My husband has a small penis. There, I've said it. We have an active sex life, and he is really good with his hands, so he thinks that as long as he's giving me orgasms his size doesn't matter — but it's starting to. For me, orgasms aren't everything. Sometimes it's difficult to feel him, and I like a sensation of fullness. I don't know how to tell him this for fear of crushing him.
For the love of God, don't tell him! No, no, no, there's no reason to bring that up.
We're gonna work this out, but you have to promise not to criticize your husband's meager member. I mean ever. If you think the thing works poorly now, imagine what it would do if the words "difficult to feel you" were to ever tumble carelessly from your mouth.
I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that if you're comfortable talking orgasms and, er, fullness with a stranger and thousands of readers, you're no staunch traditionalist, so... Have you considered trying toys in the boudoir? Tell your fella you're fantasizing about spicing things up, and ask him to join you in purchasing some pleasure-prompting playthings. Choose a mix of girthy gadgets for yourself and glovey gizmos for him, too (hey, you have to assume it's difficult for him to feel you, too). Add in some feathered, flavored, or fur-lined fun to throw him off the "you have a small penis" scent.
Fullness you can buy. But a man that you love, who is manually dexterous and makes a regular point of pleasuring you? That's no small thing.
My brother moved across the country 30 years ago and, through some luck and a lowering of ethical standards, ended up as a multi-millionaire. Separately, my mother had been abusive to me and my family over the years, and it got so bad that I couldn't bring myself to see her anymore. So she finally moved to live near my brother, and now claims to be broke. She refused to co-sign for my daughter's college loan for one of the most expensive schools in the country, and sent her a high-school graduation gift almost a year late because she supposedly didn't have any money. My wife and I are barely scraping by. We have never experienced so much stress in our lives working endless hours to pay for my daughter's school. I received an email from my brother telling me my mother broke her hip because a guy ran into her with his car. I replied that maybe she should sue him to get some money since she was too broke to send a card to my daughter. My brother said he and his wife would like to visit my wife and I. I didn't respond and don't plan on seeing any of them ever again in my life, and do not plan to attend my mother's funeral. What do you think?
What do I think? I think you're an angry, confused dude who isn't qualified to be be doling out "ethical" and "abusive" labels from on high.
Few would fault you for ejecting an abusive mother from your life. But you've also lost the right to expect anything from her in return (and why would you want it?).
Working hard to send your daughter to a pricey school doesn't make you a martyr. In fact, it makes you exactly like your brother: a guy who made a financial choice that others in his family feel no obligation to support.
Re-read your response to your mother's injury and see if it doesn't strike you as astoundingly petty. Since living far away from your family and plotting never to see them again doesn't seem to be making you any less resentful, try a different tack. Do you know what feels better than lugging around an ugly grudge for your family's failings? Being the person you wish they were.
Earn your income with integrity. Shake the sofa cushions for loose change to buy your mother a get-well card — and send it before the year is up. Then let your brother come visit and see if you can connect over your common history, rather than your disparate bank accounts.
When you see your family as dollar signs, you're all the poorer for it.