Men...Men with Penises

What is it that makes a man attractive?

For me, the answer to that question has changed over the years, as it should. The only thing that every man I have ever been attracted to has had in common is their essence of masculinity. This essence has really nothing to do with sex organs or the size of them, but is rather that certain sense of male-ness. Let me see if I can explain: There's a whole subgenre within a subgenre of gay erotica in which the male hero - a Superman type with bulging muscles - through whatever means, ends up with a vagina. His wiener be gone or pushed inside his frame, and he sportin' the cooter. Once I got past my initial shock at this idea, I found I wasn't too disturbed by it. Superman was still hot, even with a woo-hoo instead of a dingle-dong. His masculinity was still hanging out even if his balls weren't. The Masculine Mystique.

Still, masculine essence a given, my attractions have changed beyond that. My first erotic memory was about Bo Duke. You know. One of the good ol' boys riding around in the General Lee. Ick. This is strange for me since I'm usually not attracted to blonds. Occasionally I'll see one and be wowed, but that's a random occurrence. I much prefer darker-haired men.

For a large part of my life I was all about the boy next door look. Clean cut and handsome. I had a junior high math teacher who exemplified this look and who was positively distracting in his khakis. I remember watching his baseball trained ass wiggle as he wrote out math problems on the chalkboard. My distraction may be why I never made above a C in his class. Oh, Mr. Eckert...

I also found my interest in beefy musclemen around that time. My fantasies included adventures with huge stacks of hard beef. I even expiramented with drawing them. My art was actually quite good for an amateur. I was no Patrick Fillion, but... I felt bad about my pervy sketchings, though, and one day burned them up in the wood stove. Can you believe that? I shake my head over it to this day. I went for the hairless kind of muscle man then, with a near zero percentage of body fat. Hair at the time seemed an impediment to the muscle beneath. I liked my guys rippled and glistening, and, apparently, starving.

This attraction to the All-American guy grew in college to include the football types I worked out with in the gym. But I also became interested in the fit but nerdy guys. A hot guy reading a book with his glasses on stirred my loins. Still does.

My taste now has matured a bit. Pretty young collegiate things are still pretty. Don't get me wrong. But they're not what I find myself attracted to anymore. It has something to do with life experience. A few more wrinkles on the face can be very sexy. A little gray in the hair can make a man all the more attractive, especially if he's taken good care of his body. Last year I played around with a couple of older guys (though, not at the same time), and one of them ranks as the most erotic experience I've ever had. I refuse to name names...yet. Wait for the memoir.

Too, I've found that I rather like a guy with body hair now. Beards may exfoliate my sensitive skin, but they're so hot! And I even like a little fuzz on the bum. That was a major "ew" ten years ago. It's strange how that in particular has changed. Hehe. Fuzzy bums.

Men are amazing. Really. Right down to our often oddly shaped, but adorable penises. Speaking of, I had a gal pal in college who once told me that she thought penises were hideous things. That they were ugly and gross. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My reaction was, if you don't like 'em leave 'em alone. More for me. And then...

But that's a whole other tale.