I want to get a cock ring…

You read that right.  I want a cockring.  Cock Ring.  Ring of Cocks…. Ring for My Cock.

This is one of those things that seem like more and more of a good idea and less and less of a groady creepoid thing as I age, but also gives me pause due to how the youth may perceive my association with it.  Well… to be completely honest, I really only care about how a select amount of the not-much-younger-than-me contingent of women might think about it.  As for all males and most fairly-younger-females… I don’t give a fuck what you think.  I don’t plan on fitting you in my bed, and if you young ladies find your way in, you ain’t gunna question my ways.  Really, I’m more worried about how the ladies around my age demographic might view me were they to know that I would purchase such an item.

Here’s the deal – I am well past the point of being worried about my own sexual prowess.  In fact, I know exactly where I stand, and while I do not stand where pornstars and magic fuck-forever-stallions do, I’m am comfortable with my moves.  I am comfortable with my skills.  I am comfortable with my strategies, my status, my strength, and my stamina.  I will not front as if I am some magical, super-human being who’s penis will supernaturally stand fast within a vagina for the several months it take some of you women to cum, but I will say that I am not so ignorant – I have other parts and so do you.  Trust me.  We can get there together.

That being said, I am also past the point of being worried about getting it done without help.  I would still prefer not to have any outside human help… yeah, that does mean that when I’m one-on-one with a girl, I really don’t want a threesome.  I know, I’m a filthy pervert guy, which means that I should want thirty thousand other women in there, but I don’t.  In fact, I think that anyone that does has lost focus.  I won’t call you immature, as I also occasionally want that, but I will say that your relationship is immature if you can’t just want the one you love.  Wanting an extra in the bed is maybe okay, but when your heart sways, man… shit is over.

I should make a caveat, though I’m not entirely sure how to define it.  This exception goes to those that are polyamorous.  Back in the day, this went to people that were polygamous.  Somehow we have, as a society, decided that polygamists are evil but polyamorists are enlightened.  I really don’t know what to think about either of them conceptually, from the viewpoint of our society as a whole, so I’ll have to default to the colloquial versions that I am aware of and try to weave them into my own personal view of how society should be – they are both kinda good and they both kinda suck, but polyamory has a base level of unity, trust, and love that polygamy pretends to have.  As such, while it is rare that I believe that your polyamory is genuine, I will believe that genuine polyamorist conglomeration of relationships is more genuine than a a polygamist situation.  Word izzy?  Yeah.  Those words are totally izzy.

Lemme try to get past that to the original deal – I want a cock ring.  Here’s my deal.  I can get it done.  I am not afraid of keeping up my whole “getting it done” thang. I have loved and lost and learned to be better from it.  I am more comfortable in my own skin.  I am starting of thinking of excepting some help, even in places that I don’t really think that I need.  Yeah.  I get it done.  But wouldn’t it be cool to have the girl cum well before I do?  Yeah.  It would be reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaalllll cool.  Yeah.

tl;dr – You shouldn’t be so hung up on somebody that you used to fuck.  Now go buy some lube, some cock rings, and some fake cocks, and let’s get this shit done!

Imma go get my grove on.  The whole world will go blind.

My Extended Bootycall Forecast:

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