As I wrote about the cunt conspiracy, I’m now writing from my perspective about the cock conspiracy, a conspiracy I also love and believe is as hedonistic as my own. Of course, cocks are in all shapes and sizes, some circumcised, others not(though I’ve only had a couple of that kind) and it is a fact of life for me that indeed, size matters. To the men I’ve met in my 60 something years, their cocks are their lifeblood; one man seemingly boasting “I can’t keep it in my pants’ as he elaborated on wife number 3 and a current partner, and another telling me it’s long, designed, I couldn’t help wondering, to titillate me. If so, it worked. He also told me that young boys are sex mad; I told him so was I, but am not sure he understood that as much as young boys might masturbate and have copious wet dreams, so do many young girls. Are we all obsessed by our own sexuality; men sometimes telling me that when they were young and in a urinal, they’d glance surreptitiously at their mates; guess what they were looking for? Just how they measured up, comparatively speaking, that is, a couple of young men once told me. They would greet each other with a nonchalant nod; all acknowledging they were fully fledged males and ready for anything; the female variety, that is. For them, their cocks reign sacrosanct; flaunting their virile masculinity with a flourish given half a chance, for them as much as for women, at least for me. Their pride and joy at their cock size can only be appreciated when they are naked and lying beside you or else in discreet moments hidden behind their pants when they hope no one is watching down there.
But knowing how to use this glorious testament to male sexuality is another issue and what else they should or could be doing takes on a different perspective. Are their cocks simply the be all and end all of it all? They might need to come and ejaculate to feel good and satisfied but is that all they think about? And how often? Are they inherently, albeit unconsciously, victims of their own cock conspiracy? Or are they in control of their cocks in a way they can manage and enjoy?
I used to find it a mysterious wonder of the world how a man’s cock can rise and harden when sexually excited; it changes before your eyes as a woman’s remains secret and hidden; it’s a fascinating aspect of our human sexuality that as much as the male is obvious, the female is quite the opposite and why is that? How does a man know we want him unless he touches us and can feel it for himself whereas we can be only too well aware that his conspiracy is alive and well and thriving under his pants. Of course, I can’t answer these questions from a male perspective except to ponder our great difference in the visual extreme; but men do seem more than women to feel far more comfortable with using their cocks in great abandon than we do with putting our cunts out there.
There was an article in the newspaper (sorry, these articles often inspire these blogs) written by a secret footballer who wrote about footballers five or six years previously engaging in group sex with young women but that social media had stopped this behaviour now. Why, I reflected? Certainly, many are scared of getting caught out, apparently, but I thought, if they’re doing nothing wrong and the females are willing and consenting, what’s the problem? Are they scared of sex per se or are the clubs and the league now trying to dictate the footballers’ sex lives? Who cares where they’re putting their cocks if it’s all agreed to and not interfering with how they play on the field? I don’t get it. Of course, the writer referred to their women as ‘loot’, spoils and curvaceous beauties, and there was a predictable outcry in letters to the paper about how these footballers must change their attitudes to women. More respect please! But there was nothing from any of the females who’ve bedded these footballers; maybe too they were their loot, their spoils and with the best bodies going around. The females might not be playing on the field, but they can be players off the field as much as the footballers. Maybe these women wanted to be part of the cock conspiracy as I did when I was younger and who can blame them? I can only lament that I’m now old enough to be most of their grandmothers!
Sadly, it’s all too clear to me that while the cock conspiracy is to be celebrated as the ‘sowing their wild oats’ cliché goes, women still languish by the broom cleaning up the cinders waiting for their prince cocking to meet their cunt charming. It’s way out of kilter as far as my experience and reading and talking to women and men tells me. As Zorba The Greek put it to the shy, repressed young Englishman on Crete: undo your belt and look for trouble or words to that effect. But it’s hardly trouble for most of them, all too keen, willing and able to rise to the occasion whenever and wherever they can, decorum permitting. Interesting for me is that I recently finished reading 50 Shades of Gray; the supposed porn best seller about a young woman and a handsome man who enter into a sexual relationship where he calls the shots and it’s only sex, whereas as much as she gets off on the sex, it’s not enough for her. She wants more; a real relationship that goes beyond mere sex. Millions of women apparently read this and loved it; the sex in the book is indeed exciting and a turn on, but the man wanted just the sex, as he was a poor tormented soul in so many other ways as far as I could determine. How often do we, both men and women, want just sex from each other? How much cock and cunt is enough for us both? Are we really wanting and needing love in the guise of having just a good time in bed? Are the cock conspiracy and the cunt conspiracy merely a masquerade for something far more profound beneath the surface?
I had a female friend some years ago who met a man in a bar who she fucked the first night and continued to have sex with him for months before declaring to me that she had fallen in love with him. She acknowledged he was her intellectual inferior; called him a bogun, but nonetheless, they ended up getting married. I don’t know how he initially reacted to their relationship or whether they’re still together as I don’t see her anymore, but I find the pattern all too humorous and indeed, predictable as she was edging near 40 and he was more than eight years younger than her. Whose conspiracy? Both of them I reflect, having a good time in bed does indeed stretch beyond the sheets more often than we might want to acknowledge.
But is the conspiracy of both men and women the starting point for it all?
Of course, in many old-fashioned and traditional cultures around the world females are still expected to be virgins when they marry and often for an arranged marriage too, whereas the cock conspiracy can be alive and thriving for the male partner. He can put it where he can though still wants to marry a supposedly pure female. Is the cock conspiracy more potent than the cunt conspiracy, I can only ponder, even in our supposed liberal and relatively free western democracies, where women are still more circumspect about who is up their cunts? Men I believe, are far less choosy; far less particular about who they put their cocks in. Maybe it’s that the old double standard still flourishes in our social milieu; I just read a story in a newspaper a couple of weeks ago about sex education in schools where girls who have sex are condemned as sluts while the boys are regarded as successful studs. Have times a-changed at all? I think not. The great plus about being an older woman is that for me, I no longer care what labels or malevolent judgements are hurled at me; not that I did much when I was younger either, though withstanding malicious and nasty gossip was hard to say the least. It is without doubt for me that the legendary status of the cock is far superior to my cunt and the cock conspiracy succeeds far easier than my own. It’s still a man’s world where cocks call the conspiracy and the cunts have to be that much stronger and more resilient to do ourselves the justice and enjoyment we deserve, moreover, want AND need.