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Photograph Of: Rompryska

An article about my body’s greatest asset or perhaps one of them which it offers in the act of ultimate carnal intimacy.

One of my greatest assets though not due to its size but incredible hardness is my root. It is funny because I never thought anything about this part of my body apart from that it performed all the functions I expected it to, from urinating to fornicating to being used by some ladies for the purpose of oral sex. It did stick to my stomach when it become activated for one reason another, making it for instance hard to urinate in the morning, as it was in this state that it usually awoke.

One day however when I was 37, I met and had an affair with a woman who was 26 and told me that my root was not only very big but very hard, the large part I found hard to believe since I had seen while in the Navy, some black boys who really packed a lot and had heard of some being 9 inches or more in size while mine was limited to only seven. I at the time was turned on by what I heard from this woman but considered that perhaps it was something she was only saying to make ours more exciting.

Later the following year, I met a psychiatrist from Lodz, a city in Poland on the internet, we naturally chatted about sex and how it would be when we met to the point that it was already decided by the time we met what and how we would be doing it. This lady I must say was not what I would call beautiful, as her face was common but this I knew from the photos she sent me but she looked like the kind who really enjoyed it, as she told me our “cybersex” had produced in her several orgasms. Body wise she was what in polite terms would be called “plump”, apart from being short but there was something about her which interested me, perhaps it was her red hair which she had not taken the time to shave off her rose. Me, finding out that it in fact was the color of the real flower when I did kiss it.

In all this we even planned what we would be wearing when we met, I for my part would be wearing my Armani suit, I figured if she were going to come such a long way I might as well put on a show. She for her own would be wearing black stockings and strings which in fact she was and I would find out when sitting next to her in a café, which we stopped by for a cup of coffee, as it was while waiting for our orders that my hands explored under her skirt to see if she had kept her end of the bargain as I had given I was wearing my Armani suit. It turned out that she was true to her words as I felt the silk end in flesh before I got to her panties where I would go one touch beyond in to her area of hair.

We knew then as our tongues wrestled in each other’s mouths, after this stroke of genius from my finger which found her moisture that we would go to my office, where I conducted my business in downtown Warsaw and basically do what in popular slang is referred to as “screwing each other’s brains out”. This being precisely what we did, her naturally taking mine in to her mouth as to give it a taste of what her rose would also be exposed to when it finally penetrated her as her finger had done during our conversations on the net pretending it was mine. I of course, did not ask her to remove her stockings during our flight, given I adore the feel of them against my waist as I take on to the act of height. I have even come to believe that those who put on stockings to take them of for sex are either ignorant as to what this garment is for or simply know not how it should be done.

We must have done it for about two hours as this is how many times the one hour CD I put on played itself before we finished, her telling me her orgasms came in triple, which she also said was not as good as her performance during our chats which beat this number by one. Of course like all couples that do it right, we changed positions and place several times; from the sofa to the floor, with her and me taking turns in being on top and some with me taking her from behind.

None of this was new to me, but she also told me that I was extremely hard and I asked her “Aren’t all men hard?” really curious to know if this was a compliment or a fact, specially since I had already been told this by another lover of mine. She then surprised told me that “no”, she had never felt anything as hard as my root, that the way blood went to it was incredible; it felt so stiff in her that it was like it touched every part of her inner body or so she said but I have no reason to believe she was lying as why would she. She even went further in her point saying as a doctor this was something she could attest to as, me passion caused mine to be as it was.

We afterward went out to lunch which she treated me to, after having bought one of the Alpaca sweaters I was selling at the time and though we did not make love again that day or ever meet again, she did leave me with the knowledge that my root was extremely hard. Of course more women have told me this, including my later girlfriend “Rompryska” (the young lady in the poems) and another woman who made my fantasy come when we made love in the opera. Looking back this was not even something I ever asked any of these ladies, as they told me without needing a question from my part which makes it that it must be so, I however did ask my lover (whom I dedicated the poem “Rusate” to) and dentist; who did confirm what all the rest had said.

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