Penis: The True Story
By John Thursday • Jun 10th, 2009 • Category: Erotic Philosophy by John Thursday, FeaturesWhat’s it like to have a penis? I get asked that a lot, and not always by women.
There’s no single answer. My relationship with my dangling self, like all healthy relationships, has evolved over time. We have grown and changed together, staying up late, swapping stories.
I must say it is undeniably fun to have a penis. It’s like walking around with your own amusement park ride.
But the relationship is not entirely fluid. Having survived 34 years so far I can attest to three distinct phases; and so, three distinct rides.
The first phase is from birth to puberty. It is like the bumper cars. For something supposedly pleasurable it seems to hurt more than it should. And you often get stuck just banging yourself into the corner.
When you’re young you tend to hurt your penis. A lot. In fact, the penis will never be in as much danger as it is during the early years.
Bicycle seats, swinging your legs over the top of a fence, sitting down with too much enthusiasm, all of these daily activities leave one’s testicles in mortal peril. I fell split leg on a tree limb once. Then there are the various hard balls thrown or hit at tremendous velocities in supposed “games” which inevitably find their way to your little schmekel. And, of course, there’s the sheer unadulterated terror of learning to use a zipper.
It’s why all little boys wear tighty whities. Boxers are too careless.
Now there doesn’t seem to be much point to the bumper cars after you’ve smashed into a few people. In the early years masturbating is a similar exercise in futility.
It consists of a certain number of rubbings, hands, pillows, mattress’, carpets, couches, deck chairs, anything really. It feels good and it’s neat to watch a part of yourself get bigger.
But it always ends the same way, a sort of convulsive overload of too much pleasure with no outlet. You stop rubbing and try and catch your breath. But there’s no pay off. Imagine never getting to see the end of a movie and you get the idea.
The best part of having a penis in the first phase is far and away the long distance pee. The ability to make a leaf move, to watch the stream arc through the air, to fill the toilet with bubbles, these are the earliest manifestations of a man’s will.
The second phase, from puberty till around 27-years-old, is like the ride Free Fall.
It is a chaotic phase. It begins one random day with the typical rubbing. But suddenly you go higher then ever before, nearly six stories. There’s a moment of weightlessness, then the amazing rush of falling straight to the earth. The ride lasts six seconds. And the first thought in your head is, “Again!”
For the next 15 years this is pretty much the state of things for young men. We spend all day thinking about how to go up six stories just to feel the thrill of a six second drop. And then we want to do it all over again.
It’s the again part that has given this phase it’s golden hue. How older viagra-dependent men wax nostalgic for the days when they needed just a few minutes to recharge. But the golden hue is a myth.
The second phase is a horrible time. His penis enslaves the young man. I was a Hebrew slave making straw and mud bricks while my Egyptian penis sat fanned by a palm frond, eating dates, and cracking its whip.
Imagine someone always demanding you fast forward to watch the end of the movie and you get the idea.
Ladies, imagine if your breasts suddenly jumped two-cup sizes busting out of your bra and the only way to appease them was to go somewhere and rather violently rub your nipples. Imagine that happening five times a day. And imagine it happening heedless of social context.
“It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Mother of my Girlfriend. Please excuse me while I slip my penis under my waistband so I don’t poke you with it.”
Yes, somehow you have managed to get a girlfriend. You think it’s a season pass, that you can ride Free Fall whenever you want. But it’s not.
First she’s upset about the six-second drop. She wants to start out on the carousel, maybe make her way over to a gentle rollercoaster, finally ending up at Free Fall. And man, the rails on that rollercoaster are dry. And, this phase is best handled by three or four women. The demands are too much for one girl, much less a teenage girl.
So you’re always convincing and she’s always appeasing.
Unfortunately, men tend to marry the most appeasing girl they can find. They have little idea this phase is coming to an end.
One day, magically, you are set free. The third phase has begun, the age of the Flume.
It’s a beautiful phase. You have gained mastery of your penis. You tell it when to rise up and when to lie down. Your penis has become a glorious flume ride.
You rest comfortably in your log, sometimes alone, sometimes with one other person, sometimes with two or three, were all adults now.
You rise high above the park, but there’s no immediate drop. No dryness here, there’s plenty of water and you slip and slide along the path, sometimes rising up a bit, sometimes enjoying small drops.
You happily bang against the sides. And then, only after a lovely ride, you come crashing down in a burst of white foam. You rock gently in the water, panting, musing. If there’s anyone else in the log you take a moment to ask if they need to ride again. The circle catches you and you take your time stepping out of the log. You check out who else is riding the flume. You stretch and decide what ride to go on next.
Ah, the third phase. Still young enough to scoff at Cialis ads, but old enough to hold back when your baby needs that extra minute. Your physical feats are long past but you play a smarter game with feints and passes and teamwork.
I don’t know how long this phase lasts. I’m hoping at least another 10 years. But each phase seems wonderful at the time. That’s the beauty of having a penis. Even when it’s torturing you, you’d swear he was your best pal.
What else can I say about my penis? Some girls think he’s a dick, but I always have my best times with him.
John Thursday >>
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This is a fine piece of writing. So very true and exactly my attention span. Thank you Mr. Thursday!
You give a very clear descriptive on what it is like to have a Penis.I have always loved the word Penis rather, than cock or dick (I always giggle when I hear someone whose given name is dick, because I start visualize a rather rough looking Penis). Continue on with your wonderful outlook on sexual life.
Rubbing, eh?
Rubbing is something a circumcised man is forced to do. Poor souls have an incomplete penis.
excellent this is really good……….!
While I can’t attest to the accuracy of the piece, I found your post thoroughly enjoyable and enlightening. I don’t know why the penis is so mysterious, but I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have one. Now I know I just have to take a trip to an amusement park to find out.
“I was a Hebrew slave making straw and mud bricks while my Egyptian penis sat fanned by a palm frond, eating dates, and cracking its whip.”
Hilarious. The whole thing is so damn good. Thank you.
“imagine if your breasts suddenly jumped two-cup sizes busting out of your bra and the only way to appease them was to go somewhere and rather violently rub your nipples. Imagine that happening five times a day.”
That would be so cool! There would be so many fellas around to help with the rubbing bit. We girls are so lucky! And caught rubbing our own nipples? Never a problem.