Awe and shock.

"Lord, have mercy," came the flabbergasted prayer from the short-haired blonde. It was Detective Bartlett, the religious woman. Her blonde hair was short enough to be on a man's and she wore blue earrings. Her forehead was large and scrunched up by shock.

"He's three times as big as my ex husband," he heard Detective Kasinsky grumble. Aaron rubbed the back of his neck while raising the cup.

"Here. I'm done."

Again, Aaron wasn't particularly embarrassed about being naked in a room full of clothed women. Once again, he had nothing to be ashamed about. Well-hung, muscled, and relatively good-looking. Nonetheless, an uneasy and prickly atmosphere brought itself down upon them.

He put the cum-filled cup on the desk. He searched for his gown and saw it hanging off of Tam's arm.

"I have it here." And Tam gestured as if to say come get it.

Aaron internalized a sigh and strolled to her. The young nurse was surrounded by her fellow black women. Dr. Sayer, Tam, Detectives Mac and McKenna. It was as if they made their own little group upon the presence of his white dong.

Dr. Sayer was the shortest and the second darkest of the lot. Her complexion was a deep and dark brown, and she had long ruffled hair and a contagious laughter.

Then there was Tamara Fox. Her dark brown afro stood out as did her relative youth in comparison to her peers. Her skin tone was lighter, a golden-brown rather than a warm undertone like the doctor's.

Josephine MacDonald, better known as Josie Mac, was similar in complexion and age to Dr. Sayer, putting her somewhere in her thirties. There was a great difference in their build and overall appearance, however. The experienced detective was built, had a noticeable bust, and dutifully wore red lipstick. Yet most importantly, her hair was in dreads and styled into a high ponytail.

Finally, Melody McKenna, the serious ambitious detective in her late twenties. Always eager to solve the case. She was a lot more gung-ho than her fellow black detective and darker in complexion too. Much darker. She was clearly of Eastern African descent seeing how she was the darkest. Ebony with curly umber-coloured hair tied in a low-ponytail, brows narrowed, painting her as the intensely determined one of the group.

As Aaron retrieved his gown from Tam, they turned their backs and began conversing with one another. Gossiping, giggling, comparing.

"Big white cock, huh," Dr. Sayer muttered, grinning.

"Biiiig white cock," the three black woman agreed, casting his white dong a lusty look before turning their backs again.

"My old husband was shaped like a banana," Detective McKenna told them. Her husband's illustrated size must have been impressive because Tam cooed.

"White boys be white boys," Tam said, laughing quietly. "The other patients wished they had a third of what he's packing."

"How many inches is he?" Detective Mac asked, hands in her pockets.

Tam turned to Dr. Sayer who chuckled before answering.

"Get this…" There was a silent drumroll. High expectations. "...fourteen inches."

Detective Mac raised her brows. "Jesus."

"That thing would not fit in my black ass," Tam remarked.

"That's over double my old husband," Detective McKenna exclaimed. She twisted her neck over her shoulder and saw the huge bulge of his cock through his gown. "I mean, it already was while soft but still. Sheesh."

"Half, huh?" Detective Mac took a second to compare, to measure, and astonishment flickered her features. "That isn't bad, you know. I haven't had a guy that large in my life. Not even close."

Detective McKenna raised a brow and snickered. "You haven't been with a skinny white guy, that's why."

The skinny white boy stereotype was...intriguing, to say the least. Unfortunately, he wasn't skinny enough to fit into that category.

"I don't judge based on race," the older detective responded flatly. "If they have a big dick, they have a big dick. And I have this, ah, let's say uncanny ability to see if someone is carrying a stick or a pipe. Before Mr. Reigner, I interviewed this Indian man with a, err, hot dog between his legs."

"Ooh, yes." Detective McKenna smirked and spoke mockingly. "Josie Mac's psychic abilities. Not only able to find lost objects but also see dick sizes. Whether they be sausages and needles, she can tell it all!"

While Aaron was tying the back knot of his gown, he saw Detective Mac's expression tremble. The beginnings of sweat emerged from her locs. He blinked and the momentary show of fear disappeared.

'The word psychic made her sweat.' He could see her temple shining with a drop. 'Don't tell me she's a metahuman…'

The tense woman coughed and responded much too quickly, "All I am saying is that they come in all shapes and sizes, regardless of race."

"Sure, sure." Detective McKenna put a hand on her shoulder which nearly made the braided woman jump. "Personally, I think white is bigger and better. My old white husband was better than all the black and brown guys I had been with."

The curly-haired detective slapped her shoulder a few times and chuckled, seemingly unaware of her senior's inner turmoil.

"What about you? Detective Tam? Dr. Sayer?" Detective Mac was subtly trying to shift the focus of the conversation. Away from her and towards literally anyone else.

"White boys be white boys," Tam repeated from before. "If it isn't snowing, I ain't going."

Laughter and ease. Aaron could see Josie Mac's shoulders relax. Her plan worked.

"I've mostly only dated Caucasians," Dr. Sayer admitted. "No real reason, it just lined up that way."

Detective McKenna had a glint in her eye. Aaron already knew what was coming. It was too easy.

"I guess you got a taste of the cockasian and couldn't look back."

The doctor blushed, cheeks and ears shifting colour. She coughed and stammered, "It…it's not like that. I, uh…"

"Big white cock be big white cock, I guess," Detective McKenna quipped, shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter.

Detective Mac decided she needed to add to the fire. "In the case of Mr. Reigner, it's the biggest cock period. Not just white or black or brown. Biggest cock, end of story."

The black women shared a hearty conversation, not noticing Aaron's dressed presence. And unfortunately the remaining three women did the same, too engrossed by the topic of his schlong. Although non-black, their conversation was just as horny and provoking.

"If my ex-husband had a thing like that between his legs, I never would have left." Detective Kasinsky sighed and cupped her cheek, seemingly dreaming. "As long as I had it, I'd go back home with the biggest smile."

Crystal nodded furiously in agreement. Aaron figured she was a widow but damn. Right now, she looked like the common Gotham whore.

"I would marry that cock if I could." Detective Bartlett was the individual voicing that confession, a surprise given her religious demeanour. Aaron thought she'd be above such things. Apparently not.

"I would too if I was twenty years younger," Dr. Thompkins admitted rambunctiously. "Ah. Youth. I pity and bless the woman who will deal with that bitch-breaker."

"Indeed," Detective Bartlett said. "I doubt it would fit me or you. Perhaps Kasinsky–"

"It would be my honour," the detective in question said, smiling broadly. She proceeded him to give Aaron fuck-me eyes. He refused to meet her lusty gaze. This did not want to make him fuck them. Their conversations, their words, it turned him on, yes, but it also tickled his moral compass and the sad reality of his blessings. It reinforced the stereotypes about women being obsessed with size and the cruelty of it. Was personality not enough? Was a big dick all that mattered?

'When can I go home?'