[I just want to preface my remarks today by mentioning the unfortunate pager attack on young men in Lebanon recently, apparently initiated by the IDF. The attack was designed to blow off the testicles of reservists in the Hezbollah militia movement. My totally non-political message is this: both Jewish and Muslim men are my brothers, and they are the ones who gave the world the beautiful gift of circumcision. To me, a man is not naked unless he is circumcised- there is a kind of vulnerability in having a circumcised and fully exposed glans. I am happy to live in America, where this beautiful Semitic practice is widely applied. Please, my brothers, stop fighting. And do not harm each other’s genitals. I love your beautiful circumcision. I love your balls.]
BASKETS AND BALLS IN THE SHOWER
A while back I attended an “exhibition” basketball game at my college. The other team, from far-away Minnesota, played well and beat our boys in all three periods. Of all the different sports teams I see in the showers, I find basketball boys among my very favorites. They’re big guys- tall and lanky on the court, and elephantine in the showers.
The first boy I saw in the shower was a little nervous, and chose a stall with a frayed curtain that would only close halfway. His name’s Kyle. He saw me staring and tried to close the curtain all the way but gave up. Our eyes met. He resigned himself to letting me chart the swing and trajectory of his schlong! The kid was a Freshman, six foot seven and blond, a little gangly and awkward. That bumbling gait was offset by his beautiful manhood- magnificent even among basketball boys- jutting over a large scrotum. For all his size, I’m sure he’s a grower. When erect, he’s a second colossus of Rhodes.
I wanted to cup his balls. I wanted to tweak his glans.
When he turned around, modestly hiding his frontal masculinity, I was treated to a view of his sculpted buttocks. I love the big, beautiful butts of basketball guys. He had a little baby fat on his ass. That’s normal for nineteen-year-olds.
Papa Bear wanted to drill for oil in the fertile space between his cheeks!
After the rest of his team joined us in the shower, he started to relax a little. He even fondled himself a couple of times.
He’s a daring shooter; he helped his team win by scoring lots of three point shots. In bed, I see him as a gentle giant, but he knows when it’s time to kick into high gear!
This boy has no problems in his love life!
I saw another boy enter, almost as tall as Kyle. I think his name’s Carter. He had more of a Mediterranean aspect, medium dark brown hair, olive-colored skin. Great abs and chest definition. Generously endowed in the penis, broad and blunt, a nice mushroom cap. His virility was underscored by his balls. Carter was a year older and a little more relaxed in the shower than Kyle. Moved with the confidence and easy grace of a ladies’ man.
A third kid that I remember- close cropped blond hair, almost a crew cut. Somewhat shorter than Kyle and Carter, but muscular. His penis was on the smaller side, but nice firm butt cheeks. Peach fuzz on his ass. His name’s Devon. He started rapping! He slapped the wall and soap dispenser, and stamped his feet as he free-styled, slinging rhymes. He shouted out the spontaneous phrases and sometimes his teammates completed them. This went on for the entire length of his shower! All his teammates laughed.
I asked him, when he was finished, what he thought about our home team. After all, they had beaten us.
He said, “Dey’s solid!”
I didn’t understand him at first, and then I realised he was speaking Ebonics!
They are solid, he was saying, in ghetto-talk.
Devon’s a white boy who wants to be Black.
I wonder if he’ll shout Ebonics when I’m pumping his Pilsbury Dough Boy white ass!
Such beautiful specimens. Once again, basketball boys are among my favorite athletes to observe in the shower. They are affable and gentle oafs.
THE FAKE BRIT
Sometimes when I see college boys in the shower I feel that their behavior, naked under the showerhead, gives me a kind of Rosetta stone to their psychological makeup- who they are.
Once I took a shower with a history major named Brian, who had an enormous penis and also an affected British accent. He’s from Detroit. He kept saying things like “innit” and “there we ah then” in affected phony British English. I told him he has a pronounced British accent for an American and he said in his twee accent “I’ve ‘eard that!”
He also wouldn’t leave his penis alone for a single second. He made a succession of loose fists around the shaft and ran his penis through the gauntlet of his lightly clenched fingers- seven or eight times.
I think affecting a foreign accent is a sign of insecurity. He feels he doesn’t measure up. He played slinky with his penis in another ploy to get attention, but this also underlines his lack of self-esteem. I think he’s a nervous lover- for all his indisputable ambition and intelligence, and his impressive endowment, I think his insecurities come to the fore in bed. He might struggle to sustain an erection and his performance might be hampered by his self-doubt or need to project confidence and bravado that he doesn’t actually have. It would be good for his partner to stroke the underside of his penis- from the balls all the way to the delicate circumcision scar. She should find a rhythm and just stick with it. He can tell her when he’s getting too close to climax and she can continue stroking at a slower pace. This might help him to relax into himself. He doesn’t have to affect a foreign accent to be loved. And by overcoming his insecurity, Brian can get hard, stay hard, and get the job done!
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MAN OF THE WEEK
Yesterday I was walking past the showers, when I saw a husky, broad-shouldered kid enter. When he dropped his towel, I saw his hairy back and butt cheeks and I rushed to my locker to undress. I joined him a minute later.
A five-foot eleven dark-haired boy, he faced slightly away from me but made no attempt to hide his penis. He had just a modest amount of chest hair- but still more than most college guys, concentrated mostly around his sternum, complemented by coarse hair around his lower abdomen. Strong, well-muscled, with a little layer of fat that just covered his abs. Bushy eyebrows and expressive dark eyes. Handsome and studious, perennial five o’clock shadow. He told me his name was Tom. He played lacrosse in high school. That made sense- he has the body of a lacrosse player. He’s studying physics. I recommended to him some books I like- biographies of the famous physicists. We spoke about Dirac, Godel, Heisenberg, Bohr, and other great men of science. He listened intently.
It's funny how people’s pets often end up looking like their owners. It’s a sign of their mutual love and companionship. In the same way, I think college guys have a similar relationship to their penises. Tom and Tom’s penis were alike muscular, broad and blunt, thoughtful and dynamic.
I noticed that the doctor who had circumcised him left him a little flap of foreskin just underneath the glans, giving his penis a double chin!
I kept getting an erection which I tried unsuccessfully to suppress, so I just tried to hide it, variously with my hand and with my toiletry kit.
Our conversation shifted and Tom asked me for advice on writing his graduate admission essay. As we spoke, he kept drying his penis off, even though he had already toweled his groin a few times. He flattened his penis against his left thigh, and then his right thigh. That made its double chin shake!
I wanted to take him in my mouth so badly. My tongue wanted to limn that sensitive little nugget of flesh that survived his circumcision. Afterwards, I would apply some more saliva to his glans and trace patterns on it with my fingers. He played lacrosse in high school, but he also had an academic career in football. I’ll make this offensive lineman cross the fifty yard line of moans!
It’s interesting- he was flopping his penis from side to side, and my penis was bobbing up and up. It’s as if our penises were engaged in some kind of dialogue- the young penis asking questions, and the older one nodding in approval. When a young guy flops his penis around while talking to someone, it’s usually a sign of trust and friendship. I was honored.
I noticed from Tom’s conversation that he was courteous, engaging, and a little starved for positive affirmation- also maybe a little lonely. I think the fact that he flopped his penis around so many times, even after he had already dried it, may give us some insight into his sexual behavior. My own feeling about his bedroom style is that he’s a thorough, pensive lover, who takes his time in sex. His lovemaking builds to a steady, satisfying crescendo. But he may punctuate it, or preface it, with three or four false climaxes. This is called “edging” in contemporary erotic lingo, but I don’t think he does it on purpose. I think he just wants to get it “right” and find the right moment. He might pull himself back from the brink if he feels he can continue a little longer with the same pace. When Tom knows ejaculation is inevitable, he gives it his all.
Tom seems really nervous about applying to grad school. But he has a beautiful endowment and a beautiful heart. He’s better than any school- he’s a student of life, and a future professor of love.
I am happy to confer on him the title of “Man of the Week”.
Hot diggety dog, Tom! You’ve arrived!
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WRESTLER’S REAR
The last boy I saw yesterday was a 125 lb wrestler named Lane. 125 is the lowest weight class in college wrestling, but this guy is a king in the shower. He walked to the shower with a green towel that he held modestly over his groin. A determined look on his face. At the same time, as he was walking, modesty had to yield to his need to fondle himself a little. He faced the wall most of the time, so I only got a couple side views of his penis. A good one. A big head. Maybe just a little bit of morning wood. It’s funny that he faced the wall out of politeness, because he had one of the cutest butts I’ve seen in a long time. A wrestler’s ass- chiseled and fine. A surprisingly wide and hairy crack. I felt it was inviting me. It’s funny how college guys often try desperately to hide their ding-a-lings in the shower but are fine leaving their butts exposed. But for gay men like me, their perfect, Olympic asses offer plenty of fodder to the loving imagination. After the shower, he came up to me in the locker room and told me he recognized me from a lecture on anthropology I gave a month ago. I was surprised he remembered! He was eager to hear more on the subject so we spoke for a little while. He has bright green eyes, a crooked little nose and a quick smile. I wanted to take him onto the mat and show him a whole new level of submission.
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Thank you, my boys, my college boys. Your simple bodies naked are the highest eloquence.
