I recently received a couple of compliments on the fauxskin photos in my LPSG galleries. Though we all enjoy praise and appreciation, even if undeserved, I think the people who bestowed their kind words weren't taken in by my trick. When my penis is relaxed I can envelop the head as if it were appealingly uncut. I'm not trying to undo what I am, but I can understand the fascination with a cock in its original condition (though why they want to make laws about this is beyond me, and also beyond the scope of this essay).
When I was a little boy my best friend Ronald and I liked to ride our bikes and fly kites and play board games and do all the things little boys like to do. Of course that includes, if no one was watching, showing each other our pee-pees. So we had to notice that our penises looked different: his tapered to a point with cute little wrinkles but mine was just sort of round. I thought Ronald was “fancy” while I was plain (the fact that I saw mine all the time could have made me think that). One day Ronald remarked that his father's looked like his and I said that mine also looked like my father's. (Our families didn't practice nudism, but such a glimpse wasn't unusual). That's when I figured it all out: it was heredity. Boys were supposed to look like their dads. I was just a child of six or seven but I had learned something about heredity and I remember feeling very intelligent knowing why Ronald and I were different.
At some point I also learned that when I was a little baby a circus-ishin was done to my penis and it was something that involved a knife. What could that have been? It was supposedly done to make you healthy and so I figured that's why the doctor cut that little slit that I pissed through. You wouldn't be very healthy if you couldn't pee, so I was glad it was done to me – and also, obviously, to Ronald too even if when he peed it looked like water coming out of a garden hose.
My curiosity about plain and fancy peenies was jolted one day at a cookout. One of the older boys was wearing a loose set of shorts and sitting on a log. I could see right up his leg and he had a fancy cock like Ronald. That was the extent of my observation until I glanced back a minute later and saw his penis again, but now it looked like mine! What's going on? Does that guy have two cocks? Since I couldn't just ask him there it puzzled me for some time.
Of course I finally learned what was going on in other guys' breeches, from my pal Ritchie's “3-5-3-5” jokes and Reggie, who would retract his foreskin while voicing appropriate sound effects. Cut vs. uncut issues seem to grow large here with questions of aesthetics, human rights and the simple fact that some guys still have one more part to play with.
O===w
When I was a little boy my best friend Ronald and I liked to ride our bikes and fly kites and play board games and do all the things little boys like to do. Of course that includes, if no one was watching, showing each other our pee-pees. So we had to notice that our penises looked different: his tapered to a point with cute little wrinkles but mine was just sort of round. I thought Ronald was “fancy” while I was plain (the fact that I saw mine all the time could have made me think that). One day Ronald remarked that his father's looked like his and I said that mine also looked like my father's. (Our families didn't practice nudism, but such a glimpse wasn't unusual). That's when I figured it all out: it was heredity. Boys were supposed to look like their dads. I was just a child of six or seven but I had learned something about heredity and I remember feeling very intelligent knowing why Ronald and I were different.
At some point I also learned that when I was a little baby a circus-ishin was done to my penis and it was something that involved a knife. What could that have been? It was supposedly done to make you healthy and so I figured that's why the doctor cut that little slit that I pissed through. You wouldn't be very healthy if you couldn't pee, so I was glad it was done to me – and also, obviously, to Ronald too even if when he peed it looked like water coming out of a garden hose.
My curiosity about plain and fancy peenies was jolted one day at a cookout. One of the older boys was wearing a loose set of shorts and sitting on a log. I could see right up his leg and he had a fancy cock like Ronald. That was the extent of my observation until I glanced back a minute later and saw his penis again, but now it looked like mine! What's going on? Does that guy have two cocks? Since I couldn't just ask him there it puzzled me for some time.
Of course I finally learned what was going on in other guys' breeches, from my pal Ritchie's “3-5-3-5” jokes and Reggie, who would retract his foreskin while voicing appropriate sound effects. Cut vs. uncut issues seem to grow large here with questions of aesthetics, human rights and the simple fact that some guys still have one more part to play with.
O===w
