Penis Envy Part II

Warning: More talk about sex and many, many, many grammatical errors and unfinished thoughts.

There is another reason I think a penis would be handy besides the whole peeing standing up (which is still high on the list of good things about it). I think quite honestly the sex has to be more fun.

Not that sex isn't fun already. I have some misgivings about giving up my clitoris in exchange for a penis. The clitoris has three times as many nerve endings than the head of the penis does...and as that line from "The Vagina Monologues" goes - Why use a hand gun when you have a semi-automatic? (not direct quote)

However, despite how much I love that part of me (and yes, I really do, it's definitely a good part) I can't really say there is anything sexier and more arousing than a good, hard, cock. Oh I still think girls are prettier and definitely more erotic, and definitely much nicer naked. But there is a certain something about a man when he's erect...and there is a certain something about the erection itself.

Yesterday I got home absolutely primed. I think I was so utterly aroused and needy that my vibes were rubbing off onto others who reflected it back. Every conversation I had yesterday was charged with sex. It sparked. People flirted with me, I'm sure I couldn't help but flirt back. I got tons of looks from normally-oblivious people, I got honked at while -in- my car. My skin was literally tingling with electricity, my muscles kept stretching and tightening all on their own. The air was so thick with sex that I kept licking my lips to taste it. I could have set leather on fire I was so hot. And of course I was flushed red, my nipples damn near tore holes through my shirt and I was simply soaked. All I could think of was going home and throwing myself at my husband.

He had other ideas. No matter how close I got, how much I rubbing my breasts into his back, trailed my wet lips along his shoulder - he wasn't buying it. He made me work - and work hard. Damn near naked, pressing my erect nipples into him, whispering horrible dirty things into his ear, all but humping him to lure his ass into the bedroom - he didn't get it. Of course it could have been that he was tired, not in the mood, preoccupied. That's fine, that happens...but even then I thought I could woo him away from all the day-to-day worries and bring him along to the wonderfully sex-crazed place I was in. I was able to turn men on all day just by looking at them...I couldn't turn my husband on and I was using more than my eyes.

And again, I know sometimes two people just can't be in the same place at the same time. But here's the thing...if I had a penis...I think I could definitely had persuaded him to come with me. My proof, after four hours of working my ass off I gave up, sat down with a fruit-rollup (which I've decided are God's gift to men) and watched some documentary on the making of Star Wars. I had exhausted all that pent up, primed, sexual energy and simply had nothing left. I hadn't orgasmed and I felt no need to anymore - I was just tired. After the show I changed into the boring pajamas (you know the kind every girl has and wears when they intend to not brush their hair and only put oatmeal on their face, eat chocolate, complain about men - I went sans oatmeal obviously), curled up under the covers, rolled over and started to drift off to sleep. Then he did it. He put away the books, turned off the lights and spooned up behind me. We fit perfectly, comfortably. One strong arm wrapped around my neck, one sliding up my stomach to my breasts. His broad chest pressed against my shoulder blades, his chest hair scratching at my skin. Our knees interlocked seamlessly and most importantly my ass nestled perfectly into the hollow of his lap where his hard, rounded cock poked straight into me.

I was his, I was awake, I was wet, and I was his. I kept my eyes closed and thrilled at that feeling, enamored by the urgent way it pressed into me. I mean it was just pressing right...but it seemed urgent. It seems like it has a mind of it's own and it's mind is thinking really dirty thoughts. All I had to do was wiggle a little and it twitched. Sway side to side, it grew. My husband didn't have to say anything, his cock invaded my brain...all I could think of was how hard it was, how nice it felt, how much I wanted to touch it - taste it - fuck it. I swear to god it brainwashed me. It was sending out waves that pushed straight into my mind and clouded everything in there except how aroused I was becoming. It wasn't my husband...he was still...it was the cock. It talked to me.

I know it sounds insane, but I can't imagine any part of a woman that can make such an instant impression. How could two small nipples no longer than a few centimeters compare to the insistence and grandeur of a long, hard as granite dick? You know when a man is aroused...it's easy to tell. There are signs for a woman, but honestly you could mistake a sunburn for female arousal. Sure our bodies pulse...but it's little pulses, not the dramatic, intriguing, hand teasing, leg clenching, pussy-pulsating flicks and pumps of a cock.

Even orgasms are more dramatic and amazing. He explodes, he gets tight and long and hotter and he -explodes-. It's like Hiroshima, it's like Mount Vesuvius. It overwhelms you and then floods you. You're covered in sex, in hot, sticky, change the shape of a city sex. It sticks with you, makes you think of it long after. It's amazing. A female orgasm - an earthquake - fun ride, sorta short, generally breaks a few things, easy to pick up the pieces.

God - no wonder men are so fixated on their dicks. They're just a lot of fun.

And they seem to built for so much more than a pussy is. Even when I'm riled, hot and angry, needy and wild, my fucking isn't that impressive. I don't know if a woman really can fuck a man. Sure I can push and pull, wrap the guy up in me, pump him dry - but it doesn't have the overpowering essence that a good hard fucking from a man has. It's like he's wielding a weapon. It spears straight into me, tears me open. It's that delicious, tangy, violence. Even when it's soft, it's violent. It's a struggle and a fight. A cock invades, conquers, forces thoughts out of my head. It's insistent and overwhelming. I can't form words, I can't register pain or not. My pussy feels it cleave it's way in and the rest of my body answers, no matter what. It drives that idea of sex and orgasm and skin and god and space and time right home. It makes itself bigger than it is just by pushing itself in. And it can push it's way into anything. A cock is perfectly shaped to fit into a woman, or a hand, or a mouth. A woman doesn't fit into anything...sure a tongue can touch a pussy...but you can't slid it in, overwhelm someone, get into their body, get into their soul. A cock can...it just pushes and pushes till it invades everything and leaves it's essence behind. It can slide into a mouth easily, stealing away breath, becoming a kind of sustenance, it can replace essentials for a minute - and it always leaves you begging for more.

A woman can't do that. All our tricks and moves are psychological to physical. We can take a man in hand, pull him, surround him, invade his mind till we can find his body. But a man...a man can invade a body and the mind can do nothing but follow along.

I want that. I want that violence sometimes. I want to be able to force and invade. I want to drive my point home, figuratively and literally. I want to fuck him. Not just pumping onto him, but into him. I want that power. To leave my essence with him so he knows how much I want him, love him, need him. I want him to know instantly, without mixed signals and interpretation, that I am ready for him. I want to feel what that's like...to carry that kind of control with me all day long.

I can imagine now why men are so concerned with their dicks. Imagine what they command, what they can do in a moment, and how few of them know how amazing it is to a girl like me. How infatuated I am with the idea of it, how my mouth waters at the thought. How much I want that. Yeah...I envy it.