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Mike Salvini
Indeed, to browse through the various P.E. forums is to enter a rudimentary anatomy course. It's also to listen in on a motivational seminar. Men open up to each other about the shame they've felt at the urinal, of deflating sexual encounters, of the fear that consumes them every time they expose themselves to ridicule. They confess to a desire to reshape their lives. "I would have imagined that a lot of the men on these forums would be smallish guys who maybe have an axe to grind with women," says "Luvdadus," "but that's not the case. There's a lot of support." The support doesn't extend into the real world, however; like so many communities that flourish online, P.E. thrives in part because of its anonymity.
These are men who think a great deal about their penises; like Mike, they are submerged. But what concerns Dr. Sharlip is why men feel the need to raise the bar in the first place. Of those who come to him for advice, he says, "the very great majority -- 99 percent -- have normal penile size. It's a psychological problem more than a physical one."
Mike denies that his obsessions with enlarging his penis stem from some primordial trauma. "It wasn't a huge emotional drama I was trying to settle," Mike says. "What guy's not going to want to go out and make his dick bigger?"
Bigger in his case means 13.6 inches BPEL (bone-pressed erect length) -- measured along the top from the pubic bone to the fully loaded tip. Properly documented, this would be the largest erect penis in the world. To record the moment, Mike would need a new ruler. "Now that's an anxiety attack," he says. "A 15-inch ruler. I don't want that in my bathroom." It would, rather than validate his size, taunt him with the other inch and a half.
As man after man boasts online of a double-digit P.E. goal, the question presents itself: How much is too much? Veterans are quick to point out that you have to know when to stop. After all, you can't take off a half-inch if the woman you're with can't ... accommodate you. Bib's gains, for example, took some acclimation. "At first I did not know how to use the thing," he says with a dry laugh. "It can be absolutely great, but you do have to point it in the right direction."
Chances are Double Long Daddy will never run out of pupils. He continues to mentor dozens of men who write to him seeking help, as well as the paying members of Matters of Size. (The site does not yet make money, but Mike expects that sales from the DVD will change that. For now, he lives off savings and Jen's salary.) For free, he will design a routine for the one-armed guy with a 4-inch penis, and one for the 68-year-old man with Peyronie's Disease, a condition that causes a severely bent phallus. A man once e-mailed him from Japan wanting to come live under his roof for a week of personal coaching; Mike said no, but continues to mentor the man in one-on-one video messaging. He might not need that 15-inch ruler yet, but he has no doubt that someday he will. For now, he's happy simply to spread the word about the wonders of P.E. "I became less and less embarrassed and more and more proud as time went on," he says. "I'm still uncomfortable about showing you my penis, but talking about it is easier."
His remarks underscore one of the real reasons I came to visit: verification. After all, pictures can always be doctored; proving your story is increasingly difficult in an age of Photoshop-spawned trompe l'oeil suspicion. Mike was OK with the arrangement, if a little nervous. When he opened the door to greet me, he had said, "Sorry if I'm a little woozy. I took a Viagra before you came so you can get a good measurement."
Three hours later, there's nothing left to talk about. "Moment of truth," he says now with a grin. "Let me just get ready." He walks into the bathroom with Jen. Waiting in the adjacent kitchen, I try not to listen to their soft rustlings. "How do they do this in �naked people movies� movies?" Mike calls out.
A moment passes. He calls me in. He's not satisfied with the partial erection he's managed to raise. He grabs a handful of Vaseline, Jen faces the wall and drops her thong, and I exit with haste. Another moment passes. And another.
"OK -- hurry!"
He is sitting on the toilet, shirt off, shorts around his ankles, red-faced. His right hand holds a ruler and his left ... well, his left hand seems to be choking some otherworldly tentacle. The thing's the size of a paper towel roll, but looks perfectly healthy.
"Check the ruler," he says in a faintly strangled tone. Leaning forward gingerly, I confirm that his bone-pressed penis is indeed 10 and a half inches.
As the blood drains back to the rest of his body, Mike twists his penis over and points to the stretch mark. And, sure enough, it is there, and it is nearly 5 inches long, pink and angry, a symbol of everything a man can aspire to.
salon.com
About the writer
Peter Rubin is the former GQ Magazine staff writer and is currently a freelance writer living in New York City.
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