Meet My Best Friend: My Cock!

This little tale is entirely true, including the bits about one of my inspirations, my friend Beth Taylor. Just thinking about that woman's cleavage makes me hard which brings me to my cock. Enjoy, and let me know what you think, too.

I cannot stop thinking about my cock. What a concept! A few weeks ago I took a picture of it it was beautiful and since then, I cannot get my mind off it. I don't mean I am obsessed with it, just that at least twenty times a day, I think about my cock: I think about what it looks like; what it feels like in my pants; how it hangs when I urinate; and what fun it is to have one of these things.

A few years ago, in conversation with a woman friend, the topic of owning a penis came up no pun intended. She marveled at how men were able to live with one of those dangly things. She asked, in fact, "how can you possibly have that loose there in your shorts? I could never imagine having one."

Naturally, we don't seem to have the same concerns, having grown up with it all our lives. It's just there. Then again, she did have a point. The penis mostly just hangs there, doesn't it? In my case, it is cradled in Jockey briefs, the ones with the soft cotton pouch, meaning it does not so much dangle as get held in place by the tight-fitting fabric. Having also experienced both boxers (too baggy), and going commando (too loose and free), I can say with confidence that my penis and I are happy with each other.

I differentiate between my cock and my penis, as you will have noticed. What is the difference, though? It would be nice to explain that my cock is only sexual, and my penis only biological, but that would not be accurate. Of course, cock is far more sexual, but sometimes I use the word more as a matter of pride in that appendage. Penis, on the other hand, is so nearly clinical that maybe it does only apply in that way. I wonder...

For anyone who has not seen my cock (this is definitely the right word here), I should probably describe it a bit. First, it is not a monster as so many of us men seem to think it should be. But neither is it an embarrassment in the size department men tend to focus pretty seriously on the size of these things, but most women seem to be much more appreciative of their function instead.

When it is soft, my penis (maybe soft means penis, and hard means cock?) measures as little as a inch when it has become "buried" from too much confinement, to maybe two inches at it's most comfortable. I know this because last week I lay it across a soft towel laid on my desk and measured it. Naturally, that much attention made it hard, so I got to measure it at its proud maximum expansion: about five inches.

That's about the length of it. But what about girth? Again, some men would have you think that they carry a Coke can in there, but in my case, I would have to say it is mostly well-proportioned with a nice shape and no one part domineering over the others. Just hanging there, it rests nicely across my balls, but more on them later. When it is hard, no matter how hard, my cock is pretty much line-straight, though it points up at about 60 degrees and slightly to the left at those times.

Like many North American men, probably most, I am circumcised. I have heard many of the debates about whether that is a good thing, or a bad one. Me? I don't really care. After all, I am not about to start trying to reverse the process. Like I said, I like my cock.

The head of my cock is soft, sensitive and loves a soft touch... a lubricated hand, even my own, feels amazing as it slides across the fleshiness of the head. Of course, the touch of lips or a wet tongue are even better, but that is not always an option, is it? My cockhead looks a lot like a little helmet. Sure, most of us look like that, but there sure are variations, aren't there. I remember seeing one photo of a cock that was capped by a most over-sized knob, it was as if there were a crab apple sitting atop a thick stick. (As an aside, it looked great, but that's another story.)

In my case, from its very tip, the head curves gently down, then in before it takes the leap off a thick crown which wraps around and caps the shaft. Centered on the top of the knob is my cock's little eye, often with a tear, or at least most of the time when I am staring into it. Pre-cum. Love it.

The shaft of my cock is certainly a fun place to play, too. The aforementioned oiled hand or lips are equally welcome, and appreciated. As you look down from the top, my cockshaft is crisscrossed with slight creases, not unlike wrinkles, but much more attractive. There is a thick vein running from the center of the base, along the back of my cock to a point about halfway on the left side. Here it disappears to the underside. When it is at its hardest, there are also several thick veins pressing to the surface as the shaft joins the underside of the cockhead. I can feel them pulse when it is like that. Love that, too.

From underneath, my cock provides an entirely different landscape. From the base extends a huge ridge all along the shaft, easily making up a third of the thickness. By the time it reaches the underside of the head, this thick, vein-rich ribbon has disappeared into the main part of the shaft, allowing the crown to stand triumphant.

The soft flesh of my ball sac is partially hidden under pubic hair (it's a medium reddish colour, in case you were curious). Admittedly, my pubic hair is pretty scraggly. In particular, it could use a bit more body, be softer and more manageable. But then again, maybe I will cut it all off one of these days? Then who cares?

Back to my balls. I can definitely say that rather than hanging loose as many would, for the most part my ball sac is snugly tight against my body. Maybe it's because I get hard so often that it doesn't know that it could be loose sometimes. Who's to say? Just to make sure I get it right, my left hand is gently squeezing my balls right now. That way, I can best describe their size (each about the same as my cockhead interesting) and their shape (like a rugby ball, I think, but much smaller, of course).

During the day I can usually count on at least eight or ten erections. Some of these are develop as I sit and enjoy a view: a deep cleavage accidentally presented by a woman picking up her keys; the tight, muscular buttocks of a woman on her way to the gym; a long pair of legs encased in nylon and disappearing beneath a pleasantly short skirt. All of these invite my cock to pay attention, and it does.

Sometimes that attention is only a stirring and adjustment, perhaps a half-hardon and no more. I can feel one now as I prepare this little story. It feels thick. That is the best description I can think of: thick! I can feel the head pulsing very slightly as the shaft fills slowly.

Other times, the reaction is both swifter, and more certain. A full erection barely pauses at the thickening. Rather, it is there all at once. Hard. Rock hard. That usually comes when I entertain the possibilities. Of course that means fantasizing about what might happen, or what did happen. This quality of erection is guaranteed when I visit with my friend, Beth Taylor. Yes, it is the Beth Taylor in my other stories. And yes, she did enjoy all those events, even if I did spice up a few of them with some bonus material.

Talking with Beth virtually guarantees that my cock will be hard if not all the time, at least most of the time. I have to move often, adjusting its position. In public that is even more difficult of course. Like most men, I think I have perfected the skill of cock-adjustment and can usually pull it off. What's tough, though, is leaving the table. The perennial challenge of all men: how to lose a hardon, or at least conceal it long enough to get to the bathroom. I don't have an answer.

Beth has wonderful cleavage. Best of all, she loves it when a man stares into it. In my case, I do so openly and appreciatively, but I have seen other men walk by our table an extra time or two, just to glance down into the crevice between her breasts. Lucky boobs.

But enough about why my cock gets so hard. What do we do for entertainment? In no particular order, the answer is fuck, jerk off, get sucked and licked, fuck again, and masturbate (quite a bit of that, actually). Lately, we have also become video camera fans. My cock especially likes to have its picture taken when it is steel-rod hard, not such a challenge, as you might imagine.

Not only are there still pictures in this story, but my cock has come to appreciate video, too. Turns out that the camera can take a pretty good bit of MPG video, as long as there is good light. A good work light and mini tripod are the perfect answer. Let me tell you about one recent video.

As I took a few new pictures, this time real closeups of the knob, shiny with massage oil, I couldn't help but give it a few strokes. I discovered that rather than easing my predicament, the handjob I was giving myself gave me a new idea: to try out the video capabilities of my little Sony digital camera. I had the work lamp hovering over my handful and the camera sat steadily on its tripod. Making sure everything was lined up, I hit the record button and brought my cock into the frame. I can assure you that it was as hard as it has ever been. Without even touching it I could feel a buildup of the excitement as it bobbed and jumped all on its own; the camera capturing all the excitement of this prelude.

Making sure I was always in the frame, I dropped a hand onto the well-oiled head of my cock and rubbed the slickness around and making it pulse firmly once more. Sliding my palm down the shaft pushed the head directly into view. I know all this because I have watched the video many times already.

As it has thousands of times, my hand took a firm hold of my cock, grasping it in just the right way to maximize the length of the strokes. A tentative and slow sliding motion pushed my hips forward, extending my cock to its maximum. There was little reason to delay now, but still I slid my grip slowly back and forth. This way, I rationalized, the camera could record exactly what was happening with the best possible picture I sure was not kidding. What an image!

It took only about ten long strokes for me to lose control. It was that quick. Good thing, too, since at the top quality, the memory stick fills up rapidly. Careful to aim to the side of the lens, I guided my hand hard along the shaft of my cock and pointed its gaping eye oh, god! Here it comes!!

The splash of cum shot forward all the way across the desk; then a second time; the third spurt was more of a strong dribble directly in view of the recorder. Watching the video later I realized how incredibly erotic seeing my own semen spurt strongly out of my cockhead was and knew I would want to share the experience with others.

Upon reading this, I hope you feel that you have met a new friend: my cock.