One Penile Implant Please Squire

He was hairy; he had a decent sized frame, and a bit of a beer gut. He could belch, he could swear, he could fart. He was considered a bit of a lout by the lads, and he could barney with the best of them. He could stay up all night drinking VB, whiskey and port, and he drove a V8 Falcon ute. He listened to AC/DC and he followed his footy. He had smelly armpits and he wore ripped blue singlets, but by crikeys, by crikeys, he had a small penis. Yes despite all his positives the fact remained that Johnno possessed a very small cock.

It was no worries until he had to go to the pisser. You could only piss in a cubicle for so long. Soon blokes would get suspicious. You couldn't pretend you were having a crap every time there was someone at the trough. Sooner or later you had to face the music. And like most blokes with small cocks, Johnno suffered from stage fright. ‘C’mon you bastard,' Johnno would think, 'piss, fuck ya, piss!' Of course his dick would shrivel up further, and his stomach would begin to cramp, and if he was lucky two or three drops would spurt out of his penis, and that was it. He'd give it a shake, fart, and then walk out without washing his hands, and sit back in his stool still busting for a piss.

And the blokes pissing next to him were no help at all. Half the time, whilst Johnno was desperately trying to coax his cock to piss, some smart arse who was pissing like a fire hose, out of something that would look more at home on a horse, would look at him and start a conversation. You bloody smart arse bastard. And those old pricks. They'd put both of their hands on the wall in front of them, let their ten inch, wrinkly old fellas hang down, and piss like a fucking hydrant. They'd fire it straight into the bottom of the trough so it sounded like a downpour on a tin roof, and they'd fart and groan and move their hips round in circles. Fuckin smart arse cunts. 'At least I can still get it up,' thought Johnno.

If there was one thing that Johnno had learnt from his thirty two years of living it was that there was no justice in this world. Bastards would get all the money. Arseholes would get all the chicks. And dickheads would get the ten inch schlongs. Meanwhile good old Johnno would be stuck with no money, no chick, and a shrivelled up one inch penis. You fucking bastard.

It was time to turn the tables. Johnno had heard somewhere, possibly in the public bar half an hour before closing, that it was now possible, at a reasonable price, to get a penile implant. They'd chop off one of your arse cheeks and shove it under your foreskin. Something like that, anyway. By Joves, Governor that would show the pricks. He'd flop out his monster at the trough and deliberately turn to whoever was next to him and start a conversation, and watch with delight as the poor bloke looked down slyly at his gigantic member. 'Gees I hate this cold weather,' Johnno pictured himself saying, 'It makes my penis really shrivel up.' Ha! You bloody beauty.

As for the chicks, well Johnno hadn't really been with any lately (since 1987), but just wait til word spread about his massive member. 'Look out ladies. If you line up in an orderly fashion I'm sure everyone will get a go.' Oh yeah, fucking ace work, son. And Johnno's dream about becoming a porn star would finally come true. Juggernaut Johnno the gigolo and his gigantic gadget. You bloody beauty.

So he got it done. He pooled his resources together and managed to scrape up the two thousand four hundred and twenty dollars required to get the operation. He couldn't afford the twelve month warranty, but what the heck, they were professionals right? They weren't going to stuff up a simple matter of cut and paste, were they?

A month later, when the pain had died down enough for him to go to the pub again, Johnno walked into the men’s toilet of the public bar. He went straight to the trough, stood between two blokes, and flopped out his enormous cock. 'Oh Christ said the bloke next to him, 'what happened to your dick? It's shocking!' Johnno looked down at his scarred, hairy, butchered piece of meat, self-consciously, and tried to piss. He stood there for an eternity, with a cramped stomach, waiting for a start, but nothing came. Finally three little drops spurted out. He gave it a shake, farted, and walked out without washing his hands. You fucking bastard.