I do not wish to dribble on, nor be a bit of a bore. I am trying to provide a bit of back story, in case someone does read this, and understands. My inquiry is completely serious. My apologies in advance if my writing is too long. My thanks to those in advance who have the patience to follow, and maybe even know the answer.
Awhile back a very close friend of mine and I met for dinner. He and I have known one another for many years. I was age seventeen, and he was twenty something (ish) years older. We met in the Playboy mansion and became fast friends. He was there attending a party with his then girlfriend. I was attending just because I was. Now, after a few kids and several years later, that same girlfriend is about to officially become his ex- wife.
He and I speak very candidly, knowing most of the important secrets of the other. He has been a paragon of stability in my life. Now that he is both residing and employed here, in New York City, we have the pleasure of spending more of our free time together. His occupation carries the distinction of being in the entertainment (for lack of a better word) industry. In a "behind the scenes" capacity. The sort of vocation that comes with a flashy title, a posh office located on a vertigo- inducing high floor, and the surprise factor of the occasional lady that may happen "forget" to slip on her panties on a day when she has a meeting scheduled with the "boss." You know what I mean. Although stressful, it comes with incredible perks!
With a divorce almost over, and with the aid of this newly acquired position, this allows him to date with ease. Or sometimes simply sample a smorgasbord of beauties who throw themselves at his highly polished Prada shoes. Happily, his life looks incredibly good right now! (it's always great when the "good guys" win!)
We had just been seated to dine. As like close friends do, we just got right into it! As soon as I was placing the napkin on top of my lap, and the staff was still fussing about the table, his I- Phone appeared.
- Let's refer to my dear friend as "Mr. X." Protecting the guilty is very important to me. (myself included.)
Along with the I- Phone came the I- Pictures, to add visual aid/ interest for each vignette.
He began to scroll through the images of "this one- and- that one." All ranging in age, all very pretty, and each unique for one reason or another. This is a common shared way of behavior between us, and is often amusing for me, and great for a laugh or two for us both!
Conversation started something like this...
Mr. X... "Look at her! I'm going to take her to (blank event) next week! What do you think? Look at her here!" (a hot, young, nude girl, looking quite dehydrated in his bed!)
C.C... "Looks like she was a lot of fun... was she any good?" No reply, on to the next...
Mr. X... "No, wait- you HAVE to see this one, she was "Miss (blank state) 2003. She's totally crazy, but is amazing in bed! I'm taking her to St. Thomas next weekend. What do you think?" And so on...
After about a solid half hour of funny yet fragmented stories, accompanied with high resolution visuals, the voyeur in me was totally satisfied. But sometime after the appetizer yet before the main course, something was wrong. I was feeling jealous. But not for the first reason one may conclude. "Mr. X" noticed my vexing state. Even before I could exactly figure it out! Whatever my "tell" was, he zeroed in, and I was "clocked." I was then asked to please articulate what was going through my mind.
Conversation went something like this...
C.C... "I feel jipped- shortchanged."
Mr. X... "Why?"
C.C... "Because I will never know what it's like to have a penis. It's not fair! Look at all the fun you're having. I've always said that if I were a man, I'd certainly be broke! But just for one day... that's all I ask. And it will never happen."
Mr. X... "Okay. If you could, then what would you do with it?"
My sullen spirit instantly picked up as I began to gleefully construct my fantasy in a most rapid fashion! A day filled with ravenous, piggish, and absolutely gluttonous activities, that center around my massive, erect penile glory! For many girls, having a cock for a day can be a thrilling idea!
C.C... "Firstly, I would like you to fund this, because it's going to be expensive, and things would need to happen FAST! Certainly the male version of me would likely be short, play Lotto to an access, and would still live with mother. Most ladies prefer men who are tall, have tight abs, and a job.
Secondly, if the "baloney pony" is mine for only just one day... then nothing is sacred. I will ingest many blue pills. I will not call my doctor, nor go to the emergency room since my erection will far exceed "four to six hours." I would like my cock to appear giant threatening! It would not discriminate! I will call every type of girl- to heck with it... anything with a pulse... Wait- no, retract that, please. Just anything warm, I suppose... and I would have my way with it all! Word would spread across the United States with lightening speed... Agency's would black list me- straight away- Hips would shatter! Scores of orgasms will be faked to my satisfaction until I allow them to go. Basically anything that I would NOT want done to myself, I would like to try! (my apologies for this confession, in advance. After all, this is still my fantasy, and I mean no actual harm.) If in passing, one notices a hole in the wall... it's going in! You know... I recall as a school girl, some story that was being passed around in a hushed whisper about a man who put a ham in a microwave and made a hole in it- "
Mr. X... "STOP! I'm TRYING to EAT. I get it!"
Then he said something so depressing, so horrible, that I was left speechless. A total verbal mind-fuck that I have not yet fully recovered from. He who knows me very well, said the following...
"I would never aid you in this idea, even if it were possible. Do you know why, Little Miss? Because the next day when you woke up, you would wish that you were dead."
SILENCE. His words felt like a punch in the gut. Could this be true?
C.C... "It really is that good, isn't it?"
Mr. X... "Yep."
All the joy felt in simply imagining my silly story/ fantasy- flattened/ splat!
After that, what can a girl do but wonder? Still, a bit depressing. I will never know, nor fully understand how marvelous it must be to have such an appendage between my thighs, one that even squirts! Anyplace! Just aim and shoot!
That being said, he shall never know how marvelous it is to have a lovely, nature given, pink, built in A.T.M. machine, between the thighs. One that so merrily has the most curious habit of spitting out cash, from time to time...
Even so, I'd still trade him. In a heartbeat.
But really... General consensus... It Is Really That Good To Have a Penis? It Is... Isn't it?
Thank You.