She Measured It With a Ruler… Then With Her Throat

I’d always known I was bigger than average—locker-room glances and a couple of surprised exes had confirmed that—but I never made a big deal out of it. At 28, I was just a regular software engineer, living in a quiet apartment in Seattle, swiping on dating apps for fun. That’s how I met her.

She was 25, a graphic designer with short platinum-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and this playful energy that came through even in texts. We matched on a Thursday, chatted nonstop, and by Saturday, we were grabbing drinks at a low-key bar near my place. She was even hotter in person, petite, maybe 5'3", curvy in all the right places, wearing a tight black top and jeans that hugged her ass perfectly. We laughed easily, flirted hard, and three drinks in, she leaned across the table and whispered, “So the rumors on your profile pics aren’t Photoshopped, right?”

I laughed. “What rumors?”

She bit her lip. “That bulge in your gym shorts pic. Either you stuff your pants, or you’re packing something serious.”

I shrugged, playing it cool. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Her eyes lit up. “Challenge accepted.”

We didn’t even finish our drinks. Twenty minutes later, we were back at my apartment, kissing hungrily in the hallway before the door fully closed. She pushed me against the wall, hands roaming down my chest to my belt.

“Slow down,” I teased, grabbing her wrists gently. “We’ve got all night.”

“No,” she said breathlessly, “I need to see it now.”

She dropped to her knees right there in the entryway, unbuckling me with eager fingers. My jeans slid down, boxers following, and my cock sprang free, already half-hard from the make-out session. Even soft, I hung heavy, but as the cool air hit me and her eyes widened, I thickened fast.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, staring. “That’s… that’s not normal.”

I chuckled. “Told you.”

She looked up at me, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Wait here. Don’t move.”

She jumped up, grabbed her purse from the counter where she’d dropped it, and rummaged inside. Out came a small plastic ruler, six inches, the kind you get in school supply kits.

I raised an eyebrow. “You carry a ruler in your purse?”

“Designer thing,” she said innocently. “For scale references. But tonight? It’s for this.”

She knelt again, wrapping one small hand around my shaft. I was fully hard now, veins pulsing, head swollen and glistening with a bead of precum. She placed the ruler along the top, pressing the zero end against my pelvis.

“One… two… three…” she counted slowly, eyes wide. “Four… five… six… seven… holy fuck, seven and a half. And thick—Jesus, my fingers don’t even touch.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’d measured once out of curiosity: 7.5 inches long, nearly 6 inches around. She looked like she’d won the lottery.

“You proud of that monster?” she asked, stroking slowly.

“Proud enough,” I said, voice low.

“Good. Because I’m about to worship it.”

She leaned in, tongue flicking out to taste the precum at the tip. I groaned as she swirled around the head, then opened wide and took me in—slowly, deliberately. Her lips stretched around my girth, eyes watering slightly as she pushed forward.

“Fuck, you’re big,” she mumbled around me, pulling back with a gasp. “I don’t know if I can take it all.”

“But you’re gonna try,” I said, threading my fingers through her short hair.

She nodded eagerly and went back down, deeper this time. I felt the head hit the back of her throat, and she gagged softly, but didn’t stop. Saliva built up fast—her mouth was small, and I filled it completely. She bobbed slowly, cheeks hollowed, one hand stroking what she couldn’t swallow.

“Look at me,” I commanded.

She glanced up, blue eyes locked on mine, mascara already smudging from the effort. The sight nearly undid me, beautiful girl on her knees, struggling with my size and loving every second.

After a few minutes she pulled off, gasping, strings of spit connecting her lips to my cock.

Before I could respond, she dove back down, deeper than before. I felt her throat open, relax, then tighten around the head as she forced another inch in. She held there, nose inches from my pelvis, eyes squeezed shut, throat convulsing around me.

“Good girl,” I groaned. “That’s six inches down your throat already.”

She pulled back slowly, coughing, then grinned. “One more try. I want it all.”

This time she was determined, hands on my thighs for leverage, she sank down inch by inch until her nose pressed against me. Her throat bulged slightly, and she held it, humming so the vibrations shot through me.

“Fuck, Lena… that’s it.”

She held for ten seconds, then slid off with a wet pop, gasping and laughing. 

I pulled her up, kissing her hard, tasting myself on her tongue. “Bedroom. Now.”

We stumbled down the hall, stripping as we went. By the time we hit the bed, she was naked, perky C-cup tits, pierced nipples, shaved pussy already glistening. I pushed her onto her back, spreading her legs.

“Gonna return the favor,” I said, diving between her thighs.

She was soaked. I licked slow circles around her clit, sliding two fingers inside her tight heat. She moaned loudly, hips bucking.

“Jake… oh god… I need that big dick inside me.”

I teased her entrance with the head, coating myself in her wetness. “You sure you can take it?”

“Fuck me,” she begged. “Stretch me.”

I pushed in slowly, watching her face contort in pleasure and a little pain as I filled her. She was incredibly tight, walls gripping me like a vice.

“So fucking big,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

I bottomed out, holding still so she could adjust. Then I started moving, slow, deep thrusts that made her gasp each time I hit her cervix.

“Harder,” she demanded, nails raking my back. “Ruin me with it.”

I picked up speed, pounding into her, the bed creaking under us. Her tits bounced with every thrust, and she reached down to rub her clit frantically.

“I’m gonna finish,” she cried. “Don’t stop—fuck, your huge cock is gonna make me—”

She shattered around me, pussy clenching hard, squirting a little as she screamed my name. I kept going, chasing my own release.

“Where do you want it?” I growled.

“On my face,” she panted. “Cover me with it.”

I pulled out and straddled her chest. She opened her mouth wide, tongue out, as I stroked fast. Two pumps later, I exploded, thick ropes across her cheeks, lips, tongue, and chin. She moaned, licking up what she could.

“God, even your loads are huge,” she laughed breathlessly.

We collapsed together, sweaty and spent. She curled against me, tracing lazy circles on my chest.

“So,” she said after a minute, “next date, I’m bringing a tape measure. For science.”

I laughed and kissed her forehead. “

That night was just the beginning. Lena became obsessed with my size, in the best way. 

We fucked everywhere: her place, my car, even a risky quickie in a park bathroom where she dropped to her knees again just to “measure” with her throat one more time. She never quite got tired of the shock on her face when she saw it, or the challenge of taking every inch. And honestly? I never got tired of watching her try.