Alright, so here’s the dealio.
I have a large Italian family with many cousins, uncles, aunts, nephews, et cetera. Every once in awhile we’ll all gather up to celebrate the anniversary of our great grandparents’ wedding, a special occasion marking the creation of our family. They’re long gone now, but it’s the memory that counts, and we celebrate by cooking a feast for the ages, rivaling thanksgiving dinner.
Now upon the eve of this anniversary all “da boys” (as us men in the family affectionately call ourselves) gather up and go to a famous local bar in downtown Boston. They only accept cash, very “old school” feel to the place, but it makes for some great stories. Usually the place is a blast, with all sorts of banter and drunken shenanigans occurring, but not last night...
Now before I divulge the details, I ought to give some background as to how I fit into this family. Where my father and I are well integrated into the family, my mother is quite the outsider. She comes from wealthier, southern origins, around the mid-Atlantic part of the country. Because of this, she’s always viewed the family as “working class”, with her posh accent sticking out like a sore thumb at gatherings of Bostonians. By extension, I’ve always felt I had to prove to my family that I can “hang” with them so to speak, and in a way I worry that they see my mom as the woman who pulled my dad away from their tight knit circle.
Now let’s cut back to last night at the bar. Laughs, drinks, and stories all around the bar as we enjoy ourselves. My cousin Vinny invites me and some of the younger guys to play truth or drink. At this point I’m already quite drunk, but accept for the fun of it. A few questions in and Vinny asks me “how big is your dick? I know you’re packing a huge one Anon, right?”
Of course my other cousins all groan with embarrassment, but I foolishly answer instantly, unaware of the ramifications of my response.
“4.5 inches” I say too confidently, and suddenly all eyes are on me.
“Drink anon, I know you’re bullshitting me man!” says Vinny, with a twinge of nervous angst in his voice.
“I’m serious Vin, that’s all I got, haha”
Dead silence. I gaze across the bar to see my entire family looking in shock and awe at my response. Vinny attempts to get everyone focused back on the game, and everyone resumes at a quieter tempo, but I knew that I had just majorly fucked up.
After leaving the bar, my uncle Paul pulls me aside, puts both hands on my shoulder and says “Kid, please tell me you’re just fucking around about your cock size”
“No paul, Jesus what the fuck is your problem?” I say indignantly
“Anon, don’t you know everyone in this family is packing fat schlong? For Christ sakes I’m on the smaller side and still clock out around 7 inches.”
“So what? Why the hell does penis size matter to you so much?” I’m starting to get worried at this point, I’ve never seen Paul look at me with such intensity.
“Matter to me? It’s matters to the whole damn family! Cock size is more than a number, it quantifies your entire personality. You can’t call yourself a member of this family if your walking around with a fucking baby carrot between your legs”
Paul went on explaining the history of this family, and how the men found success through leveraging their superior cocks, both literally and figuratively. According to him, my dad was somewhat of a legend, with a massive 10 inch meat cannon. Apparently during a final 200 meter dash in highschool, my father won by enlarging his penis so much and preformed a pelvic to win the race. I always felt like I never lived up to my father’s athletic record, but now I know that I come short in more ways than one.
So how could my dad’s cock be so big, and mine be so small? I had to investigate.
It turns that penis endowment correlates with genes on both the X and Y chromosomes, meaning that both my mother and father’s genetics are responsible. My father’s side obviously is known for their legendary sausages, so I knew I had to speak with my mother.
She was incredibly reluctant to describe her male family members’ genitalia to me for some reason... odd. I knew I had to investigate further, so I called some of my cousins and uncles from that side. Turns out, the family has relatively average penis sizes, but all larger than mine. Combined they averaged about 6 inches.
Here’s what makes no sense, if my dad’s side has an average of 8 inches, and my mom’s side has an average of 6 inches, why don’t I fall within that range? I suspected my mother’s hesitancy to speak on the matter indicated a darker secret, so I went digging.
My mom was friends with a man she knew from law school named Brian, and I always suspected she might have had a thing for him. I reach out to talk, and he gladly accepts.
Over the phone, I ask him “So how big is your cock?”
“My cock? Ahh, unfortunately I was born with a rather small 3 inch cock, but it gets the job done. It’s about average in my family”
Bingo, what lies in between 3 and 6? 4.5. Brian was my father. But before I had a chance to ask him, the phone line disconnected.
My father stands across from me, holding the phone cord in his hand. He had been on the other line, and must have figured it out.
“I always knew...” he said with a solemn look in his eye. He sulked away and retreated to his room, feeling unworthy to face the rest of the family.
I realize now that I needed to at least make amends with my cousins, they might not be able to respect my cock on size, but maybe I could demonstrate the skill and speed of my cock.
The dinner party was about to start, my mother and father had clearly been arguing and didn’t show up. Nobody bothered to look at me, and when they did catch my eyes I only saw disdain.
I realized now was the chance, and stood up on the table.
“I challenge anybody who’s man enough to a sword fight!” I declared, whipping my smaller cock out into the air for everyone to see.
At first I was met with silence, but then Vinny steps up, with rage in his eyes...
“Tough talk for a fella with a small cock”
He joined me on the table, summoning is terrifying 9 inch meat penetrator. I quickly assumed a guard position, I was 5 inches short from a fair fight, so I had to play defensively.
He charged with his penis in hand, swinging wildly, but clearly underestimating my maneuverability. I dodged and landed 3 quick jabs with the tip of my peen on his shaft. He reposted quickly, but I chambered his advanced and managed to strike at the balls. Vinny was down, but soon the rest of the family whipped out their cocks and prepared to engage in an all out melee.
The smell of musty dicks filled the air as men took their sides on the battlefield. Some came to defend me, admiring my valor in single combat with Vinny, while others came to avenge him. Soon a frontline emerged, reminiscent of the pike-and-shot warfare of the early modern period. Men on the front pushed and pulled with their cocks to make ground, while occasionally allowing for volleys of cum to fly across the room as artillery.
The battle was intense, casualties began to stack up, and it looked like my side was going to collapse.
Then my father came downstairs, 10 inch cock in hand.
“You may not be my son, anon, but you’ll always be my boy”
He and my allies charged, rallying our fallen comrades. I’d never seen a man cockfight like my father before. He used his massive schlong like a zweihander, cutting down two, three cocks at once.
Soon the battle ended, with Vinny’s allies surrendering in defeat. The room was covered in ball sweat and cum, dripping from the walls and ceiling.
I don’t know where I stand with the family currently. Many have learned to accept me, but I’m sure it will take years before the rest consider it. Who knows how many more wars this family will fight before peace is had... and it’s all my fault.
TL;DR: I revealed my cock length to my family, which escalated into a massive war.
A month ago, my wife gave birth to a black baby girl. We're both white, so she was forced to admit that the child was a result of a one night stand last year.
I've started divorce proceedings, although we're still living together for now. Between our two boys(aged 2 and 4, I've had paternity tests for them and they came back positive), her infant daughter and her having lost her job due to COVID, living together as amicably as possible until the divorce is settled is an unfortunate necessity.
Naturally I have no ill will towards the baby, and I've been disgusted by some of the comments I've heard from family members, friends, coworkers and others, all who seem to be fixated on the racial angle of this. As if the most salient part of this isn't that my wife cheated, but that she cheated with a BLACK man and that the baby is BLACK.
What really worries me is that my two sons might pick up on these narratives. They're too young to really understand what's happening now, but I'm worried that as they grow to understand the situation that they might grow to resent their half-sister for "breaking up their parents marriage". And worse that their resentment might express itself in a racist fashion, under the influence of the aforementioned racist narratives.
Any thoughts on how I should try to influence my son's away from that perspective? It probably doesn't help that we live in a suburb with very few black people and their half-sister is really the only black person my children know.
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