Beta Chronicles #001 – Prisha the Indian Petite
NOTE: This is a real story with real events, but the names have been changed to protect the innocent, and personal identifying information has been redacted in the audio recordings.
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Prisha is a 26 year old Indian girl who lives in Canada. She came to study about three years ago and took up a job in a bank after graduating. She’s petite, measuring only five feet and two inches, although she likes to claim she’s an inch taller. She’s fond of high heels, which make her look more feminine and give her additional inches in height. Although she weighs only 95 pounds, that weight is evenly distributed on her frame, giving her quite the attractive petite body. I met her online and we briefly texted for a while before we finally called on the phone. She had just dyed her hair red, after having had blonde highlights, but she complained that the result wasn’t to her full satisfaction. I could see on her display picture that she was wearing a very skimpy light blue crop-top that showed much of her stomach, hiding her small breasts behind a flimsy lacy fabric. She was wearing a very short juniper colored skirt that started just above her bellybutton and ended way too high on her knees. Instead of high heels, her picture showed her wearing a pair of black moccasins. She didn’t accessorize, save for a bracelet she wore on her left wrist. She had light skin.
Living away from her country and away from her family afforded her the freedom to explore her sexuality and express herself as she wished through her choice of clothes. There is no doubt that she could not dress as provocatively in her home country of India as she could in that display picture she had in Canada. She had a sexy vibe about her, an overall easy-going demeanor when we talked on the phone, and her visible thighs on her picture suggested she had a nice ass for a petite girl. I wish I could have gotten a better look of her butt, perhaps in a pair of jeans, but I was lucky enough that she was wearing a short skirt on her picture, so I was satisfied with the sight of her exposed and perfectly smooth legs.
I asked her about her dating life in Canada, and she told me that she “met” many, many guys. The problem, she said, was that it’s hard for her to find someone she really connects with on a personal level, someone like her, but she did admit that it’s very easy for her to “get” guys, and that she even dated guys who were 6’3. I found it curious how she was using terms like “meet” and “get”, which I assumed were euphemisms for dating and fucking, respectively. She complained about her job and told me that she would rather not work at all, and that the only reason she was working at her job is because she was earning good money.
I asked her when was the last time she had a relationship, and she replied evasively, saying that it had been a long time. She said she had dated guys but it never got serious. I decoded this to mean that she was just hooking up with different guys without commitment. I figured that she had just not warmed up enough to open up to me about it. She told me that the last guy she dated stopped seeing her because she could not text him a lot. She gave a funny excuse for this: that she had to work in the mornings. She sighed in exasperation at the seeming inability of that guy to understand her, and she admitted that she was actually the one to stop talking to him, after having insinuated that it was he who decided to stop things. I suppose that in her view of the world, it was indeed he who “broke up” with her, in whatever türbanlı seks hikayeleri strange sense she attributed to the term.
She said something in passing when complaining about the guy she was dating, and it caught my attention. She told me that if he was expecting her to compromise her work for him, then he should have been sending her money. She quickly rambled on other topics, saying how she felt that nobody wants to date seriously and everybody just wants to fuck around, but I reflected on her prior comment as she kept talking. The more I looked at her legs in her display picture, the more I thought to myself that she did really deserve to be sent money.
She told me she decided to stop dating altogether, which is why she is single. I knew just from looking at her picture that she was having sex with someone: you could just tell somehow. I decided to ask her about it nonchalantly by pretending that I understood her comment to mean that she was just hooking up with guys now without necessarily looking for a relationship. She was much more likely to give an honest answer this way than if I had asked her directly. She paused for a brief moment, then said: “Well, like I said, I met guys, so…” This confirmed that she was still hooking up with at least one guy from the many she had met. And how could she not? A girl as hot as her will always be fucking somebody, even when she’s “single”.
She told me that she was done “fucking around”, and that she wanted a relationship. At this point, she had quite warmed up to me and felt comfortable enough to tell me that she had fucked around “a lot”. She laughed about it and I laughed with her, pretending not to care and trying to communicate that I won’t judge her for her choices. She told me that in the last year alone, she had “met” maybe 30 guys, and when I asked her how many of them she slept with, she said that it was maybe 20. She wasn’t sure of the numbers, and she made it seem like she did not care enough to keep count of who she slept with. She told me she was such a good girl for not sleeping with all 30 of them. I’m not sure if she meant it as a joke or if she said it seriously.
Prisha complained that she had changed and that she was now looking for a serious relationship, even though just months ago she was still fucking a lot of guys. She claimed that she was just using dating as an escape to cope with a hard time she was having after complications from getting a certain medication. She told me she thought it was wrong for her to hookup indiscriminately with guys, and that she should not make herself available to everyone because she would just be giving herself away. She said she was worth more than that, and this made me remember the comment she made about the guy giving her money.
I asked her about all the sex that she had, and she told me that some of it was good and some of it was bad. When I asked her about the best sex she had, she replied nostalgically, almost as if she was longing for it to happen again. She told me it was with “one of the guys” who was really good in bed and just knew what he was doing. She paused for a moment, and I knew she was reliving in her head memories of her getting fucked by that guy. The faint smile on her lips gave away what she was thinking about.
I asked her what the worst sex was. She did not have to think much about it: it was with the same guy she told me about before, the one she broke up with because she was not texting him enough (yes, I wrote that correctly). She gave a trio of complaints that made it sound like she had them prepared in her head, as if she had thought about the subject over and over again before, or perhaps she had talked about it to her girlfriends enough times that she knew exactly what to complain about. The first complaint was that the guy was bald. The second complaint was that he was her height, and she was only 5’2, which would be shocking if true. I wondered how a hot girl like her would ever consider having a serious relationship with a guy who was 5’2, and I thought maybe she was exaggerating, that perhaps he was only her height when she was wearing four inch heels or something.
She said that she did not care what he looked like, because he had a good heart and a good personality. She told me she would not date someone that short now, and she excused her past choices by saying she was different back then. She would only date someone who’s “average” height now, whatever an average height was for her. The third complaint she had was that the guy had a visible back hump. She could not help herself from bursting out laughing as she said it.
I already knew what was coming next. “He had a very small penis,” she said on a very low tone, as if it was the most serious objection she could ever make about him. She told me she sacrificed so much when she chose to be with this guy. I asked her how small he was, thinking that perhaps he had a legitimate micropenis, but her answer shocked me. She told me he was 5 inches hard, and 3.5 inches soft. She burst out laughing again. I laughed along with her every time she laughed to make her feel comfortable enough to share with me how she really felt about these things, but I suppose I could not help but blush a little after she said that he was five inches.
Five inches! That’s definitely not a “very small” penis by any measure. Perhaps it’s a little small if the average if 5.2 or 5.5, but the thing I had to remember was that Prisha was not talking in terms of the statistics of penis size as they are studied in academic research. Prisha was talking in terms of the averages of the cocks she had had, and based on those statistics, she was saying that 5 inches is “very small” for her, small enough that she would laugh just from saying it.
I asked her if she could feel him when they had sex, and she replied with an emphatic no, laughing again. She told me he could not make her horny and wet, but she did tell me he used to cum easily. I thought about the situation: she was dating a guy who she thought had a “very small” penis, yet she still had sex with him multiple times and allowed him to cum to her, even though he did not even make her wet. Plus all the physical complaints she had about him. I thought that guy was the luckiest guy in the world to have gotten so far with such a hot girl. She told me she was not even in love with him, even though she did admit she had some feelings. I wondered if I could ever have the same chance with her.
I asked her if that was the smallest dick she’s ever had, and she said it wasn’t. She told me about some guy she had met at her job when she first came to Canada who was 3 inches. He told her that he had a bike accident when he was a kid, and his penis never grew from it. He had the decency to tell her this before they fucked, and she still decided to fuck him for some reason, although she did admit they couldn’t really fuck due to the size limitations. She said they tried to do it anyway. I kept validating her judgments and she cozied up to me more and more. The only reason she slept with him, she told me, is that she could not get herself to say no and risk embarrassing the guy. She said she felt like such a nice girl for doing this, because she just could not “get down there” and tell the guy that it’s “really small”. This particular moment in the conversation was cause for much laughter from her.
This naturally led to my asking the question of her size preference, which she wasn’t very precise about. “Anything over six”, she told me after a moment’s pause. I replied nonchalantly, and she followed it up by asking me if I was six or over. “Are you? Six or over?… Or not?” And she burst out laughing again, and I laughed with her, trying my best to act unaffected, even though inside I was panicking. I lied to her and told her that of course, I was six or over, and that as a matter of fact I was 7.5 inches, the first number that popped into my head. I did not anticipate her question, so I had no time to think about being honest with her, but in the moment I felt like if I told her the truth, she would not continue talking to me, given her preferences, and that was her right to do so of course.
But lying to her also meant that I could never hope to get intimate with her now, because she would discover my real size, and that’s if she even gives me a chance. When I told her I was seven and a half, she replied with an “oh, cool” with the greatest air of normalcy, as if that was not enough to impress her. You could hear it in the way she replied, that she did not think 7.5 inches was anything special. I even noted perhaps a slight disappointment in her voice.
She told me she goes specifically for personality when it comes to guys. She did admit that looks matter, but she said that it comes second. She said that “what’s down there” comes way after personality and looks, because she can only find out what a guy is packing after they eventually have sex. I wondered whether she wished she could live in a world where she could know a guy’s size before she even decided to go out with him, but I didn’t ask her that hypothetical question. She told it was good that the guy who had the bike accident knew he was small, and that he accepted it, but that on the contrary, she did not say anything to the bald guy who was five inches that she broke up with three months prior. She lamented that that guy still probably thinks he has an average penis, and she said “it’s not even average, honestly”.
She kept saying that she’s changed, and that she wasn’t the way she was before, that she wouldn’t do many of the things she did before. This made me ask her if she would now date someone who was under six inches. She sighed deeply and paused for a moment, bursting into laughter. “It’s hard…” she finally said. She told me that if she could not feel anything, then that would be a no, but she did say she would probably still date someone who “knew how to work it”, but she still had to be able to “feel it”. The way she said it made me think that she did not really believe what she was saying, that she was simply saying it because it was the polite thing to say, the proper answer to give to that question. How could a hot girl like Prisha ever settle for a dick she thinks is small? And remember that small for her means anything under six inches. Five inches is indeed “very small” for her as she herself said.
I wondered how a petite girl like her could have not only such high standards, but a completely distorted view of the penis size distribution in the male population. Not only is she petite, she is Indian, but that seemingly does nothing to mitigate her expectations. We veered next into general boring topics of conversation on the phone, and she told me she would show me around her city if I ever visit her. The conversation ended shortly after because she had to get ready to go out. I’m going to keep talking to Prisha, but I hope she never asks me for a dick pic.