Give me that sexy, ripe male funk anytime!
There was a time when Men were not afraid to be Men.
There was a time when Men acted like Men; when Men spoke like Men, played like Men, looked like Men and smelled like Men.
It is not my intention to prescribe what Masculinity should be like; I simply affirm the right to be yourself. At a time when people are reclaiming the primordial, natural and unalienable right to be themselves, we must emancipate from rigid, vertical and monolithic lists of thou shall and thou shall not’s in order to find our own voice.
Some of us Men are naturally drawn to #manstink, and the Brotherhood of Cock welcomes us with open arms, for we respect and celebrate consensual expressions of male sexuality as positive desires originating within the Divine Masculine. I honestly do not know whether this is something you are born with or a taste you acquire as you go on. The old born or made debate is not very relevant in any case, I believe; if man stench turns you on, you are far from alone:
“LOVE the musky smell of sweaty men… balls, hole, pits… and the ripe clothes they’ve worn. I grew up sniffing my Dad’s dirty undies then moved on to others, neighbors’ dad, college roomies, etc.”
Goodguybadboyfl (2010). Retrieved from the justusboys forums.
I smile when I recall I used to think I was the only sniff freak in the world. Should I share this anecdote once again? I shall do so, if only because it arouses me so much! From my From Mouth to Ass essay on my now defunct Cock is God tumblr:
“I began to realize I was a PIG when I found out how much I loved to smell my older cousin’s dirty underwear.
NOBODY TAUGHT ME SUCH BEHAVIOR or MODELED IT FOR ME.
As a pre-teen back in the early days when internet penetration was minimal and I hadn’t even dreamed porn would become so abundant and available, one day, when nobody was home, I found myself digging through his laundry basket, picking up the funkiest piece of underwear, and inhaling the rank, manly, teenager odors on it like it was the most natural, spontaneous thing to do.”
I imagine myself, now an adult, going back in time to guide, comfort and reassure my younger self, so full of guilt and shame; to remind him there is nothing to fear, nothing to forgive when partaking of the holy sacrament of embracing yourself.
You need no one’s permission to be yourself.
That morning, all alone with myself, with the Universe, I had one of the most profound encounters with the Divine Masculine. Unbeknownst to me, I worshiped Him for the first time then. I fell on my knees as I held the Golden Fleece of His stinky underwear, a forbidden fruit ripe with His Musk. The briefs, I now realize, were not my cousin’s…
…they were God’s.
My heart beat ferociously as I brought His savory, overwhelming stench to my face. It would still take years for me to stop resisting Cock, to defeat poisonous guilt, to happily embrace who I was meant to become, who I wanted to become, but at that time of reality-shattering epiphany, deep inside, I understood it all.
With ego humiliated by the insurmountable power of a lust I had never experienced, I groveled as the concentrated #manstink flooded my nostrils, my mind, my very soul. Greedily did I feast; a starving buck hungrily devouring the primeval essence of Manhood as if deprived from it for a lifetime.
I could not get enough of it.
With the perfume and ointment of Cock, of Balls, of Cheese, of Ass, of Urine, of Precum still washing over me, I realized, without the slightest hint of doubt, I had found myself.
I had found God.
Decades of negative conditioning, one before this first encounter with the Divine Masculine, and two following it, created a deep feeling of shame that I have gradually managed to overcome. Eventually, one “gives in” and embraces as much as possible from one’s spectrum of sexual expression. Not doing so greatly frustrates, sours, and twists Men’s psyche and emotional body.
At Temple Priapus, we understand the process of healing from so much toxicity and negativity towards one sexuality can be a lengthy one, but one that can be better engaged when one counts with help and encouragement from loving Brothers.
We men tend to be pragmatic by nature, so after some rationalization and expression of your feelings, brotherly counseling and intervention will focus on plenty of encounters with the object(s) of your desires. If you too love #manstink, know that there are many Brothers out there who share the same lust; no one understands you better. With arms wide open, they await your return to the fold. Long have you been on a pilgrimage. Come forth and rest in the promised land of your Brother’s ripe pits. Find redemption in your Brother’s heavenly, thick and stinking crotch.
Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.
I am human, and I think nothing human is alien to me.Terence.
Hail the God Cock!