Digression: my limited experience with British men is that they tend to have simply giant cocks. Granted, I’ve only fucked around five British dudes, but four of them have had dicks all out of proportion with their usually scrawny and normal-sized bodies. They have been narrow, whippy trees, these Brits, but all except one have wielded in their pants a mighty, mighty oak. Percentage-wise, Britons are a big-dicked nation, my slender experience has dictated. Rex proved the rule, and not the singular, thought not himself tiny, exception.

In addition to the giant cock, a cock big enough that I failed to fit it in entirety in my mouth—though I tried—Rex had Byronic hair, a wicked sense of humor, and a floofy ass. His body was thin and narrow, all upright lines and sinewy slopes, but for an ass that would have seemed better formed on a Brazilian model. It was a big, jiggly, heart-shaped ass, a thing of singular beauty, made more remarkable, like the heads on Easter Island, by its shockingly unusual placement. It was an ass made for exploration. A mysterious ass. I did not spelunk it. I have some regrets. That’s one.

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