Submitted by Lilly:
Jonah explained from the beginning that he was a man of mystery:
He wrote, "People like to think that I'm an all-around good guy, and I am. But I have certain things from my past that I want to keep secret. I'm sure that everyone does."
I wrote back, "Just so long as one of those certain things isn't, 'I'm a serial killer,' or something similar."
"No! God no! Nothing at all similar to that!" he wrote back, "I just have certain secrets that the whole world would probably be way better off not knowing."
Ah, melodrama. I'm sure that he had broken a few hearts, hurt people along the way... everyone does. I liked everything else about him. That is, aside from the fact that he worked in his little bit about keeping secrets with each exchange.
Before meeting up for the first time, we spoke on the phone. As a joke, I asked him, "So, tell me one of your deep, dark secrets." I meant it to be fun and flirtatious.
He took a deep breath and sighed. "Let's just say that you'd have second thoughts about meeting me if you knew."
Again, at this point, I was reasonably sure that he was just kidding around, or that he was making too big a deal out of something minor. I was expecting "I had a homosexual experience in college" or "I spied on my sister undressing."
We met up, and he did come across as a good guy. A little nervous, but I chalked that up to first-date anxiety. I was nervous, too. However, unlike him, I didn't keep looking over my shoulder and biting my lip. He was seriously uptight about something, and I think that it was more than the date.
I asked him what was going on. He asked me to tell him something about myself that I considered secret, and then he'd tell me his deep, dark tale.
I told him that I had stolen a bike during freshman year in college, and returned it two years later. I had never told anyone this before.
He leaned in close to me and said, "I did something awful a few years ago too. Ever since then, I've had a kind of physical... issue."
"Impotence?" I asked, perhaps a bit too loud. Sorry.
He said, "I did a ritual with a girlfriend and now... I have two dicks."
You read that right. I was in a great mood that night, so I didn't see any harm in indulgence. He repeated what he said, and explained that he had a second member above his naturally occurring man-growth.
I told him, "That's awesome. Can I see?"
I wasn't about to let such an opportunity pass me up. There are only so many times that a woman experiences a two-pronged man in her lifetime. I wasn't about to put my mouth or my lady-parts on top of him... I just wanted to see.
He nodded solemnly.
After dinner, we went to my car, I drove to a little suburban street, parked, and asked him to yank down his pants. He did.
He had a regular, floppy wang. Just one.
"I see one," I said.
He groaned and parted some of his hair. There, just barely poking up from his skin, was a little pimple. Emphasis on little.
I laughed. "I wouldn't go around bragging that that's a second penis anymore... and especially if it was your first one, and the second one's the larger."
He laughed a bit himself, then reached for my head. I anticipated this, and shoved him back at the passenger side door.
He went for my head again, with both hands, and I threatened to scream rape if he tried it again.
"You wanted to see my dick!" he said.
"I wanted to see two dicks," I explained, "You didn't deliver. And I never promised you anything. Ever. If anyone here owes anyone something, it's you."
"Fuck this," he said, hiking his pants back up and jumping out of my car.
I drove home, not having seen a man with two of anything, except perhaps with two sex drives. C'est la vie.
Submitted by Lilly: