The Seductive Countess Part I: Carlos and the Aesthetic Nature of Cocks

When I was in college, I was cast in a show called “the Seductive Countess.” The director, a flamboyant gay man, decided to do all the casting with reverse genders. The Countess was to be played by a six foot drag queen named Carlos. For a cheap sight gag, I was cast as “her” husband. Carlos in his blonde wig and platform stilettos would tower over me as I professed my love to him in Moliere’s words.

There were only two other girls in the cast. One was a fairly mousy actress who did nothing to accentuate her amazing body. The other was a hag wannabe. Finding herself suddenly in the company of all these drag queens and fags, she was trying desperately to be accepted-renting movies like Mame and Mommie Dearest. She would try and sit next to Carlos while he applied his false eyelashes and eye shadow.

Carlos, of course, hated her.

To defend himself from the constant onslaught of questions, poses, and invitations, he began having me sit next to him while he put on his make up. I was young then. I had just barely lost my virginity. I was so innocent that I refused to have sex on top because I didn’t want to embarrass myself by not knowing what to do.

Carlos decided to fix this problem by submitting me to a series of tutorials. The first was how to tell if a man had a big cock just by looking. Very subtly, Carlos instructed me to look at the crotch of various cast members. “You know Ari has a big one. Look at the bulge. Too bad about his face. Still, you know, when you are down there, a pretty face doesn’t really matter. Of course, you can tell if a cock is big or small by looking, but you can’t tell how pretty it is.”

“Pretty?”

“Oh yes. Some of them are just beautiful, flawless even, you know, like something that should be framed and put in the Louvre. Others, well, others you just close your eyes and hope the next one isn’t so ugly.”

But despite his effort, I couldn’t master the art of “sizing.”