[This is the fourth and last in the series of 'The Penis Chronicles'. To read the previous post please click here ]
How does one cultivate a coticulturist? Are they born or created? I am not sure. I didn’t become a coticulturist because I was thinking about this stuff. You might say I started thinking about this stuff because I was trying to understand my coticulturism. When I think back on it I do realize that I was never taught to think of dicks as something scary that would bite me. I was never taught to think of them as this thing that wanted something from me and would use artifice, trickery and even force to obtain it. And I was lucky enough to never face any kind of sexual abuse and to never have to interact with a penis until I was willing and it was on my terms. In fact I have interacted with only one dick, the first I ever touched, unwillingly—and it was followed by a breakup and then by such a great experience with another person that I have been able to not even have to register the bad dick in my penile history. Not all women are this lucky. I recognize that. But I think that even for those who were taught either by advice or experience that the penis was something to fear, something ugly to be reluctantly endured, there is some reconditioning that can be done.
I think we can learn something from the huge movement that is out there for women to love their vaginas. I myself support pussy-love whole-heartedly and since the age of ten when my flexible self bent back to look at my pussy I have studied it with a hand mirror at least once every few months. I got a copy of the Vagina Monologues at thirteen. I have learnt what my pussy smells like, what it tastes like, what it does when it’s happy, what makes it happy, what it can do when you truly rock its world and what it does when it wasn’t really impressed but wants to let you down gently. I have gotten to know my pussy intimately and to be totally comfortable with someone being all up in it with their eyes, fingers, nose, and heart. I am certain that without an accessible wealth of information about my pussy and a movement to love my ladybits I would never have gotten to be the confident woman I am today. Borrowing from the tenets of the pussy-loving movement I would like to start a movement (on Adventures at least) for guys to love their junk. You won’t believe how many guys have never actively studied their dicks or interacted with them outside of jacking off or taking a bath. You won’t believe how many guys have no real clue about the unique shape of their balls.
So peeps, let’s try this. If you are a guy, when you go home get a mirror, put it down there and study your junk. If you don’t need a mirror then just sit down and whip it out. Study it for a few minutes, turn it this way and that. Lift it up, look under it, trail your fingers from the base to your perineum (what my mum calls the twe-trumu bridge) and feel every inch of your dick. Feel every line and every curve. Close your eyes. Touch it all over again and use your other senses to memorize its unique features. Then jack off. Slowly. Look at it while you touch yourself. See what it does. Then ask whoever you are sleeping with, gently and honestly and with absolutely no bravado or machismo or dressing up of how important it would be to you, to just touch you in a fully-lit room for as long or as little as they would like. Teach them about your junk. Show them how not scary and mysterious and dirty it is. Teach them what feels good to you. Teach them how to love your penis. I think the world will be a little better for it. And if nothing else, it will feel good.
Now on to those of us who do not own penises but s3bi lease them from time to time. For those of us who interact with the penises of others quite frequently. Here is your assignment. The next time you have the chance to interact with a penis don’t just grab it or wait for it to be handed to you and then stick it in your hand or mouth or pussy or wherever you have decided it goes. Unwrap it. Yes, like a present. Turn the light on. Say hi to it. Gently touch every inch of it. Blow on it. Softly. Gently. Like you are blowing out a single birthday candle or a just-lit match. Give it a kiss. Smile at it. Hold it in your hand and curl your fingers around it and just keep looking at it till it has grown as big as it can possibly get. Then tell it you are pleased to make its acquaintance and do whatever you were going to do originally. I think the world will be a little better for it. And if nothing else, it will feel good.