I don’t mean to brag, but when it comes to women, things have always gone well for me. I just don’t have any difficulty in that department. But when I’m on a date with a special lady, someone I really don’t want to mess things up with, I make sure I’ve gone the extra mile to impress her. I tell these women upfront that I have a second penis.
It’s usually best to subtly drop this information into casual conversation. I may say something like, “Isn’t this the best salmon you’ve ever had? Salmon is always best served with sautéed vegetables and a light butter sauce. I have a second penis.”
This tends to get their attention. “Yes,” they respond breathlessly, after a minute or two has passed and the color has returned to their cheeks. “We should thank the cook for preparing such a marvelous second penis. Excuse me! A marvelous salmon.”
After they get used to the idea, the topic of my two middle legs prompts a few basic questions, like how I ended up with two of them in the first place. I don’t answer them right away. I instead give them the opportunity to come up with crazy theories.
Some of them wonder, well, was it a genetic deformity, like people who are born with a second nose or an extra pair of arms? Others propose that it appeared during puberty, or perhaps developed as a side effect from ingesting massive amounts of testosterone. Still others offer up the possibility that it was surgically grafted in a bizarre, sexy medical experiment.
When they’re done saying all this nonsense, I wait a moment, then let loose with a burst of laughter. I ask them, do you really think it’s so strange that I have two of the same organ? If yes, then that must mean you’ve never heard of a little something called a mirror!
Because guess what? You have two ears, two eyes, two hands, two feet — even two breasts! And on the inside, you have two lungs, kidneys, ovaries…the list goes on and on. I’ve never heard anyone question these pairs of things. What’s so hard to believe about a man with a pair of peckers?
Many doctors — only the male ones, I might add — seem uncomfortable when they discover I possess a two-eyed monster. When I reassure them that they probably can still live normal lives with only one penis, they become noticeably angry and are quick to defend the quality of their sex life. I just nod. I find humoring them is the best way to defuse the situation.
How would I describe my sex life? Well, let me put it this way. Imagine the best sex you’ve ever had. Remember how great that felt? Okay. Now multiply that feeling by the number two. That’s how it feels to have sex with two penises attached to your body.
But there’s something else about me you should know, especially you ladies out there. Despite the fact my sexual prowess outmatches that of every other male on the planet by a factor of two, please don’t think of me as a sex-obsessed Casanova. Just like single-penised men, I have tender emotional needs that even Thing One and Thing Two can’t satisfy.
What I am ultimately looking for in life is to spend the rest of my life with a woman with two vaginas. Only she would understand my brightest hopes and darkest fears. For example, what if one of my Johnson twins becomes a little slow on the uptake, if you know what I mean? A woman with just one vagina wouldn’t really care. A woman with two tunnels of love would understand this pain and help me through it.
I know this woman is out there, waiting, and I will not rest until I find her. Because let’s face it — life is much better when it’s shared with a person you truly care about. Two heads are simply better than one.