ATTACK OF THE GHERKINS: I CAME, I TRIED, I SAID NO!

I decided that I was going to give him a real chance. Who knows, maybe I could grow to like intercourse with him over time. I didn’t want to let a seemingly good man slip through my fingers that easily so I decided to silence my shallow little voice and see if I could find something that would outweigh the negative.

On our next date he made dinner again. I got to his house around 7:30/8pm and he was in the kitchen cooking. He was an absolute sweaty mess, but the apartment smelled divine so I didn’t care. At around midnight we ate his Asian rice dish: with chicken, micro greens, and a boiled egg, it was very delicious. His table manners, once again were nowhere to be seen. By this point I had to accept that, this is who he is when in the comfort of his home. This was not the case, as I would later find out.

After dinner we retreated to the bedroom. Once again he smoked his cigarette as we sipped our red wine. He mentioned drama with his family and their constantly asking him for money. He became quite negative with the conversation and it was as if I could see that energy floating through the puff of cigarette smoke into my positive energy air, and that was no good. I retreated to the bathroom and to my surprise I had just started my period. I came back out and said I was going to go to the store for some tampons. It was from this moment and many actions throughout our dating that cemented my final decision.

He insisted on going to the store for me. Now, some women may read this and say ‘aww so cute, he offered to go for you, how romantic’. I did not see it that way. Many women have pains during their time of the month. I am not that girl. I take boxing classes, spin classes; hell I even ran a few half-marathons during my time. So I was not a damsel in distress and it was much easier for me to go and get it myself than it would be for me to tell him what I wanted and if they didn’t have it have to keep going back and forth over the phone. I threw on my shoes and I walked to the Duane Reade, got what I needed and went back. When I returned he kept asking me questions about my period, he even asked to see it. I was like ‘What the fuck dude- really?’I rudely shut him down and got into bed.

Our next date was to see Wonder Woman. I met him at his place and when I arrived there he was again drinking wine and smoking-ugh!

I rested across the bed and he instantly got aroused. We all know when there’s an entire evening date planned and when your man wants to have sex and all the plans turn to crap. I was not about to let that happen. I wanted to see this movie I did not want to be stuck in the house all day with mediocre sex. He performed the usual; fingers and oral – mission accomplished I was satisfied. Then it was my turn to balance the scales for him. I attempted to perform oral on him. I say attempted because the normal tricks that I usually apply, that often leave my partners shaking, did not work on his miniature manhood. I was in foreign territory and since what I was doing wasn’t working I decided to stop. His exact words to me were “you have to make love to my cock” YUCK! I absolutely hated hearing him say cock. In my mind I’m thinking; a “cock” is at least 6” inches, what you have is anatomically, simply a penis. He sits back and gets himself erect and we have sex and he finally has his, now familiar, multiple orgasms. When we’re done I went to the bathroom to take a quick shower before we headed out and I came back to him fully dressed, smoking and drinking. His hands, mouth and body were just in my every thing and he’s not going to shower or at least wipe off? Again-WTF!We headed out, caught the train heading downtown. We arrived with a little over an hour so we got some Italian nearby.

We ordered mussels as an appetizer and a lamb dish for our entrée. I will admit the waiter was a bit slow, but the manners that I once assumed was reserved for his home were on full display on the corner of Broadway. Snapping his fingers at the waiter, cursing him under his breath, and giving him snide comments. When we were done eating the mussels he lifted the bowl to his face and drank the broth, the way a child drinks the sugary milk from a bowl of cereal. I was utterly embarrassed.

The movie was great, when it was done we walked to Magnolia bakery because I wanted banana pudding then we got a drink at a Mexican restaurant. I got a margarita and he got a shot of tequila. He asked the bartender for what I later learned wash chili-grasshoppers. Again, WTF! (So just a little input, my last ex was extremely basic in his food choices and that drove me insane. I like spices, herbs, greens, and various cuisines. So G_OKC was a warm welcome to what I had to deal with before but I drew the line at insects. He was way more extreme than I would prefer). Anyway, we finished our drinks and headed out. He wanted me to come back to his place but I was not in the mood. I knew if I went back he would want to have sex again and that idea did not entertain me at all.

Our next date didn’t happen for a while. He went on vacation to Puerto Rico for a week, when he returned I was away camping. When we finally saw each other again it had been over three weeks. I must admit, I did miss him a little bit; but thinking back I believe it was more the dates we went on vs. me missing him. He showed me pictures from his vacation and we talked about past relationships and work. I showered then we got in bed. We did our usual sex routine but then he started sniffing my armpits, behind my knee, my thigh and vagina. I’m thinking to myself did he become a bloodhound while we were apart. What was with all the sniffing? His response was that’s where you can detect the person’s “IT”. Um- ok! The next morning I showered (notice I said “I”) then we headed out for work (second time, a night of messy sex and no shower).

Our next date was a few weeks later. He had gotten caught up with work; I was trying to get back into my running and I was subconsciously attempting my distance to breakup technique. (This is a technique that has happened to me and I have learned to mastered over time: There is someone you are dating but when you’re no longer interested, rather than being honest and ending it, you simply stop talking to them, hoping the feeling will be mutual and you’ll be let off the hook) It didn’t work. SO, once again, I met him at his house. He was going to cook but I knew that woule mean us eating well after midnight or later so I said we have to go out, and I was starving. We went to a tiny fusion restaurant a few blocks from his home. We got a table and once again his manners annoyed me. He kept trying to tell the chef how he should cook the food: add a little spice, add some lemon, try gravy blah, blah, and blah. I had to tell him to stop, it was obvious the servers and chef was getting annoyed and not that I thought they would, but I didn’t want to chance them spitting in my food because he was being a jerk.

On the walk back there was a new sex store that had recently opened up. He joked that one day we should go in there and buy some toys. To myself I thought ‘yea, a strap on for you’.Then he decided to bring up the issue that I don’t perform oral sex on him or in his words ‘you never suck my cock’. Again, my skin crawled at hearing him say that because again he didn’t have a cock he had a penis.

For the record, I love giving someone I like oral, I am in fact very good at it. But giving head to a gherkin was not my idea of a good time. In addition to that I didn’t see the need to give him oral. He was having an orgasm (multiples to be exact) every time we had sex; so what exactly did he need oral for? This actually led to a heated debate on the walk back to his apartment and into his room.

Now by this time, I had come to the conclusion that I no longer wanted to be with him. I wasn’t being totally sexually satisfied so why continue to lie to myself and give pity pussy just because he was a nice guy. So this was my one opening to swiftly end the situation without hurting his feelings without revealing my true feelings.

My excuse for not giving him oral, yet always ready to receive was simple. I never had a G-spot orgasm from intercourse with him, and to be totally honest, I barely have G-Spot orgasms in general (even with big dicks). So the only way I’m walking away totally satisfied is when I get oral.

For a man if a girl gives you oral; you may or may not orgasm but once you have sex I’m certain you’re fucking until you cum. Now if you’re a man that has lasting power, maybe you can stay hard enough to please your woman. But the harsh reality is that many men do not last long enough to bring their woman to G-spot orgasm. And even if you’re not a marathon-fucker (one erection for an extremely long time) you can be a sprint-fucker (a man that cums, then takes a few minutes break then get hard again to repeat the cycle), long enough for your partner to feel satisfied. He was very much one and done and the effort I would need to put in to get him back up would not yield me satisfactory rewards.

Ultimately I would not budge on my response and it was not up for discussion, as I was not going to change my mind. To him, getting oral was a very important part of his sexual relationships and the idea of being with a woman that didn’t want to suck his (little) cock would not do. It was now around 11pm, I sat on his bed for a few more minutes as the silence and tension filled the already smoked filled air. I said I was going to leave but he said I should stay because it was late, but his energy said ‘get the fuck out!’ About two minutes later I said I was going to head home. I grabbed my bag and left and we never spoke again.

On my walk home, I talked to myself (like we all occasionally do- so don’t judge me), and me and my other personalities all came to the same conclusion. We cannot see a relationship with a gherkin. Not just any gherkin but a rude, smoking, insect eating, no manners having, non showering, nail polish on his toes wearing, gherkin. Could I have tolerated all the before mentioned if his penis was 3-4” bigger, possibly so. But I will not tolerate all that and a little dick. It’s simply not worth it.

Attack of the Gherkins: Part 3A (Just Give it a Try)

I didn’t want to believe that I could be so shallow. I didn’t want to believe that if the right man came along, and the only negative was his penis size, that I would kick him to the curb. I wasn’t that bad- was I?

I started talking to G_OKC in April 2017. He arranged for our first date to be at a wine & cheese bar on the west side, just beyond Times Square. I left from work and hopped on the train to meet him. When I got off the train, for some weird reason, my logistics were totally screwed up and I had no clue where I was. I started walking, using my Google maps app but after 5 minutes I realized I was going in the wrong direction. I was in heels, a tight pencil skirt (looking very sexy, I must admit) and then it started to rain, I did not want to walk anymore. I tried hailing a cab, with no luck after 5 minutes. I eventually called an Uber. It arrived 10 minutes later and I was on my way to meet him.

When I arrived the restaurant was quite crowded. He saw me before I saw him, he walked to embrace me with a hug and he asked the hostess for a table. He was very handsome; great stature, bold glasses, distinct looks and an accent that was a combination of Indian and British. As dining at a wine and cheese bar was new to me, I let him choose the wine and food. He was a computer engineer and did private catering as a hobby, so I knew I could trust his taste. I thought to myself, finally!- a man with a career and evolved culinary knowledge. (This was very important to me. I love food! Many people eat to live, while I live to eat- #HaveFoodWillTravel is my motto. He was such a breath of fresh air, especially since my last ex was a fast food, 25cent snack at the corner store food junkie. The date went well, compared to what I was used to. The only issue that day was his smoking. I hate dating smokers, but I said to myself- if everything else is good, could I live with it? The answer was yes, so I didn’t hold it against him.

On the next date he invited me over for dinner. In the comfort of his own home the uniqueness of his character was much more obvious. He had on some ethnic print harem pants; his flip-flops showed his awkward hobbit-shaped feet, with his big toes painted a bright green. In my mind, I had casted much judgments, but I remembered he was at home and as long as he didn’t walk outside with me looking like that it wasn’t so bad.

He made, quite possibly, the most delicious pork dish I ever had, with flavorful brown gravy with bright citrus notes and jasmine rice, simply delicious. His table manners, on the other hand, were totally despicable. I used my fork and knife, he was a caveman, and he used his fingers. I finished my food and gravy with a spoon, and he picked up the bowl and drank the sauce. When he was done, he placed his foot on the kitchen table and rubbed his slightly plumped belly- no table manners what so ever. I should have called it a night then but I was optimistic. (You see, this was during the first season of American Gods. If you haven’t already seen it, you must watch it. There is a scene where an Indian man, who’s actually a genie, has sex with an unsuspecting human male passenger. In the scene he drops his pants and this mammoth penis is on screen #wow. Now, I’ve heard all the rumors about Asian and Indian men having small penises but I didn’t want to believe the stereotype and I had hope that maybe I was finally finding the total package, so I decided to stay and see for myself.)

In his room, I was laying on his bed (fitted orange dress and strappy cork heels), while he smoked his cigarette and blew the smoke out of the window. We spoke with ease, but I could tell he had something on his mind. So, I asked him what he was thinking. It was the first time a man had ever asked for permission to kiss me. I told him, yes but only after he brushed his teeth. With that, he jumped up, went to the bathroom to freshen up and came back new and improved. We commenced to kiss. His lips, upon viewing them, seemed small, but once we started kissing had the characteristics of an iceberg status (small on the surface, yet large and powerful underneath) those lips made me weak in the knees. In that moment I wanted his lips everywhere. He continued to ask my permission with every advance he made: hands around my waist, down on my ass, laying me down on the bed, hiking up my dress, kissing behind my knees, in between my thighs, kissing over my thong, then removing them to kiss what lay beneath. At every advance my body wanted more and more. The power his mouth possessed on me that evening was explosive beyond measure. He brought my body to screaming pleasure three times with just his tongue and fingers. I thought to myself Thank God.

As I lay there spent on his bed he went back to smoking another cigarette and drinking his wine. We started talking about sexual gratifications and we got on the topic of penis size. He asked what my ideal was, and I was honest and said 6” being my minimum and around 8” being my maximum (I don’t want to have an involuntary hysterectomy because my man has donkey dick- some things are too big for me). When I told him my answer he was very honest about his size. There is nothing I hate more than a man that tells lies on his dick but his being honest was a chance for me to really see if size really does matter. Could I let a “little” thing be a big issue? I was willing to see.

When he finished his cigarette he brushed his teeth then came to bed. He started me back up again with his lovely mouth and fingers. He got a condom and I was able to see exactly what he had. There was so much disappointment in my rapidly beating heart at that moment. His penis may have been the size of my middle finger at full erectness. I was in utter disbelief. We started in missionary- I felt absolutely nothing. I then forced him to switch to doggy style, I felt something but it was still closer to nothing. Because he made me reach orgasm five times already I figured I could give him one… or so I thought.

Now, normally when my partner reaches orgasm I hear a few groans, they grab tighter, cum, and come down off their sexual high. That night, I had experienced brand new territory.

It started with his moaning, then his pushes became more rapid, then his body began to shake. He slammed the wall with his fist and continued to convulse. I’m bent over, facing the wall; wondering- is he having a seizure? What the fuck is going on back there? He must have read my body reacting because he then explained that he has multiple orgasms. He must have been climaxing for what seemed like 10 minutes, after he had already cum. Well that’s different, I thought to myself.

When he was finally done he pulled me close, we kissed and he wrapped his legs and arms around me. Lying next to him, ignoring all the questions and concerns looming in my brain, it felt good. His skills were great, minus his obvious shortcomings, but I hoped for a man like him for so long: good career, cultured, well traveled, foodie, can hold a conversation, accepts my weird-uniqueness, genuinely into me, and a gentleman. I could try and look beyond the “small” “insignificant” physical issue right? I tried it for a few months and it would all come to an end in part 3B.

(Attack of the Gherkins finale in Part 3B, Next Week)

Attack of the Gherkins: Part 2

I needed confirmation going forward. I needed to know what I would be getting myself into. But, if I asked a potential candidate for evidence of his size I could easily be misinterpreted as ‘she only wants to fuck’. So, I tried a little experiment.

I started talking to S_Tinder in the summer time. We talked about hobbies, career, and relationship goals, etc. He was Indian by ethnicity and from Brooklyn. His profile picture showed me a man with a lot of swag (FYI- I was a sucker for swag at the time). Tan skinned, slicked back hair, dark shades, nice lips, and good teeth. We spoke for a few weeks, then the subject of sex came up. Great, I thought, here’s my opening. He inquired about my last sexual experience, how long I normally wait, and what I was “looking for”. I told him, I, at that moment, was very go with the flow. I wasn’t trying to be in a relationship just yet. I’ve jumped into relationships way too fast in the past and they only ended with me being single so I didn’t care to rush “the title”. As conversations about sex progressed I outright asked him, “how big he was?” He said 7”. I’ve known many men to lie on their dicks so I wanted proof. I then asked for a picture. And I could tell it was not 7”, at least not in the picture he sent to me, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt, as I liked his personality and energy.

A few weeks later I agreed to meet him in Brooklyn, which I rarely ever do. But I was going to an event in Brooklyn later that night so it was more convenient. I hopped into his jeep and we were on our way. He definitely was cool to hang with in person, the sexual chemistry was there, and we stopped at a local store for condoms then headed to the hotel. In the room the kisses and clothes flew and shortly after the madness ensued.

In the store he picked up some inhalable shit that smelled like acetone = strike 1.

He confessed that he had taken a hit of cocaine because he was nervous to meet me = strike 2.

He pulled out his penis to have sex and it was probably closer to 5” = strike 3.

**Any man reading this, try this experiment: Buy a ruler, go home, get yourself erect and then measure. You will see that 5” and 7” is not the same thing. Not even close. Now there is a key for every lock. But some locks require bigger keys to open. Mine is one of them.

So he commenced to go down on me; it was just ok, nothing to write home about, but I had my orgasm so mission accomplished. Then we started to have sex. He was a sweaty, acetone inhaling mess. The hair that was very sexy in images was a sweaty falling mess; all over my face and neck. There were a few moments when I knew if we just switched positions it could be a bit better but it never happened because he came in under 5 minutes. I was #done. I called my friends asked them where we were meeting then had him drive me there. On the drive he asked me how it was, men- if you have to ask after the fact, you know the answer, and I did not hold my tongue.

“It was ok”, I said. But you are definitely not 7”; you’re more like 5” and you have way too much shit going on with your life for me to get involved with. I don’t do any type of drug and I didn’t want a partner that does drugs either. He understood and asked if we could meet up again for a do-over. I was brutally honest with a clear “never again”. He continued to text me for a few weeks after that but I was not going down that road ever again.

I met C_Tinder last year, in the summer. He was Spanish, from the Bronx, good job, and no drugs and had life and relationship goals for the future.

We could not have started speaking at a more inconvenient time. His close family friend was in the hospital and he visited often. I tried to make time to visit with him but it just didn’t work.

I’m the kind of girl where; if I like someone and the conversation is good I would like to meet you sooner than later. It makes no sense to talk for months online when we only live a train ride away, unless you have something to hide. So I tried, on multiple occasions to set up a casual meet date.

Oh, I’ll be downtown, maybe after you visit your friend we can grab coffee, or whatever- it never worked. We continued to text and face-time for the next couple of weeks. After almost three weeks, I was at dinner with my family and I suggested a date that required a confirming answer. Not a yes or no but an actual date confirmation.

There’s nothing I hate more than asking a man a specific question that requires a specific answer and receiving an answer that’s non-confirming.

And he did just that, so I was livid. I texted back, if you’re not interested just say so. Don’t string me along. He was like OK. Hence we stopped talking.

The seasons changed. I still saw he continued to check out my profile but never made contact. In the New Year, I figured, lets make a fresh start.

I contacted him- let the past be the past and try to see a future. This time the conversation was totally different. Sex talk started almost immediately. I was like whatever, lets see what he’s working with. We face-timed each other. I told him stories of what I would do to him and he started to jerk-off. He was maybe all of 4 ½”, oh so sad. This was one case where I was so happy I did not invest any real time into him. But annoyed because once again here was another gherkin. I continued to be his Girl 6 until he was done then I immediately dropped the call and blocked him on all connections: phone, Tinder, and IG.

Why was I continuously forced to face these things? Why was I not able to find what I wanted sexually? I told my close friend about this and she asked me if it was really that important. I couldn’t help but say yes. I couldn’t imagine living the rest of my life with a gherkin. She, of course, thought I was insane.

If you meet the man of your dreams: romantic, loving, trustworthy, financially sound, and treats you like a queen – would you not be with him because of his small penis? I admitted, it did sound very shallow but I knew myself and I knew that I would always desire what my small sized partner could never give me and in the end, my answer was no.

It wasn’t until a few months later that I met someone that caused me to really consider that alternative.

(Attack of the Gherkins finale in Part 3, Next Week)

Attack of the Gherkins

Gherkin: A gherkin is a variety of cucumber: the West Indian or burr gherkin, which produces a somewhat smaller fruit than the garden cucumber. Gherkins are cooked, eaten raw, or used as a pickle. Gherkins are usually picked when 4-8cm (1-3 inches) in length and pickled in jars or cans with vinegar or brine. (source: Wikipedia.org)

 Gherkins belong as a garnish on a salad, are delicious when dipped in hummus, and are often housed and matured in jars. The gherkins I’ll be discussing in this and the next few posts is not about the fruit (and yes a cucumber is a fruit – it has seeds). The gherkins I’m referring to are little dicks (yea- I said it!) The little (1-5”) dicks in the world and the harsh reality I was faced with when I realized that the sex world as I knew it was under attack with all these gherkins roaming around.

A little back-story.

I lost my virginity at 14: he was a 16, Puerto Rican, and lived in the next building over. I had seen him from my second floor window all spring and he saw me too. One hot day after graduation from my school I called him out the window and he met me in the staircase. We chatted a bit and exchanged numbers. The next day I saw him walking past my window again and I called out to him. This time he asked me to come to his apartment, he lived in with his mother and we had sex. Many women dream of a love filled, sexual exchange for their first time. I was not that girl. I just wanted to see what all the hype was about and to get it over with; and I did exactly that. He was perfectly shaped and well endowed around 6.5-7” (I knew because late night I was up watching adult TV when I should have been asleep). So in the time of an hour I went from virgin to not. I will admit it wasn’t the horror story I’ve heard from other women. It was quite enjoyable for me and essentially that’s how my teenage and adolescent years went. I loved sex. I couldn’t get enough of it. If I could have it every day I would and I was the true definition of insatiable. Growing up we just called people with high libidos ‘freaks’ and I could honestly care less- I was happy and satisfied.

From the age of 14 until my mid 20s I was blessed with the sexual partners that matched both my libido and southern-physical-requirements. Not once, during my 16 plus years of sex had I come across a gherkin. So imagine my surprise when I broke up with my ex in 2015 and started dating again I met my first one. OH! The horror!

I started speaking to R_Badoo in January of 2015. He was very cute, Latino, lived in the Bronx, and was very sweet. We spoke on the phone a few times, light conversation and sexual flirtation nothing too heavy. We met up one day after work and went for a walk. We talked about running, work, and goals, etc. He seemed very nice, when we kissed before parting ways his kiss was very powerful. To myself I thought any man that kisses like that would definitely be great in bed. On our next date we agreed to hang out at his place on Super Bowl. I met him at his place we went and got dinner. After eating at the local Spanish restaurant, we went back to his place and relaxed in his room. We started to kiss and clothes started to come off, he attempted to have sex raw (no condom) and I stopped that shit real quick. We put on all our clothes walked 20 minutes to the Duane Reade to buy condoms.

I let him choose which condoms to buy- as a test. Like many men, coating their egos, he grabbed the famous magnum (black box, gold wrappers). I had already seen his business and I thought to my self, I hope he’s a grower. (a grower: is a term used to describe a man with a penis that appears small until he is aroused and then it ‘grows’ in length. A shower: is a man that is exactly what you see both flaccid and erect). We got back to his place started back up and to my disappointment he definitely was not a grower. He was exactly what he showed… A gherkin. I give him points for his libido and ability to keep going but it was overall very minimal, in every aspect of the word. When we were done I gathered up all my broken hopes of phenomenal sex I had anticipated for that day and he paid for my cab home. We talked from time to time and he continued asking me to come over but I always declined. I wanted what I had known majority of my sex life. What was this little gherkin and why would the lord punish a man like that? I thought to myself as the time passed. I told myself I would be wiser next time and fuck! I was fooled again.

I started talking to X_OKC sometime in 2016/17 (honestly not sure). He had mentioned he taught at UFC and I used my ClassPass app to take one of his classes. The class was great and when it was done we went for dinner and drinks in the area.

He was cool, funny, and we got along well. He didn’t move to fast so all in all the first date went well.

The second date we met much later; we met for drinks then went back to his place. I mentioned my sore back and he commenced to give me a massage. Naturally we began to undress and in the light of his room everything was a disaster. The body that I thought was nice and toned was actually flubby. And his teeth… I didn’t notice on the first date because we sat side by side but when I think back there was a weird smell coming from his mouth. When we met earlier that night and walked to his place I smelled it again. And, when his rough teeth grazed my neck and he pulled away I finally saw full on, the horror that was his teeth.

Imagine you eat a poppy seed bagel and all the black seeds get stuck in your teeth. Now imagine, you keep eating poppy seed bagels, never brush you teeth and/or rinse our your mouth. That was the horror that was his teeth. Lord Help Me! I have to work on my exit strategy going forward. I should have run right then. 

He tried to kiss me but I said I was sick and didn’t want to give him my cold. He tried to lick my breast and I wouldn’t let him. (I have piercings and I did not want whatever was manifesting in his mouth to infiltrate my breasts). He asked me to give him head and it took all my energy to hold back my laughter. Head to what??? He had to be joking. Right!!

Disclaimer: Men if you grab your penis with your thumb and forefinger to stroke, you’re probably a gherkin; at least in my book. There are many women that feel 6” is too big for them and that’s fine for them. But I never want a snack. I want the whole damn meal. If you’re less than 6” you should move on to the next woman.

Eventually he couldn’t get it to stay up and I was not going to assist in any manner. Any effort I would put it would not garner me any rewards for me so I just sat there and played with my phone #sorrynotsorry. After 20 minutes I said I had an early morning and I called an Uber and went home.

Out of this situation I established a one new rule. 1-NO Yuck Mouth! I don’t need perfect teeth but they have to be clean and decent looking.

And I was faced with a new dilemma. How could I guarantee my future time would not be wasted on gherkins? I wish I could say I am one of those women where sex isn’t important in the relationship but I’d be lying like a rug. Size Does Matter and like I said in the beginning; I love sex and I want it with a sizeable penis and an insatiable nature. So how do I guarantee that my future partner has a nice sized penis without asking for confirmation and/or without coming across as a hoe that only wants sex?

(Attack of the Gherkins continues in Part 2)