Laura*, a 26-year-old administrative assistant, uses Raya to meet men in NYC casually. Thanks to her generous age range settings (“Older guys are hotter and more experienced”), she matched with a 47-year-old with certified Big D*ck Energy, and they hooked up that night.
It turns out, he didn’t only have BDE. “His d*ck was like a foot long,” she says. “Never-before-seen territory.” Laura ended up having the best sex of her life that night. “You know the phrase ‘rearranging your guts’? That’s how it felt.”
The pair has hooked up on and off over the last few months, and Laura has always known the vibes were casual. That hasn’t stopped her from catching some feelings, though. “I feel like I have a crush on him, and that should not be happening with this guy,” she says, especially since she knew he had no intentions of becoming exclusive. “I’ve been with a few people since him, and I cannot stop comparing.”
Falling victim to a man’s d*cksand has plagued pop culture divas from Blair Waldorf (I mean, it’s Chuck Bass — can you blame her?) to Carrie Bradshaw (hello, Mr. Big). And now, Taylor Swift has found herself in the same position. In her latest album, The Life of a Showgirl, she cheekily nods to her fiancé’s skills in the bedroom. “Wood” may be disguised as an anthem about superstitions, but the lyrics about Travis Kelce are pretty NSFW: “Forgive me, it sounds cocky, he (ah!)matized me and opened my eyes / Redwood tree, it ain’t hard to see / His love was the key that opened my thighs.” Take away the arborous metaphors, and there’s only one way to describe this feeling: Swift got d*ckmatized, or hypnotized by really good d*ck.
“We start hooking up, and he has a huge d*ck … I was like, ‘This is everything I need.’
This phenomenon is easy to spot when you know what to look for. D*ckmatization symptoms include: rearranging plans for a sexcapade, daydreaming about your next hookup, and believing you’ve fallen in love when really you’re just smitten with his d*ck.
Sometimes couples can turn amazing sex into real romance, and these women get to stick by (and get sticked by) their partner’s Redwood tree for life, while others are left only with some hard-earned lessons.
Molly*, a 29-year-old customer success manager, was also on the hunt for something casual when she matched with a ripped fitness bro on Bumble and got some first-hand experience with his magic wand. Fresh off a broken engagement with her long-term live-in partner, she was ready for a hookup and decided to meet up with her Bumble beau because he met her one requirement: “This guy seemed interesting enough to have sex with.”
Once they met up in person, he met her needs — and then some. “We start hooking up, and he has a huge d*ck,” she says. “Just great in bed, absolutely obsessed with me, and I was like, ‘This is everything I need.’”
I was like, ‘Fine, whatever, ugh. I guess I’ll date you even though I don’t like you at all.’
Unfortunately, a casual fling wasn’t everything he needed. After some booty calls, he laid out his terms: “He said, ‘I’m doing this unless we’re in a relationship,’” she says. “So I was like, ‘Fine, whatever, ugh. I guess I’ll date you even though I don’t like you at all.’”
At first, Molly’s d*ckmatization made her overlook her lackluster feelings. “I just didn’t want to give up the sex,” she says. “Even though, as a person, there was no substance at all.”
They dated for eight months until she finally called it quits when he got her an unforgivable Valentine’s Day present: a silver heart necklace. “He didn’t know me at all. I only wear gold jewelry,” she says. With one crappy gift, her spell was lifted, and Molly was free.
And yet, some sorcery is more stubborn. After a traumatizing breakup, Sophie*, a 25-year-old who works in advertising, felt ready to put herself out there again, and a sweet boy from her kickball league seemed like a nonthreatening place to start. That is, until the Brooklynite came face-to-face with a penis the size of her head — “lengthwise,” she clarifies.
Initially, Sophie’s kickball-playing paramour seemed a little too well-endowed. He even told her that his d*ck sent his first-ever sexual partner to the emergency room. “He tore her vagina open,” Sophie says. “She had to go to the ER and get stitched up.”
Fortunately, he had plenty of practice since that incident and now knew exactly how to prevent hospital visits. Sophie was hooked. “At first, I was just thinking, ‘This is good practice,’” she explains, “But then we went to have sex, and it was ginormous. That changed my perspective.”
The sex is so good that I don’t want him to be hooking up with anyone else.
Still, she wasn’t sold on entering another relationship just yet. “I started thinking, ‘Maybe it’s not just a one-time thing, but just until I get my groove back.’” And yet, soon enough, Sophie was full-on d*ckmatized. “Compared to how I usually am with more casual things, I was reaching out way more to ask, ‘What are you doing tonight? Should we hang out soon?’”
She couldn’t get enough and eventually caught real feelings. A year and a half later, Sophie and her man are still going strong, and they’re proof that sometimes the d*ckmatization stage can last — so long as you’re left with more orgasms than ER bills.
As for Laura’s hypnosis — six months after their first hookup, she’s still trying to snap out of it. “I think about him more than I’d like to admit,” she says. “The sex is so good that I don’t want him to be hooking up with anyone else. I want it all to myself.”
As they continue their sporadic hookups, she gets pulled back in each time. As of publication, there’s no end in sight to her d*ckmatization.
*Names have been changed.
