Don’t kid yourself, ladies and fellas, into presuming that size doesn’t matter because I’m here to tell you that it fucking does. Especially when we’re talking about men’s penises here, yes, it does fucking matter, godmmit!
I am a hotwife, and I’m writing this article to lay my two cents into this subject. I’ve been involved in this lifestyle for close to a decade now. If you must know, yes, I am happily married, thank you very much. Yes, I do have wonderful kids. I’ve got three kids, two from my husband, and a third came from my Black Master/lover. Yes, I have been black-bred, and I do support it as something that more white women like myself should commit to trying. Your life is bound to change astronomically once you do.
My Black Master's name is Ray. He's a handsome gentleman, very charismatic, suave, and capable. When I say capable, I mean he's got a terrific cock, and he knows how to put it to good use whenever he's with me. His cock is big, bigger than my poor husband's, so size does truly matter.
But size isn't everything that matters.
I've had lovers before whose cocks were equally huge. The problem was that that was all they had—a huge cock and nothing more—no stamina to sustain their girth in bed. And most of them haven't any tactic or fun when it comes to pleasing a woman. Sex with them was kinda like a quickie. A WHAM-BAM-THANK YOU, MA’AM type of sex; I'd barely last twenty minutes with them. One of them did have a good tongue when it came to eating my pussy. Too bad that was all the talent he had. If only he could have switched his tongue work to his dick, then we would have had something.
As it turns out, I had to end my relationship with these men. It put me in a sad state for a while because I assumed that I was the one at fault. I feared that maybe those were the sort of lovers I was destined to meet. It's like having all your erotic hopes dashed when you find that nothing is what you wished it would be.
Weeks went by, and it was my husband who encouraged me to keep searching for the right type of man for me. It took a long while, but I finally found what I wanted when I hooked up with Ray.
Let me be clear here, Ray isn't your athletic-looking stud. He's got some extra weight on him, but what he lacks in muscle, he makes up in how well to take care of me in bed. His cock isn't as humongous as my former lovers were, but it's big enough, and as I said before, IT GETS THE JOB DONE!
I've seen hundreds of social media posts, likely made by cuck husbands, all seeking the 'Big Ones' for their wives. Always on the lookout for an athletic brother with a 12-inch cannon in his pants and nothing more. Almost like they assume every Black man out there is a certified porn star. They probably won't care if he's a meathead, as long as he's got a swinging dick attached to a set of dangling balls that's gonna stretch the wife's pussy and tight arsehole. I'd say that these men have watched way too much interracial porn for their own good.
They can't be farther from the truth.
I'm not disputing that brothers don't have huge dicks, just as I'm not claiming that Black men don't have confident swag that arouses white bitches like me just from thinking about them. But reality and fiction are two different things. As much as white women crave Black men with massive dicks, they also want a brother who can seduce their hearts and stimulate their minds in ways their husbands are incapable of doing.
The saying goes that if white women want love-making, they can get that anytime from their husbands. What they want is hot fucking sex. Except fucking happens in two places: down south between our legs, and up in our brain. A white slut—like any other horny slut that's out there—knows first-hand when she meets up with someone she wants to take to bed. A Black man's swag is the aphrodisiac that makes us swoon. It is almost on par with the image we have in our heads of imagining how big his cock would be when it gets hard, followed by the feel of it between our legs.
No woman can resist the temptation of imagining how big and thick a Black bull's cock ought to be. But it doesn't compare to the throb of his cock pounding us. That forfeits whatever disappointment we might have if his cock is a few inches short.
However, that ain't enough to make us quit from wanting the 'Big Ones', mind you. Believe me, I'm still in the market for wanting a huge cock super-sizing my pussy all night. I haven't given up on that at all. But the competition out there is fierce and hung Black studs don't usually advertise themselves online. Don't go believing every photo you see on social media. It's easy making conversation with a hung stud, but when it comes to meeting face-to-face, you'd best steel yourself for some disappointment.
Even white men, too, are getting in on the act. I see plenty of gay white boys becoming more brazen with their attraction towards Black Cock. God bless them; they deserve the same type of fun us women are having. The same goes with bisexual cucks who crave wanting their mouths stretched by a monster Black Cock. Nothing makes wife-sharing better than when the hubby worships a Black god beside his wife.
My husband does the same with Ray. He loves choking on his cock, and loves it when Ray cums down both our throats. That's what being a Black-Owned couple is about.
In summary: yes, size does fucking matter. Maybe not a whole lot, but it's a none plus in the back of most women's mind. You cannot take it away, or else no wife would dare make a cuck of her husband. But it's not the sole determining factor in the equation. As much as it does matter, having a huge tool is secondary to knowing how to use it in a woman. As much as I want a brother with a thick pipe that can hit my cervix, I also want one who can strike my orgasm fountain again and again.