My cock

My cock speaks to me. I don’t always do what it says, but I always listen.

My cock is hungry, and there’s no word for the sensation — not quite an ache, not quite an itch, not quite restlessness, but something insistent and entirely its own.

An honest, detailed account of my cock — its size, its curve, its virtues, and what I’ve come to understand about all of the above.

My cock is hard, and what it wants might surprise you.

A woman on Tinder appreciates my… specificity.

Sometimes all I want is to be hard — not to connect, not to come, but to counter a deadness deep within me with the undeniable sensation of being alive.

My cock is small. This used to torment me, but now I write about it on the internet, which turns out to be a pretty effective cure.

My surprising strategy to fend off fears of death – mine or others – is to feel my cock grow hard.

There’s lots going on, most of it not good. But my cock is hard.

A somewhat detailed description of how I get myself off. And, a picture of my cock. (A first!)