Cockless Mike (Part One)

Mike was a Christian fellow. he took for granted, without even thinking about what real sexual responsibility might be, that he would not enjoy intercourse until marriage, though, of course, a lot that he had not imagined might have been done before that ever fleeting away moment of marriage migh happen.

Mike had forgotten the castration fantasies that had fueled his fantasy life in childhood. He had then waited for his parents to catch him after he took one desperate change too many and emasculate him. He felt that might really happend.

However, that was long ago. He never expected anyone now to cut off his teetee now that he had matured into a fine cock.

He knew about castration anxiety. In high school, he had read Freud. He knew all of that was about symbols of separation and growing up.

Mike cherished the touch of his girlfriend Carol when she would stroke him--many times to climax. He touched her precious vulva, explored her vagina, but hardly knew where to find her clitoris. He never saw what he touched, though, he would exjaculate on her pale, white breasts, set against her blue gowns. He wanted his lips to caress Carol's other lips, her labia, but he never did. Carol had herself never masturbated and left their amatory encounters excited, anxious, and perplexed.

The last thing that Mike ever carefully thought about was doing the well-nigh impossible to conceive, deviant, anomalous, abnormal, or aberrant behavior or act. He knew about infidelity, anal sex, and oral sex.

He knew that somewhere in the world homosexual people lived and loved, but he did not know any homosexuals--at least he did not know that he knew any any more than he knew anyone who engaged in oral or anal sex or have affairs. He would never have used the words cocksucker--for a long time during high school, he had not been sure what cock even meant. Then he thought it might even be another word for pussy.

Funny, however, he had read the 1953 edition of "Sexual Behavior in the Human Female" and earlier had "make love during the summer between the sixth grade and the seventh grade when his classmate Judy, still he most beautiful woman he had ever known, had shown up at his door early one fine June morning.

Now, even in college, he knew nothing about human beings been sexually aroused by bondage, headshaving, dental fetishes, or any other fetishes, except one. He knew that the theologian Paul Tillich had a fetish for women's feet.

Mike did love his cock.He knew that men sometimes lost them in accidents and combat or from cancer. However, that was merely a mild anxiety, countered by his daily practice with his exquisite cock.

"It is an elegant cock," as he stoke and waited for the glances between him and his landlady. He expected to keep stroking his cock pleasantly until at least fiftteen minutes after he died as a very old man.

At that time, Mike never imagined anyone, including himself, with an object or body part penetrating his anus, except maybe during a medical examination. He certainly never conceived of anybody receiving sexual pleasure that way. Guys had great beauty, at least if they looked like Mike, but they had the wrong textures and smells.

Meanwhile coeds danced unceasingly before Mike in their youthful burst of utter exultation. Mike, despite his sexual joy in playing with himself was no more ignorant than the young women he knew and maybe not much more ignorant than the other young men he knew. Like most of them, he really did not have a clue. He just knew that sometimes close to organ--only sometimes--he felt that primordial pleasure he long ago had known in childhood when his mother surprised him while he played with his teetee and teased him once again about cutting off his beloved teetee.

"I'll have to cut it off if you don't stop playing with yourself."

His most belove person in the universe would actually tell him that and he would want all the more to press away on his priceless, irreplaceable cock-to-be, his blessed teetee.