the penis

Last night at a street fair I saw a couple eating chocolate coated bananas on a stick and that got me thinking about the penis. This proud symbol of our greatest pleasure has been getting attention ever since a caveman shaped a pole and stuck it between two stones and liked what he saw. Obelisks littered Rome, sprouted in the kingdoms of the Middle East, and penis totems were worshipped by tribes around the world to assure a next generation of virile men. With the penis well established in history I want to talk about its place in our pants.
We handle our dick as if it was separate and independent from the rest of our body. We tug it for reassurance. When it stands up on its own without our permission we shove it down and lodge it in our underwear hoping it stays there. We’re embarrassed when we sprout a boner in public because we’re taught anything sexual is immoral or at least best kept out of sight. But we should be gentle with our friend and settle him to one side of our briefs where he will be comfortable and resting tumescent. I’m not talking about flashing because most flashers have little worth flashing, and because they do it to frighten people not entice them. There is no reason we should hide our penis and let others see it up or down because it’s quite a handsome piece of flesh. Each has its own majesty; its own bent and special talents. It’s as much a part of our identity as our eye color or propensity to gain weight. We should treat your dick as we treat a loyal friend who doesn’t always do what we expect and sometimes refuses our entreaties. Your hairy joint needs rest but he also needs recreation and few good pulls with a bit of hand cream after your evening shower.. Or do it in front of a mirror as he swells and if you don’t close your eyes you can watch it pump out thick whiteness, gooey spurt by spurt. If he’s rigid when you wake up, take a few minutes to look at him, what is he telling you as he vibrates or snakes his way down your leg? Maybe he wants to play hide and seek in your underwear or go topless in the kitchen. Pay attention because he wants to be recognized just like the rest of us. He also needs fresh air so let him hang free when you’re walking around the yard or take him for a hike where he can wave at the butterflies and kiss the ferns. Jog for a bit to let him flop around unless he’s really liking it, then you can use him as a rudder with you stop to jump in a creek. Give him a couple underwear-free days every now and then, and if you’re at the beach and putting on sun screen to protect him from UV rays but don’t miss the opportunity use its slickness to let him know much you like him.
Some want us to believe penises are dirty, which they aren’t but good hygiene is important. Give him a good shower or a long hot bath and peel back his overcoat if he has one. Savor the wrinkles of flesh when he’s at rest and watch them stretch to accommodate excited blood. Never insult your penis. First, it’s the only one you’ve got, and it’s going to be with you the rest of your life. Second, if you think of him as a pipsqueak or a fat slob, he’ll be in no mood to please you. And don’t be afraid to slap his shaft, not to damage it but to tease the tissues. If he likes it, slap him again, slap him harder. Sometimes that will take him all the way to ecstasy. Pills and pumps can make him bigger temporarily but be careful not to break any of his blood vessels in the process because don’t want to end up with a guitar without strings. The big guy in your crotch is versatile; he can make music to relax you into sleep or pep you up for a night out. He can let another man know you like him without saying a word. Reserve a special place for him in your pants; don’t just leave him hanging. The English tradition of dressing right comes from a time when English gentlemen wore a Prince Albert and tied their dick to a garter on the right thigh to keep it from hanging hungrily down one leg. Keep your GI Joe comfortable and be careful sitting so that you’re not pinching his back or sitting on his face.
I don’t want to forget the penis’s cousins that hang below him. Testicles is a curious word that I thought were parts of a Victorian tea service. “Could you pass the crumpets and testicles, please?” Our balls are one of the best play things in a man’s body. These two little globes produce tasty juice for some and make children for others. They have different personalities, and each wants its own place in your crotch. The first rule is to let them hang and giving them plenty of room. Pulling them up in bikini briefs not only looks sophomoric but limits the air and freedom your balls need to protect your genetic code. Let them dance, and use a mirror to watch them because they’re interesting characters. More than swollen glands these seemingly fragile lanterns love some attention. Don’t scrub them but wash them thoroughly and dry them with a fluffy towel. Tease them with a feather or pat them with your fingers or harder with a wooden spoon. Pay attention to how they respond and be surprised when they like it more than you expected. Some may not like being handled and what I’m talking about is not a test, there are no scores for heavy beatings; it’s about pleasure to be felt in the moment not an ache you’ll remember for days. Always leave them wanting more by starting slow to develop a rhythm and build from there. They can be teenagers who like to roughhouse so roll them together in your hand, push them against each other and stretch them out one at a time. Measure their enjoyment by the sounds of your moan. You can have a boisterous climax but start with a steady rhythm and let your boys conduct the music. If they’re ready for a lot, go there, but jerking on the family jewels is like skidding a needle across an LP. Going slow is the scenic route to Paradise.
That completes our tour of crotch. So, be respectful of all that hangs between your legs; play with them and you’ll have fun.


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