What’s the hot, pulsing heart of homosexuality? The dick, of course, immortalised everywhere in Western culture from the tiny todger of Michalangelo’s David to the huge, killer erection that’s the Washington Monument! It’s not surprising – what else do we live, breathe and die for, if not the faintest chance of a ferocious orgasm daily?
And it’s that lust for cock – pleasuring our own, and anonymous others – that obsessively fuels all the lush, fevered imagery of gay art and literature. Peel back any flowery epigrams you like – Wilde, Orton or Firbank – and inevitably, you’ll find a pumping foreskin pleasuring those prissy, literary paragraphs!
Still – inexplicably in the West – we’re stunningly backward when it comes to accessorizing, or Christ forbid, pimping our utterly personal, slit-tipped, pride and joys. Why? Surely there’s an enormous, untapped market for male vajazzling, the peacock parading of outrageously customised cocks?
It’s way overdue. Who – no matter how high on smack, crystal meth, or raw, one-step-from blindness booze – is gonna freely choose a mind-numbingly lame, cookie-cutter circumcision? Fuck, if you’re willing to subject your nearest and queerest to decorative, salami-slicing, at least ensure the results are eye-catching!
I mean, get real – why settle for a dull, bog-standard trimmed dick, the genital equivalent of über-dull Laura Ashley decor? Frankly, the only possible justification for circumcision is hygiene, but truly, anyone uncut just has to peel back and scrub!
Mercifully, they’re far less blinkered in Japan, and – genitally speaking, at least – think way outside crushingly guilt-tripped, religious mutilation. Welcome to the gorgeous, almost unbearably pleasurable practice of ‘Pearling’, originating in Yakuza gangster notions of ecstasy through pain! Oh, it’s nothing too extreme – merely shoving pearls or jewels under the foreskin and stitching them in place, then embossing your dick cookie-cutter style!
Tempted? Wouldn’t you love having your weiner ribbon-stripped, and studding the remainder with ultra-tacky diamonds and a winking ruby glinting in the tip? Believe it, there’s no limit to the erotic, exotic and sexually despotic – take this, bitch! – possibilities of a decorated, dangerous dick! Just think – shouldn’t a wank be a tactile orgy, like a blind queen delightedly feeling Braille obscenities on an offered, embossed cock?
So, which would you rather be? Halfcocked or cocksure? Face it, arguably, circumcised cocks take forever to squirt, and necessarily, they’re far less sensitive than dicks left in their original wrapping! Jesus, if you were the ultra-sensitive head of an exposed cock, wouldn’t you dial back the tender, cheese-grating torments of being rubbed on denim and Calvin Kleins 24-7?
Look, me, I’ve sucked, swallowed and vacuumed innumerable dicks, and cut cocks are so desensitised even a loving, blood-drawing bite barely registers! Worse still, they’re unforgivably bland to look at – who wants to watch a pale noodle violating your ass on the over-bed mirror? So please, never flash some dumb, laughably fleshy tube that’s indistinguishable from a prolapsed anus in my direction – give me a criminally vulgar penis, everytime!
I’m sure I won’t have long to wait. With the spurting growth of sexual technology – everything from dildonics to remote control, anal love eggs – every possible perversion will be a pop-up pleasure option. And, inevitably, star brand-names will saturate the kinky-as-fuck market, with hopefully, a revitalised John Galliano launching swaggering penis drag to kill for!
Sceptical? Don’t be – already, dick girth and length enhancements are routine, and who wouldn’t love to drop his pants and reveal some baroque, prosthetic glory to his mesmerised shag? Me, I’m frantically saving for a full, future Mapplethorpe – I want what’s left of my dick sexually bonsai’d into a fleshy bull-whip! That way, I can beat myself – and my partners – into sexual frenzy every time!
• Comments or feedback? Email [email protected]
