My Black Penis

At Justin's house party last night I noticed an odd plethora of well-tanned people, looking too tan for February. It then occured to me while I was peeing and looking myself in the mirror that I'm a Vietnamese Casper. Like your everyday mongloid, my skin is yellow, but last night my skin looked pale yellow. For a minute, looking at Missy and Angie's new melatonin-enriched skin made me feel kind of jealous.

And then I remembered why I don't tan anymore.

A couple years back when I was about to go to Las Vegas for spring break, I decided to go tanning for a few sessions. I just thought it'd be kind of neat to try it, and I also wanted to look extra sexy at the black jack tables.

Becky recommended that I use tanning lotion, so I bought the best one money could buy and headed out to the tanning salon. I did as the bottle instructed, applying it liberally to all exposed parts of my skin.

But then came the question of what to do about my penis. I was totally naive about the whole lotion thing -- I thought it was supposed to protect your skin from UV-radiation and stuff, NOT ENHANCE THE TANNING EFFECTS. So, me mistakingly thinking I'm protecting myself from UV-rays, I put gobs and gobs of the lotion on my cock 'n balls. Thinking that I never want to have children with hands growing out of their foreheads, I made sure every part of my cock 'n balls was covered by the lotion. 'Cause I'll be damned if any son of mine is a mutant.

Knowing that I was only coming in to tan for just a few sessions, I emptied half of the bottle onto my genitals. There, I thought. Let's see ultra-violet radiation get through this!

My penis was practically plastered to the side of my thigh, lotion oozing and dripping onto the tanning bed. Fifteen minutes later, I was shocked by what I saw.

I now had a black dong. Everywhere else on my body, I thoroughly looked Asian. But if your eyes wandered below the waist, I had Afro-dick. It was so bizarre. I was wondering if my penis -- which I affectionately called Quasimodo -- should now be called Jerome. Or Jamal. Or Malcolm X.

Males of African descent have always been the envy and the awe of every other race on the planet, due to their reputation for being well-hung. I now, superficially, was one of them. Now, you might wonder if the Pete-ster had the size to back up the darkness? Here's your answer:

Yesterday Dave and I were playing darts and he was missing short on a lot of his throws so I let him know about it. "Short," I said. "Like yo penis!"

"Har har, like you would know."

"Yeah man, Becky told me allll about you."

Dave smirked and said, "I didn't know 6.75 inches was short."

I thumped my chest and said: "It is, if your buddy owns an eight-incher! BAM!!!"

Okay, so I might have exaggerated. But shoot, I wear size 12 shoes. That stands for something, doesn't it?