Self appreciation

As I sat spinning the cogs of untaxing work, my mind inevitably wandered off to the sticky back streets of the debauched red light district in my head. By way of a small diversion, rather than a cigarette-break, or a screen-break, an hour or so earlier I had had a sex-blog break. (Combined with pretty satisfyling cum-break.) Amongst the smut I invoked upon my computer screen, two particular things piqued my interest.


The first was a blog that discussed a sculpture of a nude male figure, but one devoid of genitals. As irrational as it was, I felt sorry for the little clay man. Or rather the little clay almost-a-man.

Then I found myself looking at the reader stats for my blog, and noticed someone had come to my pages via a link on Eyes On The Prize. I was curious to see the context so went for a look. I never found a reference to my own blog, but I did find some gloriously horny pictures. One in particular caught my attention – a cinemagraph that showed an erect cock repeatedly sliding through the hand of a naked woman. Whilst it was definitely on the pornographic side of erotica, there was also a beauty to the image. Especially, I found, to the thrusting member. (Whilst my interest in gay sex is pretty limited, and I don’t find men even remotely attractive in a romantic sense, I can sometimes get turned on by depictions of male nudity and genitalia, almost as much as female.)

The animated picture, and thought of the emasculated figurine, got me thinking about my own dick. About my feelings towards it.

It’s a common question – what’s your favorite part of your body? – and to a degree it would almost be too easy to say my penis. But the truth is, I think it probably is these days. Having been a competitive swimmer in the past, I used to be really quite proud of my shoulders. I was once informed that the girls in a clique to which I belonged had voted mine the sexiest male arse amongst our number. And again through sport, I have always had relatively muscular thighs, of which I have been far from ashamed. But more than any of these, I most like the lump of gristle that intermittently hangs from my groin.

There are so many things I love about it …

I love how it looks. From pretty much any angle (and with the aid of mirrors and ex-girlfriends wielding video and stills cameras, I’ve seen it from almost every direction imaginable). It doesn’t matter whether it is erect or flaccid, ready for action or spent, whether my helmet is hooded or revealed, I love it’s aesthetics just the same.
(Admitedly, when I am cold, as my body withdraws blood from all extremities, and my manhood appears to shrivel away, then it does not look remotely so attractive, but rubbing some warmth into it always restores its beauty.)

I love the veins that decorate its surface. Especially the thick shadow that curves along its upper surface and the keel like ridge of the urethra.

I love the patina of my glans. Even when dry, it has a gentle sheen, with just a hint of texture. And it’s shape – from certain angles almost like an arrow head, indicating its intended direction.

I love how my member fits perfectly in my grip … or perhaps how my grip fits perfectly around my member. I love how, when lying in bed, the most natural and convenient place for my hand to rest is around my cock.

I love the soft, velvety, elastic skin. How it adjusts as my tool swells and relaxes. How is glides over the turgid rod within when I wank.

I love how its size increases, slowly but deliberately (it’s a grower not a shower), rising steadily upward, as its nonchalant hang giving way to an turgid salute.

I love my shaft’s hardness, the sensation of being swollen.

I love the miriad ways I can play with it to cloud my mind with endorphins.

I love my foreskin, the and the oh so sensative surfaces revealed when I pull it back. And that exquisite stretch when I tug on it really hard.

I love the responsiveness of my dick. How it twitches when stroked. How my PC muscle flexes between my balls and arsehole, with the merest squeeze of my tip. And how my pole periodically lifts the tent of the bed-clothes with nothing more than the thought of plunging it deep into a hot, wet pussy.


I love its reliability; that it is all but guaranteed to be up before I am in the morning. And I love how it is invariably erect if I wake in the middle of the night.

I love how pre-cum oozes and drips from its meatus when I’m even partially aroused, and how even a small dribble lubricates the entire head.

I love the fire that burns along my shaft when I expel jets of hot, salty joy, especially if I’ve had to hold back my orgasm.

I love the unadulterated pleasure it gives me, and the pleasure I seem to have been able to give women … with it’s assistance.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it is a perfect prick: I have not hidden from you, Dear Reader, that just like many men I’d like my cock to be a little bigger. It’s not small at around 5½ inches both in length and girth … it’s no 12″ cunt splitting monster … and I’m not greedy … just another couple of inches in length to fascinate my partners, and an inch or so of girth to stretch their pussies just a little bit wider.

Nor am I obsessed by my dick. It does not define me. But my relationship is very much like an illicit love affair, or maybe a fuck budy, with moments of passion and lust stolen at every opportunity. It is this man’s best friend.

27 Responses to “Self appreciation”

  1. still waiting for a model for my dick-less man…
    the next one has a little lump, as a sort of token gesture to his manhood

  2. CaptKitty Says:

    You should make a dildo replica of your cock and sell it. From what you’ve described, I’m sure the sales will go through the roof.

    • Somewhere out in ex-girlfriend-land there used to be an AM shaped vibrator. With any luck it still exists, and I really hope her current S.O. doesn’t mind her fucking herself with me. Of maybe he even fucks her with me and doesn’t know it. Now that would be a giggle.

  3. I have never read a post like this – I wonder if many guys have done so much reflection on exactly why they like their cocks. Yours sounds quite nice. 😉

  4. I would like to appreciate my own parts like you appreciate yours AM! The patina sounds lovely and as far as I’m concerned, size is less important than intent and you have got a LOT of intent. 🙂


  5. SHIT AM! – Reading your very intelligently descriptive and articulate words 1-13 had ME loving your penis.

    ” the thick shadow that curves along its upper surface and the keel like ridge of the urethra.” splendid imagery AM!!! and that was just the beginning! I hope you don’t mind me reblogging this. I do need to share the Love of Penis or rather HOW you have SO ELOQUENTLY did here.

    • I’m flattered you liked it enough to reblog. (And by it, obviously I mean my post … not my pillar.)

    • You are the first man to ever cause me to have penis envy. Honestly – you are an excellent writer, in my very humble opinion. Your breadth of descriptive terms and scope of adjectives in this writing was adventurous and exciting to merely read – forget imagine! It happened to be about your pillar, but really, I saw your appreciation for a part of yourself and your body, that you love in it’s abilities, form, and usage in expressing who you are inside. In other words – fucken sexy AM! Jayne

    • It’s a long time since anyone called me anything remotely like fucken sexy. Not only does that swell my organ, but also my ego. Inevitably the passing of that respective decade also saddens me more than a little. But hey – ying and yang.

  6. Reblogged this on Diary Incarnate • Jayne Ayres and commented:
    Ladies and Gentlmen, I present Accidental Masturbator’s articulate and eloquent words. I believe I now have penis-envy!

  7. I can see why my post made you think of this. Though I’m not sure mine is nearly as well written as yours.
    Obviously, I can’t comment on how it feels, but as for looks… well, I have only recently seen the Members Only pages, but even if I hadn’t, this post would have given me a pretty good idea of what your cock looks like. I love that the MO pages depict almost every item you mentioned here : the veins that decorate its surface, the patina on your glans as well as the arrow-like shape, how it fits your grip, how its size increases (though you cheated a bit, but “faute avouée à moité pardonnée”), oozes an drips… [that’s just to wet everyone’s appetite who hasn’t seen those pages…]
    As Dawn from pivoine68 said above, I agree that size is not necessarily the most important (though I don’t have that much experience). A story I read not long ago seems to sum up my view on this quite nicely. I don’t know exactly how much French you read, but I can certainly find the link if you do.
    Also, like Dawn, I too would like to appreciate my own parts as well as you do. Though I guess for women, it’s slightly harder since we don’t get to see them quite as easily…

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