Cock: isn’t it hilarious?

So this post has been saved on my phone for months now, under the provisional title ‘Hen nights.’ Which is unfair, really: I’ve been on *bad* hen nights, most memorably the one where the Maid of Honour told the bride not to book anywhere for dinner that cost more than £20 a head for dinner because she couldn’t afford it and then proceeded to sneak off during the daytime events and buy herself a Marc Jacobs handbag. But luckily, I’ve not been on any where everything – from the straws to the ice cubes to the shot glasses to the chocolates – has been in the shape of cock.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t hen nights like that out there though. How do I know? Because I’m the girl who ‘likes cock.’ Which means, at the height of wedding season, I’ve come back to my desk to find everything from a little wind-up plastic cock with feet to a crumpled party napkin containing three ‘chocolate’ (I use that term loosely) dicks, with little smiley faces, filled with mint ‘cream’ (geddit?). It’s almost as disappointing as when you’re a kid and you get home from a birthday party to discover that you accidentally sat on your slice of birthday cake in the car, and now it’s all squashed and unappetising.

I was reminded that I wanted to write this post earlier this evening, when I saw this:

I don’t think it’s true any longer to say that women are only allowed to talk about/look at/like cock when it’s presented in a comedy setting. I think it’s now ok to admit that, when you see a guy naked you fancy all of him – not just his arse, his legs or his broad shoulders, but his cock, too, whether it’s hard or not. Personally, I have a weakness for both hard and soft: I love when he’s rock solid before he even gets his jeans off and you can pull his boxers away and watch him spring free, swollen and ready for action, but I’m equally as fond of those moments after sex when he’s soft again, and his cock is damp and mollusc-like. Those moments when he thinks I’m not watching and he cups himself gently in his hand. I think his cock is beautiful.

For all their faults, men don’t seem to try to turn cunts into comedy props. Yes, stag nights are equally guilty of tasteless themes: men squeezed into their girlfriends’ dresses, men with a fake ball and chain around their ankle – but the ‘humour,’ although pretty bloody predictable and childish if you ask me, is not based on how hilarious the female anatomy is. You may well disagree, and feel free to in the comments, but I think we’ve moved on since the 90s and Men Behaving Badly ‘aren’t-tits-hilarious’ style humour.

I fear this post makes me sound like a spoilsport, now I’m nearing the end of it. That wasn’t my intention at all. The point I was trying to make, albeit badly, is that I hate hen night props for two reasons. Firstly, because I think it’s really, really important that we celebrate people’s bodies, whatever their shape and whatever their gender and I think selling plastic, disembodied body parts with little faces for laughs detracts from that, and secondly because I think it reduces women’s conversations about men, their bodies and sex to a superficial and often dishonest, level. I think we need to stop playing sex for laughs, essentially – at least until we can all agree that it’s a happy, healthy thing for adults, both male and female, to be doing.

 

PS I noticed when I was writing this that Horny Geekgirl has also written about cock this evening. You can find her post here.

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I like your cock … just not as your avatar – Part 2

It’s Sunday again, which means it’s also #SinfulSunday, something which makes me increasingly anxious with every week that passes.  I have no issue at all with the premise, but if I was being totally honest, does it bother me that it’s something the boy likes to take part in? Yes.

I deserve to be pulled up on that – Sinful Sunday is all about images which are erotic, not just graphic, which does tend to mean that you get more of a sense of the story behind the image than you otherwise might, something which I said I liked in the first post on this topic a few weeks back. The boy is both clever and funny, and it comes across in the pictures he takes. So far, so good. 

The other reason why I deserve to be pulled up on it is the reason why I always intended there to be a 2nd blog post on this topic. For all I have a list of wants regarding naked pictures, and despite not being a huge fan of the cock shot I can’t help but be a little bit in awe of people who have sufficient body confidence to put the bits of themselves that they like up for public consumption. It’s not up to me to decide which bits of himself he should like enough to flaunt. A story: I was in the bath this afternoon, shaving my legs and as I ran the razor down over the back of my right calf, I noticed that I actually have pretty good muscle definition there. This is about the only upside to having a left leg that does fuck all in terms of weight bearing – despite doing absolutely zero exercise I actually have a pretty sexy bit of muscle tone going on between my ankle and my knee. That’s a bit of me I like – I doubt he finds it quite as hot.

The point: the bits of him that I find hot (not going to list them here, it’s a little personal and at risk of descending into FSoG ‘OMFG, the way his pants hang from his hips’ territory, I feel) are not necessarily going to be the bits that he likes best about himself. It would  be very easy, and very obvious here to say that of course his cock is going to be his favourite part of himself – he’s a man, isn’t he? – but it would be a cheap shot, and not one I actively believe in – I love my tits, but I have friends who aren’t quite so enamoured with theirs and presumably men are the same – some like their cocks, some don’t, and, if they do, of course they have the right to show it off if that’s what they want to do.

My personal gripe with him doing it is fuelled by the same fear that motivates the other things I dislike: that the reason he does it is to attract women. Again, it’s my problem, not his, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be honest about it. I mentioned this blog to a friend the other day and she asked if I started it ‘as an act of revenge against him blogging.’ Er, no, not at all – I started it because my relationships with men, with love, with sex, and with him are all complicated and because I write and I wanted to work my feelings through in writing. Did it need to be in the public domain? No. Do I regret making the decision to put it there? No. 

He’s not a massive fan of it, either, and I get that, totally. I need somewhere to work through the things that bother me, but would I like it if he was doing the same to me? No, I’d go fucking psycho. But equally, it’s not really about him, it’s about me, just in the same way that his cock shots aren’t mine to like, dislike or even comment on. So, really, what I want from a cock shot is pretty irrelevant – if a guy has the confidence to flaunt it then kudos to him for achieving that level of self-acceptance. Just understand that I can admire you for it without liking the fact that you do it, that’s all.