then wilted and slumped on the mare's rump. She whinnied again, and twisted her neck to look at him. The kids said she seemed to be grinning!"

I buttoned my shirt. "Doc," I said, shrugging, "can we actually blame the poor guy? Nature handed him a dirty deal, hanging a monster cock on him that no woman could take without screaming."

Doc straightened his stooped shoulders and shook his head.

"You're right, Wade. John really can't be blamed. He'd have to hunt through all the whore houses from hell to breakfast before he could find a prostitute willing, or able, to take him. That penis of his, it's a crying shame!"

"I pity the poor guy, Doc."

"So do I, Wade. Now you're sure you won't—"

"Cross my heart, Doc. I never heard a thing you said."

"Good! And I've told those youngsters if they spill a word about John, I'll castrate them."

On my way home, I couldn't get John out of my mind. He was really to be pitied, but it made me a bit nauseated to think of the way he was getting his jollies. Yet, I realized that not all of us get our rocks off every time we crave. And that included me!