I’m a man with a little dick. But that doesn’t stop women from fucking me – even women who say they want men with
big dicks. They fuck me because I give them what they need, not what they say the want. In “The Adventures of Little
Dick” I’ll share with you the needs of some of the women I’ve met and how I fulfilled them.

Part One: The Grand Canyon

My Three rules

I never approach a woman I don’t know at least casually. There are two reasons for this. First, saying no to a stranger
is easy.That’s a huge obstacle to overcome. Second, I don’t have enough check marks on The List. Every woman has a
list of traits or qualities a man’s gotta have to be considered worthy. High on that list are physical looks and appearance.
I can’t even pass the sight test.


I never ask a woman out on a date. If a woman thinks I’m asking her out on a date, out comes that list. And that list
is absolute. If she’s looking for a Matthew McConaughey, I don’t care if she looks like a gila monster, she’s going to hold
out for a Matthew McConaughey. Logic and reason played no part in the drawing up that list, so there’s no point in trying
to persuade her to toss it.

I always do my homework. It’s absolutely necessary to be thorough and prepared BEFORE I make my approach. I rarely
get a second chance.

The Bait

If you don’t want a woman to know she’s being hunted(asked out), you need to have good bait. Mine at the time was
restaurants. I was always on the look out for great new or relatively undiscovered restaurants before they became “in”
spots.

The Prey

Her name is Lisa. She was someone I’d been running into off and on for at least five years – long enough to know she
had had been divorced for two and had three kids. She was about forty pounds overweight at the time, but a beautiful
woman,and I’m a sucker for a pretty face. So when I saw her at a friends birthday party, I had to take a shot.


“Hi, Lisa,” I said as I approached her at a table set aside for appetizers.
“Hi, Cyrano.”
“I was wondering if you could do me a favor.” I chose my words carefully. The word “favor” was important. I was asking
her to do something FOR me not WITH me. Doing something WITH me is a date, and a date has to pass the list test.
“I heard about a new restaurant opening up that I want to try, and I hate going to restaurants alone. I just feel creepy.”
I wasn’t lying, maybe exaggerating a little. Dining out alone does make me feel uncomfortable and self-conscience. I
stick as as close to the truth as possible, even if it makes me look weak, because women have excellent lie detectors.
“I hear the food is great. Recipes from the Old Country, unique flavors.” This is were the homework comes in. I went
down the menu, practically item by item. I was selling the restaurant and the restaurant experience, not a date with me.
“I don’t know. Between my job and the kids, I really don’t even have time for myself.” I could tell she was feeling
cornered, so I backed off.
“Just think about it. It’s just a short drive from here.” Remember this not a date. Telling her she can drive there
herself reinforces this. “Besides, don’t you need a break from fish sticks and frys,” I say smiling as I and walk away.

I was giving her time to think about it, maybe even talk it over with her friends. It was a low risk offer. By driving there
herself she doesn’t expose where she lives, and the restaurant was in a familiar area. And I left her with something to
think about: Maybe she was due an adult eating experience. And besides she wasn’t doing it for herself, she was doing
it for this poor sap.

Thirty to forty minutes later she walked up to me and said,”Sounds like a good restaurant. I think I can do it Saturday
after next.” She took the bait.

ISABELLA’S

Isabella’s was small restaurant but its large expansive windows made it seem bigger. I was waiting outside pacing and
preparing myself mentally – Lisa was ten minutes late. When I spotted her in the parking lot she was dressed just as I
expected: middle-management chic. This was a Saturday and here she was dressed like she was going to a job i
nterview. I had no flowers- this was not a date. I opened the door for her but I made no attempt to pull out her chair. I
ordered things on the menu because the sole reason for us being there, supposedly, was to sample the food. After the
waiter left, it didn’t take long for her to start in on the interview process.
“So, you like being a mailman?” I had to cut her off quickly or this was going to go south in a hurry. Ms. Middle-
Mangagement was qualifying me as if we were on a date.
“Whoa! No date talk. We’re here for the food. So let’s stick to that. Tell me, what was the first taste you can remember
that you feel real safe and warm inside?” If she followed my lead, I would be back in control. If not, I was just going to enjoy
the food, thank her for joining me, and we were going to go our separate ways.
“My grandmother’s tea cakes,” she said after thinking for minute. I had her. From there on out we talked about food, but in
doing so we covered our childhoods, friends and family, trips and vacations. We were two human beings sharing our lives,
not two automatons talking about five year plans or if we saw children in our future. But more important, when I saw her face
light up when talking about food, I knew she was having good, warm, fuzzy, feelings – feelings for the most part she would
attribute to being with me.

While waiting for our leftovers, I asked her if she would try one more restaurant with me. It was a test. If the evening
allowed her to embrace her FEELINGS, the answer was going to be a quick yes. If it prodded her into THINKING about me
and where this going, I was dead in the water.

DUGAN’S

Our second “date” was at Dugan’s. I couldn’t believe the difference in Lisa’s appearance. It was like night and day. She had squeezed
into a really tight, low cut, red skirt with pumps to match. Her hair had accents in it, and it looked like a professional had done
her makeup.