Such magic as the wriggly sperm and the waiting egg, make us. It is the sperm and the egg which create a nation. All we have to do is FUCK. We don't create the sperm and egg. Our bodies do. The male body only has to orgasm the sperm to greet the egg. Sex creates a nation. Sex is pleasure.
A manshape is his cock. The magic juice is in the scrotum bag. So many people are afraid of their bodies. The funny thing is that so many people are not ashamed of their own minds.
I stand before the full length mirror in my bedroom in my sixty seven year old body, which has fucked so many women. Their faces are a blur, but their cunts are remembered by my cock. How tight they were. How loose. How wet. How dry. How meaty they looked from the outside. How bushy. How bald. How peachy. I stand before the mirror noticing the loosening of the skin around my once proud muscles. Despite the time I have spent at the gym, time is unstoppable. The destruction of my body has begun. It is well underway. I have a slightly protruding belly, thank god I can still see my cock.
I have a vivid imagination. My imagination is my Viagra. My imagination is my blue pill. It takes more than plain sex to turn me on these days. My imagination needs the freedom to invent the deviance that is inherent within it. It needs to be in an ocean that is choking with froth and foam, in comparison to the calm, placid sea. It needs the energy of sin, and the reek of piss across the bedsheets. It needs sex to be the sunburst, written across the title page. My sixty seven year old body is up to the task. I sit here writing this with my cock jumping in my pants.