I feel horny.
Ok, there’s a degree to which that goes without saying, but what does that actually mean?
I looked the word up in the dictionary …

horny (adj) /ˈhɔː.ni/ – informal, sexually excited

Nothing ground breaking there, so maybe the question should be what does horny feel like?

I started writing this post, in my head at least, as I sat in the passenger seat of the car, on a long journey home. My mind wandered between the spread legs of a of exes and I found myself contemplating what it actually feels like for me. Today something reminded of it. I have a load of work to do over the next few days, so here I am, sat at my desk, feeling horny. Just like I did on that long journey home.

It’s a specific kind of horny too. Not the day-to-day feeling of being horny, not the I’ve-just-woken-up-with-a-boner horny, but something deeper.

For the most part it’s a kind of tension, starting in my forehead, just above my eyebrows. From there it works down along my nose, around my jaw line, and spreading down across my chest. There is, somewhat unsurprisingly, a slightly electric feeling around my nipples.

As the sensation passes down my body it’s a little like hunger. Like a void that needs filling. An emptiness. (Someone call Freud!)

And down across my (un-toned) abdomen, spreading my groin.
Obviously the sensation is getting a little more intense at this point, but not exponentially so.

Although not coiled to pounce, my thighs feel tight, as do my calves.

Up around my balls and cock, the same electric tingle as my nipples.
Back to my arse – possibly one of the most intense feelings, for which I have no words. (Freud could doubtless step in here, and he’d probably be right, to an extent.) Sometimes the sensation just stops there, pulsing around my sphincter.

Then something like an itch rises up the small of my back, round my sides and up to the nape of my neck.
Then an incomparable contraction within my skull.


A sensation like a wound spring, a heat, and an electric buzz, all at once. It’s like my neurons have been switched to run on a higher voltage: the nerves broadcasting signals are turned up to 11 and those that move muscles have an excess of charge stored in them, waiting to be forcibly injected into muscles, like cum into a pussy.

All to often, if no release is to be had, then comes the discomfort. Pain even.
I don’t mean to suggest this is normal, or unavoidable. With a few deft flicks (ok, more than just a few) and a draining of my balls, there is no need for them to hurt, but I’ve told you about blue balls before, Sympathetic Reader. It too starts as tension, though this starts in my ball sack, which all to quickly turns to discomfort. Dull at first, then getting sharper. This spreads upwards into my abdomen – a mixture of ache and nausea. It will spread round to my back, around my kidneys, and even up to my throat, all the time building in my loins and stomach. (You will doubtless be familiar with this sensation, Dear Male Reader, and it will always transport your mind back years or decades to the misplaced attention of a foot or knee in the school playground.)

All along, the crush within my head makes me want to fuck.

Of course, it’s entirely possible that this trail is the result of its own observation. Quantum arousal. Shrödinger’s Cunt, if you like. By expecting the sensation to follow such a precise route, my mind creates an irresistible path. I can’t say. But the passage is enough to be repeatable, and sensationally definite.

2 Responses to “Defined”

  1. Such a vivid description!

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