Girlfriends

Another line of questioning my fans like to go down is whether or not I have a bunch of Size Queen friends who I  like to get together with and talk about dicks with.

The answer here is "No".  It makes me sad.  I wish I had some great legion of sex-in-the-city style stories of my girlfriends and I sipping schlongtails while we discuss the finer points of cock.  Or vice-versa.

It isn't to say that I have zero female Size Queens that I keep in my life, but all of them were met online after I began to write and post my pornesque stories. 

The thing is, female Size Queens are rare.  Very rare.  We're taught from a young age that the most basic sexual thoughts are vulgar.  That our pussies are this dirty wrong evil place.  That men are gross and ESPECIALLY their penises.

It's difficult to get away from.

Somehow I did.  I haven't entirely figured out how yet, but  I do know that when I was a young and early bloomer, I was very quickly noticed and judged for the size of my chest.  As a result, when I grew into greater sexual maturity, it was a game I began to flip back onto would-be suitors.  I wasn't really a Size Queen at this point though, for me it was simply a way to get at guys, maybe make them feel a little bit how I felt.  Of course penises aren't as public as breasts, so I was always guessing rather than working with the good information they had.

But if I liked the guy, I assumed and spoke as if he was packing a whopper.  Guys that creeped me out were told very quickly that I didn't date the poorly endowed.

Years later, when I had my more proper Size Queen awakening (the years I saw my first monster, and then later dated one for a long time) it stopped being a joke to me.  Now it was less about putting men in one box or another, and more about me getting what I wanted.  I was shocked by the number of men who found this attractive, and even more shocked at the way guys will line up to show you their dicks no matter what the size.

It was during this period that I grew apart from my female friends.  We couldn't really talk about relationships in a way that didn't either A: Bore the crap out of me or B: gross them out.

Sure women talk.  Sure we'll make mention of our lovers' equipment.  Sure we'll discuss sex and what we like.  But there is a level of detail, the kind of detail you see in my stories or other blog posts, that few other women are really interested in.  I can't blame them for that.

So thanks to my many online Sister Size Queens, and of course, as usual, you boys who make all of this worthwhile.