Peter was thirteen years old when he learned that he was a freak of nature. It all began when one of his four sisters walked in on him in the bathroom. He’d just stepped out of the shower and was standing in the middle of the room, both hands over his head, toweling his hair. She couldn’t have had a clearer view. The fifteen-year-old froze, then apologized and backed out of the room, her face red with embarrassment. He cursed himself for forgetting to lock the door but had forgotten about it by bedtime. The same could not be said for his sister, who’d been shocked by what she’d seen.
Peter’s father had died when his mother was pregnant with her fifth child, Peter’s youngest sister. The woman had never gotten over her firefighter husband, and had not dated or remarried, so Peter was the only boy in a household of females. Small for his age, he’d shied away from sports and other typical masculine activities. As a result, he had no idea just how unusual he was.
Peter was thrilled when his uncle Pete came for a visit the following weekend. His favorite relative lived on the other side of the country and visited only when he had business in the area It didn’t occur to him at the time, but his godfather had never before made the trip without at least two or three months planning.
Pete had arrived Friday night. Saturday morning he made a show of asking for a volunteer to help him with some errands. He’d looked to each of Peter’s sisters first, as if there was any question that his namesake would be his co-pilot. Each had shaken her head so he said “Well, I guess I’m stuck with young Peter. You sure you know your way around town?”
Peter grinned, quickly rinsed his dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then led the way out to the rental car in the driveway. This was one of the many reasons he liked his uncle: he always drove really nice cars. This time, it was a Mazda MX-5 convertible; red, or course, with all the bells and whistles. `Only the best for my uncle,’ he thought as he slid into the leather passenger seat.
In truth, Pete had grown up in town and didn’t need a guide. He’d always taken his responsibilities as his nephew’s only living male relation seriously. This, he reflected, was one such mission for which he was singularly qualified.
They drove around town, completing a series of unnecessary tasks. This didn’t seem unusual to Peter; He’d long known that one of his uncle’s purposes in visiting was to spend time with him. He loved it. Around noon Pete looked at his watch and suggested that they stop for lunch. He didn’t even wait for a response before skillfully swinging the tiny car into a space in the lot of a restaurant Peter had always wanted to visit: Hooters.
Wide-eyed, Peter followed his uncle to a booth at the back of the restaurant. Pete knew that a table near the kitchen was typically the least desirable in any restaurant, but thought it would be perfect for his nephew. Uncle Pete grinned as he gestured toward the bench seat facing into the restaurant, from which his nephew would have the best view. “Don’t worry, Peter. I told your mom I planned to bring you here. She’s okay with it.” He made a point of examining the menu, leaving his nephew free to look around.
The boy couldn’t help but stare at the servers as they came and went. He tried desperately to pull his eyes from their chests, but then noticed that the women, most of whom appeared to be eighteen- or nineteen-years-old, smiled back at him. None said “My eyes are up here, perv,” as one of his sister’s friends had done.
Peter started to realize that the girls didn’t have any particular look or “type.” Some had large breasts; some small. Some were tall; some short. Some, he noted with surprise, were almost flat-chested. Some were strikingly beautiful; some a bit plain. Some were even a bit overweight, though they were in the minority and still very pretty.
A particularly well-endowed woman brought them two glasses of water. She pulled out an order pad and stood there, as if unaware that she wore a tiny pair of red “booty shorts” and that her breasts were almost bursting out of her low-cut half-tee-shirt. Peter couldn’t help but stare, and stammered when she asked for his order.
Chuckling, his uncle ordered cheeseburgers with onion rings for both of them, a chocolate milkshake for Peter, and a beer for himself. He plucked the menu from the nonplussed boy’s hands and handed it to the server. She smiled but remained in place for a few more seconds, as if to give Peter another look at her assets before going to place their order.
Pete cleared his throat to gain the boy’s attention. “I love places like this. Everybody’s so comfortable about sex and sexuality. None of these girls ever make you feel bad for looking. It’s not like it’s our fault; it’s how we’re programmed.”
Peter listened intently to his uncle; he always did. He wondered, though, if there was some subtext he was missing. ‘What,’ he wondered, ‘did he mean about our being programmed to look.’
“Thanks for bringing me here, Uncle Pete; but… umm… why are we here?”
Pete didn’t miss a beat; He’d been prepared for this question, and had decided to jump right in. “Your mom and I figured it was time for me to have a talk with you.” He paused. “You know — about sex and your body and stuff like that.”
Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but said nothing. Not only was this topic embarrassing, but his half-hard penis was twisted painfully in his jeans and he didn’t feel he could adjust it without drawing attention. This had been a problem for him in school of late, as he needed to stand to complete the necessary maneuvers; something he could not do without drawing attention to his growing problem.
Pete was unsurprised by the boy’s discomfort, both emotional and physical. He had a special insight into the latter, which he planned to share. “I know, buddy. This is a tough thing to talk about, but we figured you’d rather it be me than your mother.” He grinned and looked around. “Besides; what better place could I have picked for this discussion?”
Peter laughed nervously as he followed his uncle’s gaze out into the restaurant. Their waitress picked that moment to bring their beverages, so when he turned his head his eyes fell directly onto her breasts. She leaned forward as if to give him a better view of her cleavage, and then lingered for a moment as she adjusted the drinks on the table. Peter moaned softly as she walked away, his eyes now on her swaying hips and rounded butt. He started to wonder if she was deliberately torturing him. “Maybe,’ he thought, `she likes teasing teenage boys.’
Pete leaned forward, his voice almost inaudible over the sound of the music. “Look, dude. I found out this week that you and I have a…” He paused to consider his next words. “… a problem in common.” He laughed, and then added “Of course, most guys wouldn’t call this a problem, and it really can be a good thing.” He paused, realizing that he was on the verge of babbling.
The waitresses forgotten for the moment, Peter looked concerned. “Problem, Uncle Pete? What problem?”
Pete momentarily lost his nerve and vacillated. “Well, you know how your mom always says you got your looks from your dad?” Peter nodded.
“Well, you seem to have gotten at least one thing from your mother’s side of the family.”
Peter looked around, confused and a bit frustrated. His uncle was usually straight with him, but today he seemed almost evasive. He blurted out “Can you get to the point, Uncle Pete? You’re driving me nuts!”
The man’s laughter was tinged with nervousness. “Okay. I’ll just say it. Apparently, you’re hung like a horse.” When he was met with a blank stare, he explained “Your sister reports that your penis hangs almost to your knees.”
Peter turned bright red and looked down at the table. He silently cursed his sister, remembering how she had walked in on him in the bathroom. Then his mind started to whirl. `That,’ he thought, `was only a few days ago. Uncle Pete flew out that quick just to talk about my dick?’
The man rushed on, still talking around the main topic. “How long do you think the average adult penis is?” Smiling nervously, he clarified “On a human, that is.”
Peter blushed. Some of his friends liked to burn one another with jokes about penis size, but he had no idea what “normal” might be. His school had provided a single “puberty class” in fifth grade, but it had been short on specifics, and certainly hadn’t addressed issues like size. He swallowed, and then choked as he started to speak. “Umm… I don’t know. Like… nine or ten inches?”
Pete smiled. “Yeah, I can see how you might think that. If you Google it, you’ll read that it’s about five inches.” He smiled ruefully, then added “But how would you go about studying something like penis size? Ask for volunteers?” He paused to give the boy time to think.
“Umm… yeah, I guess so.” When his uncle didn’t respond, Peter thought some more and added “But I guess only guys with big… umm… penises… would volunteer.”
His scientist uncle smiled proudly. “Exactly. We call that sampling bias. You could also do it by self-report, but most guys are gonna add a couple of inches, at least.” He laughed “We call that lying”
Peter was now engaged in the kind of discussion that might happen at school. “So… five inches is probably wrong?” When his uncle nodded, he asked “So how big is the average penis, Uncle Pete?” He was starting to get over his hesitancy to use the unfamiliar vocabulary.
“Believe it or not, the average for adults is about two to four inches, when you drop the self-report studies and just look at the ones where someone else held the ruler.” He pulled a six-inch ruler from his pocket and put it on the table. “From what I hear, you’re quite a bit bigger than that.” He paused and added “… and you’re not an adult yet. You may get bigger still.”
Peter’s voice took on a defensive tone. “So? What does that mean? You came all the way across the country just to talk about my dick?”
Pete reached out and took his nephew’s hand. “Calm down, dude. It’s nothing bad. Just, I had the same problem when I was your age, and your mother thought I might be able to help you deal with it. It’s gonna get a bit… complicated… when you start high school next year. Ya’ know?”
The waitress returned with their meals then. Noticing that he hadn’t touched his drink, she asked “Your milkshake okay, sweety?” She leaned in as she spoke. `Maybe, Peter thought, `pushing her tits into customers’ faces is just a habit.’ He grinned when it occurred to him that it probably helped her tips substantially.
Peter picked up his shake and sucked on the straw for a moment, and then smiled. “No, it’s great.” He noticed that his erection had subsided while he and his uncle spoke, but it returned with a vengeance now, throbbing painfully in his tight jeans. When the waitress left. He looked at his uncle and said “I’m gonna have a hard time standing up when we’re done. Can we talk about something else `till we get outta here?’
Pete nodded, smiling. The hard part of the discussion was over, anyway. “Yeah. I learned some tricks when I was your age. I’m going to take you shopping after lunch.” They finished their meal. Peter smirked “Be sure to leave a good tip,” then collected the car keys and hurried out of the restaurant.
When Pete joined him in the car, he apologized. “I guess having this conversation at Hooters was a mistake. But we’re through it now.” He took his nephew to a department store, where they bought an assortment of athletic supporters and boxer shorts. He made Peter try on several brands of jeans, until they had found some that were baggy enough to obscure the shape of his genitalia. He paid for several pairs but waited until they were out in the car before explaining “You’ll have to try these on at home to see if they do the job when you’re hard.”
Not surprisingly, Peter blushed and a very large bulge formed in his pants. “Could you please stop talking about my dick, Uncle Pete? At least `till we get home?” Gesturing at his crotch, he added “This is embarrassing!”
Pete nodded, and then pulled the car into traffic. “One more stop.” At a sporting goods store, Pete selected some compression shorts, as well as several pairs of board shorts.
Peter nodded his approval when he saw that the shorts reached to his knees. He’d worried about how he was going to keep his dick in his pants when he went swimming over the summer. `This,’ he thought, `will work.’
When they got home, they went straight to Peter’s room. Pete said “You don’t have to show me if you don’t want, but…”
Without hesitation, Peter pushed his jeans and briefs off his narrow hips, exposing himself for his uncle’s inspection. The adult stood and did the same, commenting “You might be bigger than me, Peter.” He laughed “I guess I can’t call you `little dude’ anymore.”
Peter stared at the man’s penis, then asked “Why does yours look so different from mine, Uncle Pete?”
Pete looked from his nephew’s genitalia to his own then grimaced. This was a sore subject for the man, but he decided to avoid any comment about the issues. He fingered his foreskin. “When you were born, you had a hood like this on your penis, but your dad wanted you to grow up to look like him, so he had the doctors cut it off.” Seeing the expression on the boy’s face, he hurried on. “That’s called `circumcision;’ it’s really common in the US and doctors say it doesn’t do any harm.”
Peter nodded. “I learned about that in school, but I didn’t really understand, and didn’t want to sound stupid by asking. Ya’ know?” When his uncle nodded, He stepped out of his jeans, freeing his feet, and went to his desk. Returning with a ruler, he smiled shyly and asked “Can you measure me, Uncle Pete? You have me curious now.” His penis had started to stiffen and thicken immediately, but did not increase in length.
Pete cleared his throat as he took the ruler. “I see you’re a `shower,’ not a `grower.’ That’s something else we have in common.” Laying the ruler along the top of the boy’s semi-hard penis, he grasped the head and stretched it to its full length. “Wow! Ten-and-a-quarter inches. That’s bigger than I am now, and you’re only thirteen.” He couldn’t stop himself from adding “You’d be even longer if you weren’t circumcised.
The man stood back and asked “So, you gonna measure me?” He handed the boy the ruler.
Peter stepped forward, but hesitated before touching his penis. “What do you mean I’m a `shower?’ What’s that?”
Pete explained “When you get to high school, you’re gonna have to take PE. You’ll see that some of the boys have tiny penises that hardly hang down at all, but they get bigger when they’re hard. They’re called “growers.” Others, like you, will hang down and swing back and forth when they walk.” He swayed back and forth, causing his still flaccid cock to swing back and forth like a pendulum. “We’re called `showers’ because our full length and thickness `shows’ all the time.” He stepped forward. “So, you gonna measure me or not?”
Peter touched the ruler to the base of his uncle’s penis and laid it down along its length. “No,” said Pete. “You have to stretch it out to get an accurate measurement. Like this.” Pete gripped the foreskin of his uncut penis and pulled it up toward his nephew. This caused it to cross, like a sword with the boy’s length. “Measure from the base to the tip.”
Peter leaned down, almost forgetting that he was measuring his uncle’s penis as he squinted at the ruler. “Nine-and-a-half,” he pronounced obvious pride in his voice. It wasn’t lost on him that his uncle hadn’t been kidding; he really was bigger than him. He was sure he was bigger than any of his friends, too, but didn’t yet understand the import of that observation.
“I beg your pardon, boy,” his uncle grinned. “I’ll have you know that’s nine-and-five-eighths. It’s bad enough that you beat my record by almost an inch. Don’t cheat me out of that last eighth!” They laughed together companionably.
Peter spent the rest of the afternoon trying on the various items they’d bought, testing to see the effects of the jock strap under boxers, the compression shorts under both his older, tighter jeans and the new, baggy jeans. His uncle also showed him that if he allowed his penis to extend down the leg of his pants, rather than trying to contain it in his briefs, it was less noticeable, but could be quite painful if trapped that way when erect. They were dressed and ready when Peter’s mother called them to dinner.
Uncle and nephew shared many knowing looks over the course of that meal. Peter also exchanged several glances with his sister as he considered what, if anything, he should say to her. He decided he’d consult his uncle, who must have had to deal with the same question with his own sister. He blushed when he realized that his mother also knew about his “problem,” and wondered how he’d ever be able to talk with her about it. ‘Maybe Uncle Pete can help with that, too,’ he thought.
Pete knew the boy would have many adventures related to his rather prodigious organ, but felt that he’d done what he could to prepare him, at least for the time being. He planned to have a long talk with his sister about some of the issues with which she would have to deal over the next four years, as her well-hung son navigated high school, dating, etc.
(c) Copyright 2016 Jordan Bradders. The author reserves all rights.
This story may not be published in any other forum, web site, blog, magazine, granite blocks, golden tablets, parchment, papyrus scrolls, or book without the author’s express prior written permission.