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| “Thank you, Lord, for this bountiful… PENIS!” “… bountiful penis.” |
I write heterosexual erotic romances with sex scenes in them. So, you know, penises turn up from time to time. And I follow what seems to be the number one rule when it comes to writing fictional penises, all my characters have absolutely massive dicks.
Now in real life, I like a penis of any shape or size. It’s all about the person it’s attached to, really. (Come to think of it, I’m not completely sure about the ‘any shape’ part of my earlier sentence. Vaguely penis-shaped is preferable. If it were shaped like a teapot or jumbo jet, that might be a little disconcerting.)
And from time to time, I do worry about the fact that apparently every single romantic hero ever written is bigger than average in the trouser department. They’re all packing a twelve inch rock-hard monstrosity that they’re ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. And then five minutes after they’ve orgasmed in some kind of powerful manly way, they’re generally ready to go again.
Are we oppressing menfolk by presenting these unrealistic depictions of manhood? Or does it not matter? Men don’t generally read these sorts of books, anyway.
My women are all slim and beautiful without a zit or a pair of wonky boobs between them. And my men are tall, firm-chested hunks of men whose penises have as much length and girth as credibility will allow.
Can you think of any examples you’ve read where the hero had a below average sized penises? (And you know, roughly half of men have below average sized penises in the real world because that’s how averages work.) Would you read one if there were? Or are massive penises a non-negotiable part of erotic fiction. Are we all monsters?