Jan 162013
 

Often, people say, “I could never meditate; I can’t clear my mind, I can’t stop thinking.” To my knowledge, meditation has nothing to do with either clearing the mind or stopping thinking.

There are a number of ways of meditating. The two most well known Buddhist forms of meditation are concentration, or shamatha, and mindfulness, or vipassana. I’m no teacher, but, to simplify, in concentration meditation, you focus all your attention on one thing – a mantra, a flame, your breath – and use all your mental resources to stay focused there. This form of meditation has the nice benefit of frequently producing euphoric states.

Mindfulness meditation (the form I practice most often) is a little more… relaxed. While you may choose an object of concentration, such as the breath, rather than “try to concentrate” on it, you pay close attention to just what it is that happens when you concentrate on it. Do you find yourself fantasizing about sex? You notice that, pulling half a step back from the fantasy, and just noticing, “Ah, I’m fantasizing.” Are you planning dinner? You stop planning and notice, “Ah, I’m planning dinner.”

Tonight, I meditated, for just five minutes, on my cock. This was a sort of hybrid of concentration and mindfulness: I focused all my mental energies on that one part of my body. If I found myself thinking about something else, I gently returned my attention to my cock. But I was mindful, paying close attention to the myriad sensations there, even as I lay still, on my bed.

What did I feel? (It’s been a day of not insignificant arousal, but no sex, as yet.)

If I start at the lowest point, deep in my balls, I felt something akin to a low, steady, warm, ache. Not pain, exactly, but the sensation almost of a lack, of something missing, and achingly so. What was the lack? I’m not sure – maybe simply a desire to be held, gently?

And then, up… to the base of my cock. There, I felt less of the heat in my balls. Still warm – room temperature, rather – but no ache, and the heat was less intense. What I really felt was almost an inverse ticklishness, a sort of hunger to be lightly touched. This is a difficult sensation to describe in words, because it’s not one for which I think we have words, but it’s like a sensory appetite. The base of my cock simply wanted a finger, or two, to stroke it, gently.

Further up, to the shaft. The temperature is cooling, the shaft is now affirmatively cool (I was naked). And where the base of the shaft was hungry to be touched gently, the shaft proper was hungry to be squeezed. It almost felt a little expansive, disorganized, as if the imposition of the order of a tightly gripping fist would make things right, rein it in, and warm it up.

And finally, the head. Here, it felt actually, affirmatively, cold. And the sensory hunger was the greatest, and the most ineffable. It wanted everything the other parts of my cock wanted – to be simply held, like my balls; to be caressed, lightly, like the base of the shaft; to be squeezed, like the shaft itself; and to be pressed, swirled, like no other part of the cock.

These are the sensations in my cock when gently aroused, but not hard, at the end of a day.

Tell me about yours, about your cock, about your pussy.

What does it feel like?

  3 Responses to “Meditation on my cock”

  1. Well, then…I like your kind of meditation. And, quite honestly, I appreciate your metacognitive approach to it…and your specific, detailed explanation. From a woman’s standpoint, I am fascinated by the male body. The more I can learn, the more appreciative of it I become. So thank you. You have quite certainly turned me on with your intelligent description. I may just have to meditate on my pussy tonight.

  2. my pussy feels cold tonight. i admire your dedication and concentration!

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