Attack of the Gherkins: Part 2

GHERKINS HEADER -2-01

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)