The General Musings of a Sane Madman

Good day, my wonderfully weird and kinky readers! I hope you are having an awesome hump day to start the stretch to the weekend! I also hope you have someone to hump!

Wait, “Good day”?? The fuck? That feels weirdly formal. And when I hear it in my head it sounds British. Odd considering my British accent sounds incredibly similar to my normal American accent. Yay for not being good at accents!

But I digress. Or do I? I probably do. Or not. Fuck it. You figure it out!

This is a very odd start to a blog. I promise I’m not drunk. Yet. Or maybe I am…

MOVING ON!

Today marks a very special and important day in my life. It was a year ago today that I had someone love my profile on here. And as promised by my profile at the time, I messaged her. What started as just a little friendly conversation mixed with my quirky humor quickly escalated into a desire to talk more and more and more.

Before long, we left the cage for another and easier app for our conversation. And from there, it was rare we ever went more than 5 minutes without a message to or from the other. We didn’t really know it at the time, but something special was happening.

In about a months time, I celebrated a birthday (end of October. Start shopping now, dear readers! You’re running out of time!) and my amazing angel said she wished she could spend it with me and make it special. And while the only time we could spend together was via text and a phone call, it was one of the best birthdays I’ve had. 

We proceed to then exchanging phone numbers and continued to grow even closer. We talked all day every day, and there was nothing that made me happier than getting that little notification saying that she texted me. I smile now just thinking about it.

We make it to the holidays and she sends me an amazingly sweet gift and it really made a big difference in how the holidays were going for me. And of course I sent her something small as well, and she loved it, of course. But I think she won in the gift department, because she’s just so good at that!

We enter the new year and begin long daily phone calls. To say we averaged 5-6 hours a day on the phone wouldn’t be a stretch, and the more we talked, the more we wanted to say. She was the only thing I wanted and she consumed my every waking thought, and all of my dreams. I didn’t understand how someone I had never met in person could make me feel the way she could. It didn’t make sense to me. Hell, it still doesn’t. If this is what love feels like, then I must confess I’ve never known love before. 

Things changed and became very real in February. I confessed my love for her in a cute way that she will always be able to relive. And she admitted her love for me in return. She was my person, and I, hers. We wanted to be together and started the process of planning it out.

In April, we finally made it happen. I was able to spend about 3 weeks with my sweet slutty angel, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would never be happy without her in my arms every day. And I will never have to face a reality where that happens again. Neat!

Since then, our relationship has grown stronger and even deeper, which I don’t understand. How is it even possible to want to spend every second of my time with her? And how can she feel the same? It doesn’t make sense. All I want is her. Lucky for me, she’s MINE. So I get it! 

I truly think that what we have is rare and special. I see countless people who are in relationships who complain about spending time with their partner. “Why does he always want to take me out?” “She always touches me!” “I wish he wouldn’t slap my ass every time I walk by.”

Fuck that! They love you. They want to show it, and that’s how they are able to express it. You’ll miss it when it’s gone. And go it will, if you can’t appreciate it for what it actually is!

Sorry, this isn’t a relationship advice blog. This is a blog to express my happiness at finding my person on this site one year ago.

To my beloved slutty angel,

You took a risk taking on a Dom with so little experience, and a man with so much weirdness. And every single day, I am thankful that you did. You are my best friend, my happy place, the brightest star in my life, and my everything. We’ve made it to this point, and while yes, it is a huge accomplishment, it pales in comparison to just how high we will fly! One down, forever to go! I love you so damn much! 

My dear reader, thank you for indulging me in a few moments of bliss over the wonderful woman in my life and our journey together. I truly hope you are able to find something just as amazing. It’s out there. I promise. I found it. She was here, locked in her own Cage, waiting to be set free.

See what I did there? I’m fucking clever!

Good afternoon, my favorite and loyal reader! I hope your weekend has been full of fun and crazy times that make your legs quake and toes curl.

Mine definitely has been. 

As you can tell by the title, ya goofy boy Cozubia, has set a new personal record! A record for what? Go back and read my previous blogs if you don’t know.

But let’s face it, you’re my favorite reader. Which means I’m your favorite blog. That’s how it works. Don’t fight me on this. You won’t win. But you will end up with a sore ass. Although you may like that. I’ll have to think of a better punishment then… Hmm…

Anywho!

A new record has been set! Well, records. Plural.

In a single 24 hour period, I was the cause (to my great pleasure) of an astounding 85 orgasms for my slutty angel. My previous record was about 50, so a huge jump!! My gorgeous good girl did such an amazing job! I love that girl more than I can even put into words.

(No, I love you more! Stop arguing with me!)

The other record that I set was last night, without the use of toys or my hands or mouth or any other aids, using just what the baby Jesus gave me, she hit 30 in a single session. Fucking amazing!!

Sorry, I had to brag on my sweet girl. Next up? Triple digits!

Good afternoon and happy weekend, all my wonderful and amazing readers! All two of you!! Love you duckers!

Quack!

So, while talking to my slutty angel recently, it’s been mentioned that I have some brat-like tendencies and I can and have used them while being the best most badass Dom that’s ever evered… or you know, hoping and praying that I don’t duck (quack!) it all up and break this poor woman… and it had us pose a each other a question. 

Is there a term for a bratty Dom? I admittedly don’t know all the terms and what they all mean, so I couldn’t think of one. And Google hasn’t been overly helpful. I may not have typed in the right search string. Or maybe it’s not a thing that has a name? I dunno!

But what do you think? Is there a term for a Dominant that likes to be a bit (or even a lot) bratty at times? It seems somewhat common from my searches, just no names came up.

Thanks for any insight you may or may not provide! Wait, “may not provide”? Duck (quack) that! Hook ya boy up with all the wisdoms!!

Good afternoon, my wonderful reader!

This is a very short and sweet post.

I set a new high score last night… 

51!!

If you know, you know. If not, you aren’t paying attention to my blogs. Rude!

Welcome back, my dear loyal reader! I have missed you and have stories to tell! Did you miss me? It’s ok if you didn’t. Because we both know you’re lying through your slutty little teeth! 

Wait, what the fuck?

Anyway, I’m back from my trip to go see my most amazing slutty angel, and I had the best time. I don’t think I’ve ever had a happier stretch of consecutive days in my life! Hell, I’m not sure my 21 best days prior to this trip (not consecutive, just 21 best in general) can even come close to topping this.

Yes. 21 days. 3 whole weeks. It was supposed to be for 2ish weeks, but plans change and we decided to extend it a bit more. And I’m so glad we did! I’ll go through and hit some of the highlights. 

I will not, however, go into too much detail on the… umm… more intimate things, as they are not just my stories to tell. We shared a lot of amazing moments together, but generally, the kinky details will be omitted.

So, I fly in and she meets me at the airport. I opt to surprise her with something cute because it’s what I do. As I’m walking through the airport, I’m recording a random message for her that also includes the moment we meet in person and that unforgettable feeling of the first hug. People can remember those things. She can listen to it all she wants.

You're right. I’m adorable. We go to a hotel room on a beach for the first couple nights. We were in our own little amazing private bubble. We walked up and down the beach collecting shells and cool rocks. We talked. We laughed. We smiled a lot. The only way it could have been more perfect was if we didn’t have to leave and could stay in that bubble forever.

She also made me try Thai food. I had drunken noodles. Fucking great! But!!! They taste weirdly familiar to me and I don’t know why! Like, it’s a common taste, but I can’t place it. So if you know, my lovely reader, please tell me!!

After the amazing beach trip, we went back to her house for the remainder of my stay. And let me say, never have I ever felt more calm, more at peace, or more at home than I did with this girl. She’s truly the best. There will be no arguments on that. From you, my loyal reader, or from her. 

A little less than a week in, something interesting happened to me. We were having a particularly fun night, very intense and very enjoyable. Everything started to feel… different. The room, hell, the world faded away. I was focused purely on my beautiful angel. Everything was so different than anything I have ever felt. I felt completely intoxicated, yet still fully in control and in the moment.

The next morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It caused me to do a bit of research, and after a fair bit of reading, I’m pretty sure I had my first experience with Dom space. I didn’t even really know that was a thing until I started reading up on it. So that was pretty neat. It was a such a wonderful thing to have happen with this beautiful girl.

A couple days after that realization, I discovered something else that’s pretty new for me. For a few months, I’ve been trying to figure out what kind of Dom I am. There are so many different types and ways of doing things that I just wanted to find out where I fit into the lifestyle.

I’m not a high protocol kind of guy, I’m not the most strict or disciplinary, I’m not really a Daddy although I do have some of those tendencies. I’m not a brat tamer or looking for a slave or any of the multitude of other wonderful types. Where do I fit??

After a little talking about it, we figured out that I’m a Pleasure Dom. Apparently that’s a fairly newer thing that started over the last few years so there isn’t a lot information on it, but it seems to fit. One of the biggest concepts that I feel is accurate, is that I take pleasure from giving my partner orgasms just as much, if not more at times, than I get from my own.

Sounds fun, right? Well… we learned after a lot of forced orgasms… yum… that I’m also a bit of a sadist in that I’ll make you cum until it hurts. And then about 10 more times. Well, only 10 if you’re a good girl. Maybe 20. Or let’s see what happens when I put you on a clock. You have an hour, so I’m going to make you cum as much as possible. Let’s set some high scores!!

I’m not going to tell you my high score… but holy shit. I’m fucking proud of myself! You should be too!

So yeah, apparently I’m a Pleasure Sadist. I have no idea if that’s actually a thing or not. But I love how it sounds, so I’m taking it and wearing it like a badge of honor!

The trip was so amazing. I tried so many different things and we had so many different “firsts” that I’m still trying to process some of it. Some sexual, some just regular life, all of it was absolutely perfect.

The only bad thing was that it had to come to an end at some point. And that was today. I flew back home today, and I can’t (and won’t) try to explain the levels of sadness we both felt as I boarded my plane. It was rough.

But I suppose all good things must end so that we can look forward to the next time we meet, right?

I miss her already. Damn. This little slutty thing has me wrapped around her finger, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Good evening, my wonderful and amazing readers! How are you doing? I hope you’re doing well! I am emotionally all over the place right now. I’m happy, excited, nervous, scared, anxious, I kinda have to pee… all the things!!!

Tonight, I spend the next 10 or so hours in the airport because tomorrow morning, I fly to my slutty angel! The last few weeks have been strange and kind of a blur, but we are making this happen. And it happens tomorrow morning!

I don’t have much to say other than that, so I will keep it short and sweet. This is going to be a long night, but it’s so worth it.

I’m coming, beautiful. Just about 12 more hours until you’re in my arms, which is right where you belong.

Good afternoon, my dear reader! I hope you are having an amazing day! And if not, go get laid and make it better! If you can’t get laid, take matters into your own hands and put in some work. Come back when you’re finished.

Don’t worry, I’ll wait…

Welcome back! That was… fast. You must be really good at that. For really bad. Hmm… interesting. 

What are we even talking about?

Oh! Right!!

If you read my last post, and I’m sure you did because, well, it’s me, you know I’m on my way to see my slutty angel soon. We are 9 days away! I will see her for the first time at about 8:45am on the April 14th! I’m 9 days away!!

And of course we’re both excited. And terrified. This will be our first experience together in person. And it’s more than just a get together to play. This is a real thing. So it’s going to be amazing and fun and so much more than I could have ever hoped!

We have made some plans and have some ideas on things to do and how to spend some of our time. And they all sound like they will be so good! But I find myself looking at smaller things that I’m excited for more than the sex or kinky stuff. 

Color me a romantic, but I’m excited for the first kiss. I want it to be memorable and special, because to me, it is. 

Im also really excited for the snuggles at night, falling asleep with her in my arms. I need that closeness and intimacy in my life!

Theres a lot of changes in my life going on right now, but my beautiful slutty angel has been a great source of support and comfort, and I could never thank her enough for what she does for me daily. And I know she’s reading this, so… Thank you, my love. Thank you for being you, and thank you for being MINE!

I’m a lucky guy. Luckier than most. And in 9 days, I’ll be getting even luckier!! So much excitement!! And she’s only 9 sleeps away!!!

Good morning, my amazing and loyal reader!! I hope you’re having an awesome day! Todays post will be a bit of a hopeful and cheerful one. So that’s awesome!

First of all, I want to say thank you all for the positive thoughts and support after my last post. That was heavy stuff to face, but I made it through. It wasn’t easy, and there were even some external factors that made things even more complicated for me, but I managed to work through them with some level of grace and dignity. Sort of?

But now for the good things!!

Things have been really good with my slutty angel as of late. Even better than I could have imagined. Distance is hard the longer you do it, and tomorrow (the 27th) will be 6 months since we met and started our friendship, which has turned into something so much more.

We are closer than ever and looking forward to what our future holds, and very optimistic about those possibilities. And we’ve decided that it was time for us to meet in person finally!! And as the title to this post implies, we are 3 weeks away from that! 

The specifics to that visit haven’t been set in stone just yet, but we are going to make it happen and I’m so excited and even more terrified! Things are getting REAL now, and that’s a huge step! 

I know she’s happy to finally get to see me and she’s crazy excited about this too! I’m sure I’ll post more blogs about it as things draw even closer, but I am so excited!!! I can’t wait!!

Im coming, my dear sweet angel.

Good afternoon, my dear readers! I hope you are having an awesome day! I expect mine to be hard. This is a challenging blog to write today. 

There will likely not be many jokes or much goofiness. In fact, it’s very much the opposite. It’s heartbreaking, soul crushing, and just completely unfair that I have to write this to begin with. 

Today let’s talk about loss.

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING: This is a very personal matter that deals with a very painful and impactful death I have experienced. If you are not able to read about that for any reason, I hope you have an amazing day. This isn’t specifically BDSM related, and I hope it’s not something that triggers people, but if you’ve been through it too, I understand how it can be a trigger. If you’ve been through this, I’m sorry. I hope you’re doing ok.

I’ve mentioned and possibly teased in a few blogs that last year was hard for me but I never explained why, instead saying it’s for a future post. Well, that’s happening now. It’s a post to publish in the future, being written in the present, about the past. Time is strange.

Only a very select few from this site know this, and I can count that small number on like 2 fingers. But a year ago today (Feb. 27th) I became a father for the first time. It was a surreal experience because things went so wrong in so many ways.

For the backstory, me and a friend of mine were hooking up a bit during late 2021 because it was hard to date during the Covid times and sometimes you just have to get creative. We were smart and careful, always using protection and everything.

But even protection isn’t 100% guaranteed. A broken condom later and I find out she’s pregnant. We don’t really know what to do, but we decide we are going to try to raise the baby together and be the best parents we can be. We shift from a friends with benefits type arrangement to actually dating.

There were a few scares that really made things stressful for us both, but things were progressing smoothly. Around Thanksgiving we had a gender reveal. I was going to have a son! I was elated and so excited! I didn’t care what gender it was, but knowing made it more real for me.

The gender reveal was very early, but she was excited to find out. So we did.

December was full of happy thoughts about the future as our son grew. There’s an app you can get that relates how big he is to different things to give you an idea. When we got it, he was the size of a poppyseed. And the name “Poppyseed” stuck with us and it was our favorite nickname for our little bundle of joy.

January was largely uneventful and things were going as smoothly as one can expect.

February was when all hell broke loose. On February 16th, her water broke. We had no idea what was happening. There was blood everywhere and we were completely terrified. I call an ambulance and I haul ass to get to the ER to be with her and the baby. At this point, my son is 21 weeks old. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

She doesn’t give birth though. Which is good. A baby isn’t generally considered viable outside of the womb until 23 weeks, although there is a growing movement to have more care for babies at 22 weeks. It’s hard because technology can only go so far and the babies are so tiny, so it’s a hard change to make.

The hospital we were at essentially told us flat out that if my son is not at least 23 weeks old, they won’t even try to help him. Panic sets in. How could it not? But of course, I have to be strong for him and his mother.

Through research and talking with doctors over the next few days, we learn she suffered from something called pprom (preterm premature rupture of membranes) and at this age, it’s very uncommon. Our chances are not good. We have a less than 10% chance of this going well.

We move to a different hospital that would actually help our son if she goes into labor prior to 23 weeks. They even have a really good NICU, and it was just the right call. The longer we wait, the better our chances, but the more likely that there will be major birth defects because a baby needs a sack of fluid to develop properly. They can’t do it right just… laying on a weird meat bed. 

On February 27th, an infection sets into the placenta and it causes labor to begin. We are at 22 weeks, 6 days. The doctors are as nice and comforting as they can be, but set a very real expectation that if Poppyseed isn’t moving or reacting after he comes out, they will wrap him up and hand him to us. There’s nothing they can do.

Labor takes place and I’m terrified, shaking, trying and failing to hold back tears. I already know what’s going to happen. After the third push, he’s here. He’s so tiny, so it didn’t take much to get him out. The doctor hands me the scissors and asks me to cut the cord. I’m so scared to hurt him or his mother that I have to try to cut it four times before I’m successful.

I look up to check on him. He’s moving. And my heart has never been more full of hope in my life. They immediately take him and start working on him, hooking him up to so many machines and things. The NICU team works miracles and they deserve so much more credit than they ever get.

I follow them with my son to the NICU. His mother is told that she can see him as soon as she’s able to walk. The epidural is making it a challenge. But she busted her ass to work through it to be able to walk to see our son. As you would expect.

He was born late evening and by the time I made it back to delivery to be by his mother, it was close to about 10pm. She can walk by 11, so we go back and just watch him. He’s so small and beautiful and perfect. We stay about an hour before we go back to her room so she can rest.

The next day, less than 18 hours after giving birth, she’s released from the hospital and we move to the NICU because we aren’t going to not be by our son. 

We spend the next 3 days in the NICU, watching. Waiting. Hoping. Praying. Some doctors are more optimistic than others, some have already given up hope. I want to choke the ones who gave up. Stupid fucks.

Finally… after 3 days, my little boy, my beautiful Poppyseed loses his fight. The overwhelming pain and heartbreak are indescribable. I truly hope that none of you are ever in this position, my loyal readers. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone.

I wrote something that I shared online back when I still used Facebook that only some people had a chance to see. And I want to share it now. It’s the hardest and most emotional thing I’ve ever had to write. I wrote it the afternoon after he passed.

“This morning at 2:14, Poppyseed lost his fight. His body was just too tiny to keep going, although he tried so hard. But after such a long and hard fight, he was able to pass peacefully and pain free in our arms.

54 hours and 1 minute. That’s how long you were with us. That’s 3,241 minutes. During that time I felt the full spectrum of emotions. There was overwhelming joy and happiness when you joined us. I was so happy I struggled to cut your umbilical cord. It took your old man 4 tries to get it right. What can I say? I didn’t want to hurt you.

After a couple tense minutes, you were taken away from us so that you can start getting the help you needed. It’s such a big world, and we needed to help you grow big and strong so that you could enjoy it.

We came to you as quickly as we could though, baby boy. You’re mother and I wanted to be there every step of the way. We never wanted to leave you on your own. So the next couple of days, we were there. Right beside you. You were always on our mind, in our hearts, and just a few feet away. We got to touch you and your mom even got to feed you. You should have seen the happiness in her eyes when she told me that!

But a few hours later, you started to get sick. You were struggling and in pain. We made the hardest decision we have ever had to make. We had to let you go. The good news is that it meant we could finally hold you!

And hold you we did. We made sure you were warm and cozy in our arms. We kissed your soft little head, and there was a calm in all the chaos around us. You being in our arms was right. That’s where you should have been. And I’d give anything to have you in them again now.

After a few minutes, we were able to give you a bath and help wipe all the medical stuff away and washed you and then rubbed you with a soft sweet smelling lotion. Our baby boy needed a little pampering after all you’ve been through.

After you were cleaned and looking fancy, we held you again and took a lot of pictures. You were so handsome! Even though you have that little (my last name) nose. Once we had held your for a while longer, we kissed your beautiful little head some more, and we laid you down so that you could get some rest. You needed it. You’ve been through a lot.

3,241 minutes. It was nowhere near enough. There is no number that would ever be enough. Just know how much we love you, Poppyseed. You are truly the best part of me, which I guess is why you were so perfect and amazing.

You will always be our beautiful baby boy, Poppyseed. We will always love you, and we will always be with you, just as you will always be with us. I’m sorry we didn’t have time for the more fun things we talked about. But I am so thankful for the time I got to spend with you. All 3,241 minutes of it.”

I’m sitting here crying as I read that. Of course I omitted his name as well as my own last name, but you get the idea.

As expected, I struggled a lot in the coming months. His mother and I split up and everything was just crushing. But it’s been a year.

Today, my buddy turns 1. Sure, it’s not how I would have ever wanted it to go, but it’s still a milestone. To celebrate, his mother and I are going to get together for dinner and to go make some random kid very happy.

We are going to an arcade and we are likely going to spend a bunch of money for tokens. And when we’re done, we will be giving all of our tickets to some cute kid. Last time we did this is was over 70,000 tickets that we gave away. Go big, right?

I am here on a BDSM site making a blog about the loss of my son. I never expected to tell this story to a public group like this, but I have to admit it is freeing and quite cathartic.

And to be honest, I can see ways that this experience has changed me and made me a better man, a better Dom, and may make me a better father in the future.

Personal growth through trauma is a very real thing. I just hate it had to be this thing. 

Obviously I skipped a lot of details because some stuff is too hard to write. But this is my story. This is arguably what shaped me into who and what I am today.

There are a few people I have met on here that really helped me through all of this, even if you didn’t know I was going through it. I won’t drop names, but just know that if I have interacted with you, laughed with you, or even just made silly jokes, you helped me when I needed it most. And I can never thank you enough.

From here, I keep growing. And I keep smiling. I have things and people in my life that make everything better in so many ways. So I hope you don’t pity me or anything. I don’t want that. This is purely about me releasing my own thoughts and emotions in a way that I can’t otherwise do.

Thank you, my dear amazing and loyal reader. If you made it this far, know that I love you and I hope that no matter what life throws at you, that you handle with grace and some badass kung fu moves because you can handle this shit!

Good morning, my dear reader! I hope your Tuesday is going great! Mine has been alright. I’m done working for the day, so I still get to sit at work for another 5 or so hours… fun!!

This post is something that I was just inspired to make based on a joke I made about 20 minutes that opened up a bit of dialogue that I think is actually healthy for others to have as well. 

What was the joke? I admit it’s not original, so I don’t take credit for the concept. But I’ll still make the joke!

Slutty Angel: 6-10 inches of snow expected tonight. Then more on Thursday.

Me: That awkward moment when the weather is giving your sub more inches than you can… damn

This opened up a bit of discussion about how men are more worried about their size than women are. And why is that? I think a lot of that is tied to the fact that growing up, little boys are toxic and mean and will laugh if you don’t stack up. It gets worse in high school, doesn’t it? Gym showers, sports, and guys just being pricks (pun intended) will expose other guys, and any guy who doesn’t measure up is mocked and laughed it.

It kills our self esteem and destroys our confidence, making it harder to interact with women, making us turn to porn. So we feel bad for having a small (in our own mind) package and turn to a release from something that can’t mock or really hurt us. Porn is good like that, right?

So we grab a lube, a toy, a tissue, a… whatever it is you need to have a little man to hand time. You turn on your clip or movie of choice. You see this attractive dude start working on some gorgeous chick. Then he removes his pants and he has a monster dong that’s bigger than a baby’s arm! 

But porn isn’t real, so we don’t really think about it. We go on about our business and get our jollies. Sure, when we finish we have to pull the lampshade out of our ass, but that’s just a risk we have to take right?

Also, weirdly related but not really… Any of my male readers out there… have you ever came so hard you shot yourself in the face? That’s a weird moment of self reflection right there.

Do I like this?

Am I supposed to buy myself something pretty now?

It’s been 12 minutes, why haven’t I cleaned it off yet…?

Back to the point!!

All around us, we are made to feel lesser because of the size of our cocks. We’re made to feel like less of a man. In part to the fact that it’s often referred to as our “manhood” often enough that it implies that to have a smaller one makes you less of a man than you’d be with a big swinging unit that you can club baby seals with.

It’s caused such a mass insecurity about the size of a man’s penis that it can almost be a crippling fear. You meet a cute girl. Things are going great. You take her to your place and fun ensues. But you worry and stress that once you drop your pants you’ll be laughed at. And why wouldn’t you be? You see it in movies often enough. 

Hell, even women’s sex toys are massive and it leads to an unhealthy perspective from the man because, they feel they have to compete with the toy, or become jealous when their partner uses it because how can they compare with this massive manufactured love stick??

But what really happens? You take your pants off, she sees you in all your glory, and she still wants it. Because women don’t generally care. Why? Because women aren’t horrible people. Of course there are exceptions to that rule, but stick with me here.

Women are more emotional and mental when it comes to sex. They enjoy sex differently than men. Generally, guys are more visual and physically driven. It’s why erotica is more geared towards women, where they can use their mind to create the picture more, as opposed to men who like to see the pretty pictures. 

To be fair, does it surprise you? A woman is much more fun to see naked than a guy is. So men want to enjoy that view, where women are more mentally stimulated because… have you seen a naked dude? Eww… Regardless of size, just Eww.

But again, I digress.

Women don’t care. If they like you, love you, respect you, submit to you, or are just ok with letting you hit it, they don’t care. The only ones who really care about dick size is guys. And we shouldn’t.

I know where my 5ish inches stands. I know it’s average. It’s not impressive. And at times, I want more. But my amazingly sweet and slutty angel enjoys it. And she can’t seem to get enough of it. Her opinion is the only one that matters.

So, to all my male readers, read this and think it over. Stop being ashamed of your beautiful meat and embrace it! Not like that!!! Put it down!! No stroking to the inspirational part of this post!!

Embrace yourself. Your glorious gland of goodness is more than you want to think it is. Don’t be afraid to allow yourself to be happy with it! Your partner is. Don’t put unnecessary pressure on yourself for something so far beyond your control. Instead, put the energy into something productive. Find a way to change the world. Because you can’t change your cock.

Also, don’t get too… cocky with it. Love your meat, but stop showing it to women without them asking! 

BE. FUCKING. BETTER.