A RIC'ed masturbation "poem"

Here are you, my good buddy, who has been through thick and thin over the years with me. I feel you rockhard, throbbing in my Munsingwear Roos in my sweats early this Saturday morning before sunrise.

Don't you worry. We can have some fun, play some, or even alot. This is known as sexual play, a sexual sport found on the playing field in the privacy of my apartment.

You reassure me. You show your love for me as my best buddy because you make me glad that I am a man, that I can exult in my maleness. A maleness that goes back to early years of my boyhood, exulting in the presence of older males, actually grown men, so virile, so confident, I suppose all are so good in bed with their wives or interested women.

I was twelve years old at the time. My RIC'ed penis was becoming larger with each passing day as I entered adolescence as I began to sprout a pubic bush and the beginnings of a beard. Shaving didn't begin until a year or so later when it became a necessary ritual first thing in the morning each day.

Damn, twelve years old then, and I was getting these insistent erections. It was about the time I saw my dad's jockstrap for the first time. His jock pouch was HUGE. I got my first athletic supporter for gym then. The jock pouch supporting my genitals firmly also caressed my RIC'ed glans. The jock said, "Yeah, touch me here. Touch me "down there". I reveled in caressing my jock pouch, especially my glans being caressing by the poroknit pouch. So began my exploration of my manhood. Daily, insistent, filled with and emitted the most pleasureable sexual energy.

I even wrote a short poem: "Touch and feel your penis. Feel the sensational feeling". It was more an incantation, relentless, persistent. Unfortunately my mother discovered it and confronted me with it and tore up before my eyes, and said, "Don't you ever write this again!" Well mothers are mothers, but even she could not quench this current of sexual pleasure, coursing in my loins, in my RIC'ed penis, in my testicles, prostate, my entire sexual apparatus, in my burgeoning and blossoming adolescent body.

Well these touches and caresses, as I have said in previous posts, became more directed, more insistent, more focused. I learned, almost by instinct (since I didn't have an older brother or cousin or even uncle to instruct me) to stroke my penis. Not only did I focus on my adolescent tool between my legs, but I also fixed my attention upon athletic supporters and cups, and Munsingwear Kangaroo Pouch briefs, which I wanted even during those innocent years, but which during my college years were able to purchase as a young adult.

Sweet memories

Hi guys,

It is mid morning, Saturday on Labor Day Weekend, here in DC. We have today delightful late summertime weather with comfortable temps, blue skies, and low humidity. It is nearly three weeks away from the autumnal equinox. September has arrived and so have the college students for the fall semester at area universities.

I am fully clothed, ready to go out to run an important errand, namely pay my annual ISP membership. RCN's offices are within a comfortable walking distance from my apartment. I am wearing a pair of khaki walking shorts and a forest green Under Armour Heatgear Loose T-shirt. Under Armour!!! Yeah! That brand is guaranteed to light the fires of horniness in my loins, because hot guys from their youth to their old age wear that brand. Every time I don Under Armour I feel young, vigorous, and virile. Under Armour and activities like masturbation remind me in many ways that I am capable of surmounting life's challenges, including women in positions of authority in the world's workplaces.

But enough of such worries, especially the women! They will be dealt with at the proper time. Please forgive me of my overweening misogyny. Even though I seem to these women a milk toasty male, one to run rough shod over, I too am a red-blooded man. A man with an active penis and gonads fully wired and loaded, complete irrepressible testosterone, Glory Hallelujah!!!

Every man as he ages into middle age is constantly reminded happy times with his penis and two bros between his legs. Many of these memories go back to the earliest years of his boyhood, especially the glory days of his puberty and adolescence, when he discovers his rapidly changing and maturing body. These memories continue into his vigorous 20's and 30's. Mid-life crisis in his 40's causes a man to realize his mortality and his limitations. But if he remains healthy, his penis will nudge him in many ways each day and during each work day. Like so many men in their 40's or 50's, I have many responsibilities and worries, not to mention the adversarial environment of my workplace full of intrigue. The sexual hormones in my body accumulate to the extent that erotic thoughts and horniness occupy my consciousness, especially on weekends, when I am far away from my workplace.

The memories and those thoughts take over then. It is very easy each day to see beautiful specimens of masculinity. College students especially if they are upperclassmen, have a maturity that is irresistible. If they are Anglos, then many of them are circumcised. Mostly every workday, I wait for the bus outside the 7-Eleven in my neighborhood. There I encounter many blue-collar guys and tradesmen, who exhibit a raw masculinity, even though many of them may be flabby or out of shape. Such guys who turn me on there are white guys from the burbs or beyond the Beltway. Again many of them I bet are circumcised.

So these and other thoughts permeate my thoughts even on workdays when a masturbation session is not possible. But I save them up for a serious date with my best buddy generally on a Saturday.