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Posts tagged “penis

The Downside of A Relationship

MOLESTO HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!!!

This is literally the saddest news for all the thousands (possibly hundreds, maybe tens, perhaps ones, but who’s counting?) of ladies that were salivating at the thought of getting some of this prime grade D. But it’s now reserved for a party of one. Sorry, y’all is too late!

Ouch! Businessman being dominated by woman in spike heels

She knows just how I like it

And with a girlfriend comes TONS OF SEX!!! LOADS OF IT!!! ON THE REGULAR! And warmth, love and companionship though why she wastes that on me I have no idea. She already got me with the first part, I wonder why she’s putting in the effort with all the rest. Anyway, SEXY SEX OF SEXTY!

But despite the state of my drained and shrivelled balls, a part of me still unsatisfied. You can only commit so many crimes against god, nature and physics with athletic sex. As all encompassing as her affection is, there are empty places in my heart that she cannot touch. It keeps me up at night trying to figure out what in could possibly be missing from what should be an ideal situation for this inappropriate toucher. Suddenly, with a crash like thunder I farted! After airing out my room, I finally figured out what I’d been missing. Or rather who. Palmela Handerson.

She had been with me for so long that a void was now left that a living, breathing partner could never replicate. Through my awkard teenage years, through my journey of discovery to even my coming into adulthood (a work that is vey much in its infancy), Palmela and her 5 sisters have seen me through the good times and the bad. They know my little quirks and ticks that only come with years of familiarity. Whenever my frustrations have built up, she has always been there with her crew to help relieve the pressue that has been building up inside. So many nostalgic days spent milking the one eyed snake, blowing the horn, choking the chicken, doing the five knuckle shuffle, beating the meat, tenderising the steak, giving me a low five, greasing the pipe, polishing the wood and evicting my testicular squatters.

Sure it was always rushed. Sure Palmela left me with a feeling of intense self-loathing and disgust. Sure she never really cared and was off as soon as the job was done. But she was there! And that’s what mattered. Now I can’t even think about now that I spend my days recovering in haze of post-sex dehydration. A man should not be reduced to living like this. It’s simply inhuman! But unfortunately, even Molesto has to bow down to societal demands at some point. Now it’s time to get and and do some stretches. Using a sex swing with meat hooks to do the reverse dragon dagger with an noose tightening incrementally is a lot more difficult than it sounds. Need to at least be warmed and limber for it.


Life With A Donated Member

A horrible accident saw me lose the most important limb I have, my penis. I will not go into any details but suffice to say, one should never be cheap and use knock-off lube that can pass convincingly as axle grease with one’s fleshlight, especially if it’s for a vigorous session.

But thanks to the miracle of science, all was not lost. Just to be clear, all the penis was lost, everything from the pelvis onwards. All of that gone! I was left looking like a mannequin with a pair of saggy balls for comedic effect.

Smoothness through horrible maiming

Smoothness through horrible maiming

Medical science has come a long way from the days of leeches and spells (MODERN medical science). I did not have to go through life with the humiliation of having to be the only chap to argue for leaving the toilet seat down. Because really!? Who can’t be bothered to take the single second to actually look to check the position of the toilet seat before getting down to business.

A radical new procedure, the penis transplant, meant that I was able to get a new lease on life. I could consider myself a man in all the relevant ways. I would only have to comprise in a few minor ways; length, girth and skin tone. Small sacrifices to still be able to have a penis.

Surprisingly, the concept of having a penis that was from a corpse was surprisingly easy to get used to. It’s amazing what the horror of having to live with no dick will do to your sense of perspective. Even the skin tone thing was pretty easy to get used to. Flashing it became an amusing party trick as no one could actually believe they saw a lightest-skinned cock on this darkest of dudes. It was hilarious. And it was more than once where I was propositioned by women looking to experience the cock to believe the story *wink wink, nudge nudge* i.e. white man meat from a black mandingo.

But these little things did not take the edge off the hardships of having a second hand sausage.

Masturbation was never the same. It never felt like I was pleasuring myself, more like a phantom handjob, and an amateurish one at that. The technique I had perfected since my teens was off thanks to the new thickness and length of the shaft and its different nerve endings. I always had to be conscious of the strokes or I would end up almost ripping my head of as I overshot. The natural grip I had was suddenly not right and it felt like I was jerking a disembodied penis that mysteriously made me orgasm.

The cock just never felt right.

The cock just never felt right.

Sex with the girlfriend was always awkward. After the initial new dick novelty wore off, she became uncomfortable with having the Frankenstein weiner all up in her. Blowjobs are at an end when you have to convince her that no really, it’s totally fine to have what was once a dead man’s schlong in your mouth, it’s not at all necrophilic. Sex became a dutiful chore that even a Puritan would deem it frigid. Of course the lack of release has made me more of an ornery bastard, which weird enough, is suddenly gaining me more female attention. Which just amps my need for release, making me more annoyed. It’s a vicious cycle.

Even months after the operation, a simple morning wee can end in disaster, with pee all over the floor, due to misjudgement of positioning and trajectory of the morning wood due to the foreign stiffy that is now attached to my body.

Deep down, I don’t think I will ever get accustomed to having a new tool to work with. But still, better used dick than no dick at all. A philosophy most women, gay dudes and, now one straight guy, can live by.