Taking it like a man

Yesterday evening I was restless. I could not find peace. There was something that was needed. A pressure, a release. You know what I mean. Not the realization of life as a dance would release me of that. Nor some qi gung. Qi gung that, honestly I did as a mean, not as an end.

Sometimes when I am in this mood I dream of seducing, or just taking, your girls [the last phrase was meant as young girls, it came out as your girls. I think I'll keep it that way]. Not this time. This time I was dreaming, nah, desiring, not exaclty, needing to be taken myself. I wanted to be the passive pole of an amazon woman. Dominated and taken sexually.

I know what does it mean. After so many years of grappling with my sexuality I know what each desire hides. This in particular has a very physical reason. A serious need. A need that any man of a certain age will understand, comprehend, and share.

My prostate gland was swelling. After too many days of abstinence my body was requiring its dose of attentions. And don’t think that morning Tai Ji could relieve me of that. Nor could Earth energy who raised for the occasion. The prostate would take all of that, and be relieved by none.

Many years ago I was hunted by dreams of anal sex. On and on I would dream, fantasize, visualise myself pounding on girls’ nether regions. I also would have a strong desire to open them. Not just for the time of the copulation, but generally. The idea to require (with what authority? But of course with the natural authority given me by my masculinity. My hormones would take none of that bullshit about gender equality. Gender equality… Ha!) them to submit to it for a prolonged time. Do you remember Histoire d’O? When O is required by her lover to wear a butt plug for few hours a day, every day. That was my dream.

I investigated that dream. I plugged myself into it, following the physical need that would make it raise. And I was by it guided to my own nether regions. To my own bum. To my own anus. To my own rectum. And ultimately to that place between the rectum and the sexual organ where I felt there was a blockage. Deep, deep inside. As deep as my mind could follow the sensations inside my own body. And the blockage was giving raise to that feeling. The blockage was the feeling. Just masked and transformed into an intellectual excercise. And opening my anal region, would then by paramount to releasing such blockage.

The opening would then release the division between the inside and the outside. It would be a zen action, similar to enlightenment. The way of anal sex. Geniality? Perversion? I took a sex toy made of rubber balls, lubbed it, cut it to have only three balls, and did to myself what I so strongly desired to do to them.

And I kept it in. On and on, for the whole night I kept it in. While my body would ask to take it away I would relentlessly sustain its presence. Through dreams, and subconscious messages. Opening me, relaxing me, then opening me again, deeper. Transforming every anal tension in a subtle, or not so subtle, local small pain. Forcing me to give up. And then in the morning I would take it away. Clean it, and repose it.

And then the magic would happen. My anal region would send signals of distension. Of relaxation. Of opening. And with it my mind would be relaxed. My body would follow. I seemed to have found one of the secret keys to the internal relation among my body parts.

A few things have here to be added: it was really hard for me. To have such a prostatic stimulus without having an urge to masturbate was nearly impossible. I think I managed only one time. And after coming I would feel a strong objection to have such an object buried in my body. So few times did I start but could not complete, as I would be exited, masturbate, come and then took away the offending part. Like a chain where each link is strongly connected to the next I had a hard time in cutting through it. Some times I would masturbate, and just force myself to keep the toy in. Keep it in, through the disconfort. As in that first night. Taking it like a man.

The second thing I want to clarify is that although only male have a prostate gland, I don’t believe that this technique would relaxe only men. I had women, and I do remember their expression after anal sex. When it has not been painful, and it does not have to be painful if he is careful enough, and she is open enough, both physically, but more importantly psychologically. Their face was of complete relaxation. Of utter giving up. Of total abandon. It was similar to a diapered baby. And so much did they felt taking care off. The prostate is only part of the game. And not even the most important part. Having the anus relaxed like a baby, or tense like a warrior is a much more relevant thing.

All this to explain why, in the state I was yesterday evening I did not went for the pornographic newspaper, nor for the absent computer, nor for my engorged phallus. But for the rubber balls.