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The GW Hatchet

AN INDEPENDENT STUDENT NEWSPAPER SERVING THE GW COMMUNITY SINCE 1904

The GW Hatchet

Serving the GW Community since 1904

The GW Hatchet

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Officials name senior vice president, chief of staff
By Fiona Riley, Assistant News Editor • March 26, 2024

Sex Column: “Measuring what matters”

We’ve got a secret surprise hiding under our covers this year. The Hatchet will bring you an anonymous columnist, Delilah, to report on sex at GW.

Editor’s note: Names have been changed to protect the naughty.

I’ve heard it so many times. At parties, on the way to the gym, eating carry out with my roommates and on late night reruns of Talk Sex with Sue Johansen. This question also seems to generate a fair amount of junk mail promising elephant sized results and a hotter sex life. As of now, I don’t know if anyone has given men a well-hung explanation or a sufficient one liner about their junk because it seems to get asked over and over again, “Does size matter?” I wish I could just give you fellas a yes or a no answer, but I think you all deserve something much bigger.

Men aren’t the only ones who are under the impression that size matters. Whether it is a million-dollar home, the Hummer your dad bought after he turned 50 or a set of breasts, here in America bigger is always thought to be better, and if you haven’t noticed by now breasts are everywhere. Sticking out of push-up bras, or barely covered under a party dress, breasts are more outgoing and publicized than an underage celebrity with a drinking habit. This is certainly not the case with a man’s member. The penis is like that celebrity that just got out of rehab, a bit more low-key and hard to find. Whether it’s in a locker room, a bedroom, an occasional art piece or on a nude beach, the penis seems to represent something very different. Besides, I have yet to hear a woman yell at a guy to drop his pants for a pair of Mardi Gras beads nor have I heard a woman say she wanted to hook up with a guy because she heard he had a great dick.

This cocky question even followed me most unexpectedly as I laid in bed exhausted after a recent sack session with a fine stud we’ll call “J.Crew” J. Crew is handsome, witty and a pretty self-assured guy, but he apparently didn’t feel like a name brand label despite his first-rate performance.

“Are you sure you’re okay with the size?” he nervously said as we lay there naked. I couldn’t believe that this confident sexy man was actually asking this after all the thrusting, sweating and bending we had done just minutes earlier. J. Crew, like many men, seemed to think that being a good lay was about being the right size, but it wasn’t J. Crew’s size that made him so good. It was his kiss, the way he knew how to touch me, the whiff of cologne I could smell under his chin, his good posture when he sat at his desk or a dinner table and that he was so eager to satisfy me. In fact, if it wouldn’t have been sufficiently awkward I would have fessed up to J.Crew that the worst sex I have ever had was with a guy who could have made a Blue Whale look small.

When it comes to how I measure up a guy, it has little to do with width, girth, centimeters or inches. What does measure up to me is how he measures up to himself. A man who tells himself he is too small probably has too small of an opinion of himself to have a big opinion about you. On the other hand, a man who is too cocky about who he is has the length to please himself but none to spare to you. Penises are just as different as the men they are attached to. Some are big, some are small, some hang to the left and some hang to the right, but remember my gentleman friends if you want to be the man of my dreams, it’s not the size that will win me over.

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