My Husband Has A Two Inch Cock and Other Stories

Nothing surprises me about people anymore, especially after I have candidly interviewed hundreds of them for articles.

I promise you, there is nothing that can shock me anymore. From turning up to what I thought was going to be a sedate interview and ending up on a porn set watching a midget lick salad dressing from an effergy of the Virgin Mary, to being fingered by a 63 year old tantric sex expert in front of a room full of strangers, I’ve seen it all.

Do you want to hear some of my interview stories? Of course you do. And don’t worry, I will start with the porn one so you don’t have to skip.

The Midget and the Salad Dressing

I’m not going to tell you who it is, but there is a well known ‘adult actor’ who has built up a reputation as one of the lead stars in ‘Midget Porn’. Only, he want’s to stop doing porn and get into the world of celebrity cookery.

Not a word of a lie, he wanted to audition to be one of the new Bake Off hosts, but was told that camera angles would be tricky, due to the his stature and the size of the contestant’s work benches (if you didn’t chuckle then, you are dead).

So he came up with an idea of  being the next Ainsley Harriott and wanted to publicise his new recipes for salad dressing.

See, this is where I didn’t take the interview seriously – because salad dressing looks like Cum.

But off I went to interview him anyway, in a basement in Hackney which he called his office. It wasn’t an office.

It was a porn studio.

One that was in use at that.

A very polite assistant made me a cup of tea and we made small talk while a midget fucked a tall blond woman ten feet away from me.

When he’d finished (all over her face) he came and sat down next to me, naked and sweating and ready to talk about his salad dressing, which he dolloped onto a plate next to me, splattering some on a statue of the Virgin Mary as he did so.

Yes, it looked like cum.

Yes, he picked up the statue and licked it off.

As far as I know, Waitrose haven’t offered him a deal yet.

My Husband Has a Two Inch Cock – Would You Like To Feel It?

“My husband got me pregnant with a turkey baster!” That was to be the title for the article I had to write for the down market magazine that you only read when you are bored out of your mind in hospital.

The woman I was interviewing had three children with her husband all conceived by turkey baster as his penis was too small for intercourse.

For a man with a small cock, he couldn’t have been prouder of it, nor could she.

They were so proud that they asked me if I would like to see it, flaccid and erect, and if i would like to touch it to see what it felt like.

I didn’t.

To be fair, I was curious, but no. Even I wouldn’t go that far.

They did insist on showing me photographs, and the turkey baster. After seeing the size of his dick, I think I would have preferred the baster too.

Cookie Got Fingered

This one is fucked up, so buckle up tight.

It started with a late night phone call from a journalist friend.

Hi! So I really need someone to cover a story for me tomorrow morning about a massage place. It’s a pretty easy gig and the paper is paying £500…

My head heard £500, punched the air and said “bye bye gas bill”, so I wasn’t really listening when she gave me the postcode of the place I needed to go.

Which is why I turned up a little bit late and was ushered onto another porn set.

Okay, so this wasn’t actually a porn set but at first glance it looked like one.

It was a dimly lit room with about 20 people sat in a circle around a woman, naked from the waist down, flat on her back being fingered by an old hippy.

This wasn’t just any old massage. It was tantric massage, aka, get your clit diddled by a stranger for 15 minutes in the name of enlightenment.

Because I arrived late, every one had already been put with a partner. The only person left was an elderly man called Keith who was just as in shock as I am.

I think they want us to be massage partners” said Keith, who was white as a sheet and looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up, “but I’m not sure this is my kind of thing. Would you like to go to for a cup of tea instead until this is all over?

“Yes Keith, yes.

Lets run away from this horror and find sanctury amoung the normal people of Costa.”

Is what I should have said. But. £500 and a byline in a national? It beats being a blog whore, plus the gas bill was looming.

Do I really need to say what happened next?

I was partnered with the instructor, a 63 year old woman called ‘Desire’. I’m sure that wasn’t her real name.

Yes, what you are imagining is true. She had a go.

It wasn’t all bad, but in a room full of people? Hmm.

It was a lay back and think of that bloke I’ve fancied for ages type of situation.

 

(And yes I did. Three times. You’re welcome).

 

 

 

 

 

 

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