Size.

To answer the perennial Truth or Dare question: size matters tremendously if you're a double hand amputee. Otherwise, eh. All things being equal I'll take bigger over smaller, it feels a little nicer and it makes more positions work. But it's hardly a make or break. The vast majority of my sexy time is spent on things besides intercourse anyway. And a smaller cock sure will get further into me. (Well, proportionally further.)

Kevin's the only one I ever actually got a ruler out on, and good God we nearly needed a yardstick: eight and a half inches. I couldn't really take the whole thing, it would hit my cervix in any position, but as long as he could hold back that last half inch, Christ it felt so good.

Alan's not in that league but decently endowed; six and a half inches, seven? Big enough to have some nice heft to it, not quite porn-grade. He's on the extreme "shower" end of the grower-vs.-shower spectrum; it's that big when it's soft too. I always enjoy that when we're hanging around naked. Gives me something pleasant to look at.

Benny is below average. Maybe it looks like less because he's such a big guy, but I'd eyeball it at about five inches. He's the only guy I can truly deep throat right down to the balls (then again, he also pushes me harder...) and still thick enough to make me squirm when he fucks me. I'm not complaining, just... noticing.

The funny part is their self-perceptions. Alan is always a little self-deprecating about it, telling me he's not that big, you know, I shouldn't be saying "Give me that big cock" because it's nothing special, really. Benny is absolutely insistent that he is going to slam me with his enormous cock and that I will have to take the whole thing.

Somehow I manage.