Autumn Pt. 01 Ch. 01

"I think it's time to move on," their grandmother said.

Todd polished off his IPA. "Hey, Nat, I could use another beer."

"So get it yourself," she said.

"What if I promise you a bigger tip than Grandpa gave you?"

She rolled her eyes. "You haven't got a bigger tip."

"Okay, let's take a quick break," their grandmother said, pushing back her chair.

"Good timing," Todd muttered. "I was gonna lead off with the size of my dick."

Once everyone who needed to had refreshed their drinks, Todd offered his list. "I'm the king of doggy," he began. "I don't go down." Of course not. That was for guys who had to make up for deficiencies in other areas, right? "My favorite color is pink."

Dom snorted. "The third one."

"There is such a thing as trying too hard," their mother said, eyes sliding from one son to another. "Don't get me wrong," she said, in a sorry-not-sorry tone, as her gaze settled on Frank. "It's good to tend to your woman's needs, but some guys forget to enjoy themselves."

"What's wrong with putting her first?" Frank asked.

His mother looked at him as though he'd asked why people enjoyed orgasms.

Aunt Liz, however, was very busily staring into her glass of white wine, trying to hide the fact that her eyes kept straying across the table to where a certain nephew sat.

Natalie coughed "permafriendzone" into her fist.

Dom and Todd both laughed at that. Their grandfather would have as well, if he knew what the term "friend zone" meant. Frank wasn't about to explain it to him, though.

There were those who felt that it was intrinsically sexist, implying as it did that all interactions between men and women had to either result in successful conquest or rejection-by-a-different-name. Frank was at least halfway persuaded by that argument. To the extent that it referred to the practice of keeping a guy hanging around not because you actually valued him as a friend but because you enjoyed being desired or knowing that you'd have a backup plan if your boyfriend ever cheated on you, though, he saw some value to it. No one at Feministing or Jezebel would ever admit that some girls did that, but Frank knew some who'd openly admitted to it. Girls who'd described him as a friend.

Dom took a slow sip of his drink, doubtlessly aware that all eyes were on him. "I've never read anything by Shakespeare; I can squat three hundred and fifty pounds; and I once fucked a girl not two hours after getting a blowjob from her mother."

"How can you go through high school and never read Shakespeare?" Aunt Liz asked.

"Simple," Dom replied. "I never did any of the assigned reading."

Why did that, of all the things his brother had said, turn their cousin on? She was as much of a nerd as Frank was, if not of the same variety. Her walls were lined with books; there were as many pictures of them on Facebook as there were of her. Yet there was no denying the arousal in her emerald green eyes as she peered past Frank and Todd.

"Three-twenty-five?" their grandfather guessed.

"Not even," Dom admitted. "Maybe a cool three hundred, with sloppy form."

That only seemed to excite Brianna further. She might appreciate a great body, but not as much as the confidence it took for a guy to admit that he wasn't the king of the gym. That actually made sense to Frank, though he almost wished it didn't.

"My name is Joe," their grandfather said. "People started calling me 'Dick' when they realized I've got the biggest one in North America. I told them not to, but the name stuck."

Grandma Noreen rolled her eyes. "You've told two already, Richard."

"I knew I was bigger," Todd said.

"She means that's not how I got the nickname. If you'd like to see it—"

"Really?" Frank said. It took more guts than he'd realized he had, but he then asked his grandfather, "Aren't you supposed to be the mature one at this table?"

That earned him some sympathy from Uncle Bobby and Aunt Liz, but no one else. It seemed several people were hoping he'd actually whip it out.

Because it was just that kind of night, Nat cried, "Dick-measuring contest!"

"Oh, definitely," Brianna said. "Everybody, slap them on the table, now!"

"I think one at a time will do," their grandmother replied in a slow and patient tone, proving that she was the voice of reason. Or something.

With a snap of the woman's fingers, a ruler appeared.

"This is happening," Frank said in disbelief. "Why, exactly?"

"Because of every wet tee-shirt contest that's ever been held," Brianna replied. "Because of every website that allows guys to rate naked women using a five star system. Because—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Frank said, which was mostly true. He didn't see how any of that would change if he took his dick out, but he knew he'd only be wasting his breath by arguing. Might as well try and climb up a mountain during an avalanche.

"You have something to be worried about?" Nat asked him, eyebrow raised.

Frank refused to confirm her suspicion, offering only a derisive snort.

"I'll go first," Todd said. Without waiting for a reply, he launched into a little dance, shaking his hips and pumping his fists. After a few seconds, he licked a finger and twirled it around his nipple, which almost made Frank forget how opposed he was to the whole thing. Whatever else one might say about him, his brother knew how to lighten the mood.

He finished by flopping his dong out as dramatically as possible.

Laughter filled the air then died off quickly as everyone realized just how big he was. For all too many, amusement turned to lust. For Frank, it gave way to insecurity. There was no way he was as big as his little brother. That thing was the size of most girl's forearms.

"Ten-fucking-inches, you punk-ass bitches," Todd announced after taking his measure.

Their sister nodded approvingly. "That's not small."

"No, it's not," Frank muttered. According to most sources, the average guy's cock was around five-and-a-half inches long when fully erect. The standard deviation was pretty small, too; ninety-five percent of guys fell between four-and-a-half and a seven-and-a-half-inches.

In other words, ten was fucking huge.

Yet no one seemed any more impressed than Natalie was. Oh, they were hardly snickering at it, the way guys always feared. They should have been shocked, though.

Of course, with all the other things the wind had done to their bodies, no one could have expected him to come in at five-and-a-half inches. Or seven-and-a-half, for that matter.

Hadn't Frank noticed earlier that he was a lot bigger than usual? He doubted he was ten-fucking-inches long, but he couldn't really hold it against his sister that her eyes hadn't popped out of her skull, however much he might like to.

Dom went next. He didn't make a show of revealing himself, the way their younger brother had; he just lowered his pants calmly and exposed himself and his pierced scrotum. That drew a whistle from their grandmother and an eek from Aunt Liz. Brianna smiled, her green eyes glittering. Dom didn't even seem to notice, though. He measured himself slowly, in no hurry to escape their collective scrutiny, then announced that he was nine inches long in a tone that left some doubt as to whether he realized that meant Todd was bigger.

That was Dom for you—hand him a bronze medal and he'd offer his condolences to the guy with the gold. And then the reporters would stick their microphones in front of his face.

Brianna could have taken that as her cue to tease Dom about his own math skills. She was too busy mooning over him, though. Their cousin looked like a freaking cartoon character. It was a wonder little hearts weren't streaming out of her eyes instead of emerald light.

Uncle Bobby's hand shook a bit as he withdrew a fat cock from inside his pants. He too turned out to be nine inches long. For whatever it was worth, he was clearly thicker than either of his nephews. Yet he was visibly relieved once he'd tucked it back into his boxers and let the waistband snap against his pelvis.

"You next," Grandpa Dick told Frank. "We'll save the best for last."

Stalling wouldn't help anything. A dozen quips were ready to jump out of his brothers' mouths as it was. So with hands less steady than his uncle's had been, Frank lowered his boxers and pulled his cock out. "Looks like, um, eight-and-a-half," he said.

Was he thicker than either of his brothers? Sure. Maybe even thicker than their uncle. They weren't measuring girth, though. By the only metric that mattered, Frank was going to come in dead last. Maybe not by a lot, but he was. And he was also devastated.

"My turn," his grandfather said, grabbing the ruler. "Ten," he said shortly thereafter, with a smug grin. One that was at least partially justified. "And a quarter."

Todd probably could have quibbled about that quarter of an inch, but there'd be no point. It looked like their grandfather was as thick as Frank was. Even if he wasn't longer than Todd, someone would inevitably suggest that they use girth as a tiebreaker.

"We have a winner," Frank's mother said, beaming with pride.

She was actually proud of her father's cock. That might have made sense coming from Grandma Noreen, seeing as she was his wife—though his magnificent endowment had come from a fucking spell of transformation, so Frank wasn't sure even that would be warranted.

"Seems we do," Grandma Noreen said with a more neutral expression.

Natalie leaned over and whispered something to Brianna, who giggled. They caught Frank looking over at them then giggled some more.

The worst part was that he couldn't even blame them. Was he a good deal bigger than the average guy? Than he himself had been when he'd rolled out of bed that morning? Sure, but so were the others. His grandfather had nearly two inches on him.

His grandmother got up and walked around to the chair he'd plopped back down in. Her hands sank into his shoulders, working the tension out of his muscles like a baker kneading dough. Then she leaned down and whispered, "He looked nice and thick. Any woman who's been around the block a few times will say that's what matters most."

After an awkward pause, necessary to get his tongue working again, Frank said, "Thanks?"

He'd heard that before, of course. He'd even read about studies that supported the conclusion—more or less. They hardly indicated that length was irrelevant, though. And he knew from other studies that while five-and-a-half was average, women thought the mean was a good deal north of that, meaning that a guy didn't even need to be small for women to think he was. The same was true of height, and that distribution was much easier to observe, so it was only so surprising that women conflated what they were willing to settle for with the numeric average. If a relationship was failing, that almost certainly wasn't the reason, and guys probably did worry too much about it, but anyone who thought his partner would have liked another inch or two probably wasn't wrong.

Though, in truth, it wasn't the size of his manhood that had Frank sulking like a teenager. He might not have been as crazily well-hung as the others, but neither did he have a modest endowment. It didn't matter what sort of equipment he had in his windswept form, anyway; he was never going to use it. All the flirting and inappropriate looks were just a way of pushing the envelope. There was some genuine attraction in that room, sure, and it didn't just run in one direction, but that still didn't mean that any of them would go so far as to fuck a family member. What really had him feeling mopey was that his mother couldn't stop staring at his grandfather the way Frank wished she'd stare at him.

If she'd told him that he hadn't come in last, Frank would have cheered right up. His grandmother was plenty attractive and all, but there'd never been another woman quite like his mother. She was all that mattered. All that would ever matter.

"Should I not have said that?" his grandmother asked.

"No, no. It's fine. I just...," Frank began, before letting the sentence trail off. "Thanks," he repeated. It sounded more sincere the second time, as it should have.

She kissed the top of his head then did her best to tousle his short hair, the way an ordinary grandmother might cheer a little boy up after his team lost at little league.

Naturally, that was when the wind returned.