The Tale of Tiny Tom

All persons depicted in this story were 18 years or older at the time of the events.

* * *

I first saw her in 12th grade. I was 18, new to town, and didn't know anyone. It was the first day of school, and I needed to catch my bus for the first time.

My parents told me which intersection and gave me a bus number. When I got there, there was a group of teens, so I joined them. After a while, a second group of teens formed across the street. Great, I thought. My first day and I'm already confused about where to go.

Sure enough, a bus arrived and picked up everyone on my corner except me. I stood there, desperate to not look ridiculous, wondering if the other group were from my school. I was too nervous to walk over, too nervous to ask. Too nervous to make a bad first impression. Yet making one anyway by standing there all by myself.

Then I saw her. She was 5'4. Petite. A smile that would have stopped me in my tracks if I wasn't already standing still. Shoulder-length brown hair, tied up in a pony tail.

In short, she was the textbook definition of the girl next door. Absolutely stunning, yet not trying to show off in any way. She wore simple jeans and a hoodie. She carried her backpack on both shoulders. She looked like she'd never experience a day of doubt or low confidence in her life.

I loved her instantly.

"Hi, are you waiting for the bus to go to St. Jude's?"

I could see a hint of the shape of her small breasts under her sweater. They looked perfect.

"Yes," I said. "It's my first day."

She smiled. I tried to smile back, but only managed an awkward grimace.

"I figured! I'm Julia," she said with her hand extended.

"I'm Tommy." I shook her hand lightly, hoping she wouldn't notice how sweaty my palms were.

"Our bus should be here soon. It stops over there."

Julia walked me over to the other side and introduced me to the others. I couldn't tell you any of their names, or how many there were, or if any of the girls were pretty. In fact, I can't remember anything else from that day other than Julia herself.

It was probably a long, lonely, and stressful day.

Much to my surprise and delight, we struck up a friendship.

Every day that I got to ride with Julia to school was a good day. Any day she didn't make the bus was a bad day.

I should mention at this point that Julia was the first girl I fell in love with. Sure, I'd liked other girls before. But nothing like this. To my teen brain, the gods had conspired to bring us together that day.

At the end of that first day, I walked off the bus and discovered Julia and I were walking the same way. In fact, she seemed to be walking me home.

It turned out that she lived across the street. She was my actual girl next door. Can you blame my hormone-addled mind for thinking this was fate?

I would later learn just how wrong I was.

* * *

My first clue should have been the fact that she already had a boyfriend. His name was Luke. I hated Luke. I hated him before I knew he was Julia's man. He was just that cocky kind of guy with an imminently punchable face. (You know the type.)

It took me weeks to figure out that she was already spoken for. We were walking and riding to and from school, and this Luke hadn't even come up in conversation for weeks. How important could he be?

Julia didn't strike me as someone who was interested in the dumbest piece of meat you could find, yet here we were. My delightful, adorable, and brilliant girl-next-door was dating a beautiful moron.

Still, it was just a young romance. Those never last, so I figured I had a good chance.

We quickly became the very best of friends. We talked about everything. We talked late into the night on the phone. Sometimes we would sit by our front windows while talking on the phone, so that we could see each other across the street.

There weren't enough hours in the day for her to also be talking to Luke even half as much as she was talking to me. I figured it was only a matter of time before they broke up and she would see that I was as perfect for her as she was for me.

* * *

One Friday night, Jules (as I'd come to call her) was having some people over for a small party. When I got there, I walked in on a conversation that I can still remember to this day.

Jules was talking to our other neighbour, Liette. Liette was cute. I probably would have found her hot if I wasn't so head-over-heels for Julia.

"You can do that?," Jules asked her.

I remember the smile on Liette's face. It was pride.

"I can take the whole thing."

"You don't gag?"

"Nope."

"Is he small or something?"

Liette burst out laughing.

"Hardly. Even with two fists, his cock sticks out enough to add a third hand to it too."

Jules jaw dropped. "I need to see it."

Liette laughed some more as she pulled out her phone. She showed Jules something on her screen.

"Fuck," Jules said with a grin. "You're such a bitch! He's huge. And girthy. Oh my god. I hate you."

They didn't seem to have noticed I'd walked in yet, so I coughed a bit.

"Uh, hey guys," I said. "How's it going?"

Julia looked at me with her eyes popped open wide. "Oh, hey Thomas! You made it!"

She was the only person who ever called me Thomas. The only person I allowed to call me that. I don't know why, but I got chills every time she would.

"What's happening?"

"Liette was just showing me something cool," Jules said.

Liette looked over at me. "Hey Tommy." I waved back.

I sat down next to Jules on the couch. She was wearing these cute booty shorts and a tank top, and somehow still looked perfectly innocent.

Fucking Hell, I loved this girl.

Anyway, the rest of that night was uneventful, but I kept thinking about the conversation I walked in on. Three hands? Liette's boyfriend's dick was that big, and Jules liked it?

I certainly wasn't THAT big. But, at the time I figured dick size couldn't be all that important to someone like Jules. And besides, it's not like I was tiny, right? I just wasn't some horse-hung freak like Liette's dude.

Nothing to be worried about. Nope. Nothing at all.

* * *

A few months later, Jules and Luke broke up. I knew they would. This was my time to shine!

But I didn't want to be a creep and make any moves too soon. She deserved to have some time to process her feelings and start dating again whenever she felt ready.

Instead, I did what I always did: I was there for her. I listened. We talked for hours and hours.

A couple days later, my parents were out of town. I thought this would be the perfect time. I'd invite her and some other people over for a chill night, find the right time, and let her know how I felt. I figured I'd be totally non-threatening about it. More confessional, letting her know I had no expectations about her reciprocating the feelings. The last thing I wanted to so was risk our friendship.

That was the plan.

There were probably about 8 of us in the house that night. Liette came over with her man, who I didn't really know. But he was polite enough. We were all having a good time, having some drinks. I was building up my courage.

Then Jules plopped herself down on the couch and put her feet in Adam's lap.

Who's Adam? Great question. I was asking myself the same thing, in a way. Adam went to our school. I liked him well enough. Funny guy. Prone to pranks.

But Jules never talked about him. We talked every day and she'd never mentioned him once. And now she had her feet in his lap.

Still, innocent enough. I figured I still had a shot, but I needed a little more liquid courage. I went and grabbed another beer from the fridge, came back, and was blown away by what I saw.

Jules was playing footsie with his cock over his shorts.

And his cock was huge. I'd never noticed before, but the visible penis line on Adam was insane.

As in, half-way down to his knees while limp.

I sat down and just stared as she slowly rubbed her toes along the length of his shaft. I saw as she rolled her foot over the head of his cock, then traced the full length back. All while chatting away as if nothing was happening.

I was crushed. I'd missed my chance. They dated for about a year.

* * *

Around this time, I realized it may have been unwise of me to keep waiting for her to become available. It started to dawn on me that perhaps I was in the dreaded "friend zone". She didn't see me as a viable sexual being, I was just Thomas: her best friend. I'd never be Thomas: her boyfriend.

Even though I felt nothing for anyone but her, I started talking to other girls, trying to see who might be interested and interesting. But nothing clicked. It was Jules or nothing for me.

In the summer of 2003, Jules told me that her family was moving away. Her dad had just gotten a new job, and it started in a month. If I'd ever had a chance, I'd missed it.

I cried the day she moved. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Completely inconsolable. That is, until she called.

For that last year of school, we continued to talk on the phone every day. She was still my Jules. I was still her Thomas.

She started seeing some guys out there. As per usual, though, she didn't like to tell me about them. I started seeing some girls, although I didn't develop any feelings for any of them.

Life was manageable. As long as I could at least talk to Jules, life was OK. I'd do anything for her, and all I wanted in return was to be the person she talked to.

* * *

Due to being so incredibly shy, the first girl I ever openly expressed attraction to was someone I met online. Her name was Gennifer. This was not a romance. This was pure 19-year-old hormones.

We'd chat about sex online, then call each other and talk some more. She asked me if I was circumcised. I said I wasn't. She liked that. She asked me if I'd ever had a "snow job" before. I'd never had any kind of job. She explained that it's when you put snow or ice in your mouth before giving a man fellatio.

I wasn't in love. But I was excited to meet up with her in person.

She invited me out to a party with her and her friends. We all had fun. They were all hyper sexual. I didn't know how to make a move, so I didn't. Thankfully, Gen did.

She grabbed my hand while everyone was distracted and led me to another room, then laid down on a mattress and motioned for me to join her. I did, but didn't know what to do with my hands.

I laid down and faced the ceiling, unsure where to even look. She leaned over me and kissed me, and we started to make out. I'd like to think this part went well. I enjoyed it a lot, and she seemed to like it too.

Her hands started rubbing my chest. I rubbed her arms, her shoulders, her back. We continued to kiss. She grabbed my hand and pushed it to her left breast. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, so I simply squeezed it a little and massaged it. That seemed to go OK, too.

Finally, it happened. She slid her hand slowly down my chest. I realized I was about to have my first sexual experience. She slid her hand over my crotch and started to rub. I got hard very quickly. She continued to rub me over my pants.

And then, just as she seemed to find my tent and started to focus on it, she lost interest. She moved her hand away, then rolled away and sat up.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No, of course not," she said. "This was fun!"

This being my first experience, I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know that this was a big red flag that she absolutely was not having fun. And I certainly didn't know that the problem was with what she felt while groping me.

We went back to the party, hung out for another half hour or so, and called it a night.

I... never heard from her again.

* * *

It's 2003. I'm 19 years old. A virgin. And I've struck out several times. What was wrong with me?

I decided to depersonalize things a bit more. I clearly wasn't ready for a real woman. I didn't know what they wanted or what it was about me that wasn't doing it for them.

Back then, you could still search for random women to chat with on Yahoo, MSN, ICQ. Unlike today, striking up friendships with strangers was the normal thing to do.

I found a girl my age to chat with. Talking with her was exciting. She wasn't a "nice girl". She wasn't interested in my life or things that might have been important to me.

She wasn't even interested in my name. I never learned hers.

What she was was openly horny.

At that age and time, I somehow didn't know that women got horny. Never mind that I watched my dream girl fondle another man's cock with her feet. Never mind that I walked in on her talking about a man so well hung that it would take three hands to grab it. I still believed that women needed to be persuaded into finally feeling aroused.

My nameless webcam girl, though, was horny. One day, she turned her web cam on, went to take a shower, then walked back completely naked. I thought she must have forgotten that I was watching, but that was just her way of getting my attention.

She had it in full.

When she sat down, now in a towel, she had a big smile on her face and told me it was my turn. I wasn't going to say no.

I started by taking off my shirt, but she was only interested in seeing what I was packing. So I hurried the fuck up.

I stood before the camera, hooked my thumbs on either side of my underwear, and dropped my pants.

The only way to describe her reaction was stunned silence. Slowly, a smirk started to form.

"can you get it hard for me?," she typed.

I started to slowly jerk off, doing my best impression of sexy. I was still soft, so I grabbed the base of my cock with my thumb and index finger, squeezed, and pulled it forward. I did that a few times until I got hard enough to instead start at the tip and stroke down to the base.

She bit the corner of her lip, as if to hold back a reaction.

"is... this ok?" I asked.

"oh yeah," she said. "this is great. this is so hot."

Something about the way she said it didn't feel genuine. But: A beautiful naked woman was watching me jerk off!

I could have gone for hours, but Ms. Webcam announced that she had somewhere she needed to be.

About a week later, she appeared back online and wanted to chat. She was on camera, but said her audio wasn't working so we'd have to still type to each other. This was strange, because I could hear her just fine. And there was another girl in the room.

"K, this is the guy I was telling you about," I heard her say.

"The guy with the tiny dick?"

"Yea yea it's him, just stay out of the camera. I'll see if I can get him to show it again."

Tiny dick? What the fuck was she talking about? Sure, I'm no James Deen. But outside of porn, who is?

I decided to go along with it, believing that her friend would correct her that I really wasn't small at all.

"hey, I really liked seeing you naked the other day," she wrote. "you're super sexy."

"thank you, so are you." I was nervous and cautious and more than a little hurt, but I tried my best to act normal.

She looked off screen. "Seriously it's like a thimble." "I've got to see this. You have to get him to take it out."

I took this as an opportunity to challenge her.

"is someone else there?"

"no, why?"

"it looked like you were talking to someone off screen?"

I heard her friend laughing out loud.

"i was just talking to my cat lol"

"that makes sense," I wrote. "so, what's up?"

She smiled. She was super cute when she smiled.

"well, i'm hoping your dick is?"

"oh?"

I could hear her friend laughing. "You're so subtle!" "Don't make me laugh!"

"yea, can i see it again maybe?"

I thought about it for a moment. Did I really want to show her? I was already hard, so I knew my answer. I just didn't understand why I wanted to go through with it. She was being really mean.

And yet, I couldn't resist.

"sure, yea, of course. my lady asks, my lady gets."

"He's so fucking lame!" I heard her friend say. That should have been enough to stop me, to make me realize these women were not worth my time. But I couldn't resist. Call it morbid curiosity, or call it a desperate need for any kind of attention. Maybe both.

I stood up and yanked down my pants and boxers in one go.

Suddenly they were both on screen, holding each other laughing. They looked like they might fall over.

"Holy fuck! You weren't kidding!"

"I can't believe he showed it again!"

Any pretense was gone. Still, I stood there with my dick out, still hard, as these two beautiful young ladies laughed to the point of tears.

I decided to sit down and message them.

"Who's that? And why are you laughing at me?"

"Does he not know he has a micro dicklet?"

"He's clueless. He still thinks he's average!"

The friend looked right into the camera and flashed her pinky finger, then the camera shut off and they blocked me on chat.

I sat down, confused by what had just happened. Why did they think my dick was small? Why were they such assholes about it? And why did I just cum in my lap?

* * *

More importantly, what did this mean about me? Did I really have a small dick?

For the first time ever, I opened up Google and searched the words that forever changed my life: "average penis size".

I clicked link after link, but every site said the same thing: The average penis was roughly 6" long, and 5" round. Well, that seemed like a lot to me, but I'd never measured my own dick. And frankly, I didn't know how big an inch really was.

I dug around my school bag and found a ruler. That ruler instantly told me I was idiot, because it was a 6" ruler and was clearly much bigger than me.

I was still hard, despite everything that transpired, so I place the ruler under the base of my dick.

2.25"

What. The. Fuck. Two inches and a quarter? How did I not notice this before?

Well, I might as well figure out my girth while I'm at it, I thought. I took a strip of paper, wrapped it around my dick, and marked where the edge met. I unravelled the paper, and measured it.

3.1"

My dick was 3.1" round and 2.25" long. Wow.

* * *

Later that day, I was talking to Jules. Talking to her was the highlight of my day, even if she was seeing someone new and even if we lived 8 hours apart and might never see each other in person again.

Almost immediately, she knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Thomas?"

"Nothing, I'm ok. Why?"

"You're not yourself."

"Oh."

"Did something happen?"

"I dunno."

"You do know. You can talk to me about anything. I'd hope you'd know that by now."

"I don't think I can talk to you about this..."

Only two other times had I ever been nervous around Jules. The first was the day we met. The second time was I was trying (and failing) to muster up the nerve to tell her how I felt.

And now a third. As I tried to figure out how to tell my best friend in the whole world that I had a tiny penis and no woman could ever love me.

"That means this is something you can especially talk to me about. You know I'd never judge you Tommy."

Whenever Jules called me Tommy, I felt safe. I felt protected. It's the name most people used for me, but she reserved it for times of reassurance.

I knew then that I could talk to her.

"That's true. I do need to talk about it. But, it's kind of, sort of, absolutely, totally about a sex thing. Is that ok?"

I could feel her smiling through the phone.

"Of course, it's ok. What happened?"

I explained to her about how I'd been webcamming with this girl, and we saw each other naked, and I thought everything was ok, but then things went off the rails today.

"Well, at first she hopped on and was acting horny, as usual."

"Sure, ok. So far so good."

"But she wasn't alone. She said she was, but she wasn't. She thought her mic was off, and I could hear her talking to someone else."