obligation oarfish

all of them, in
their heart of hearts,
were still
big-dicked naked teenage boys
howling in the woods inside
their little group of
circle-jerkers,
watching each other spurt cum,
comparing masturbatory techniques,
and volume of cum per ejaculation (oh how they
smirked at the word "ejaculation"--so medical,
so precise in its sound, its form, its timbre),
and oh how they loved to compare each other
to each other,
and how far his friend's load would spurt
and how far his own load would spurt.
oh how those manly big-dicked naked teenage boys
howled and laughed and chuckled and made
delicate babyish gurgling noises
as they drank their
beers and jerked off giddy and happy
and drunk and watched each
other spurt sloppy gooey cum.
**
now, alone in their houses with wife and kids,
each and every one of
these still-at-heart big-dicked naked teenage boys
responsible men taking care of their famililes,
and when fucking their wives had become an exercise
in communication, self-control, time-management,
and self-restraint, if fucking even happened at all,
each and every one of these
sexy big-dicked naked teenage boys,
at heart, is still
a sexy big-dicked naked teenage boy,
each and every one of them,
alone, in his
dreams of the woods, howling
in beer-breathed circle-jerks,
when spurting cum didn't
involve this or that or
the other thing, yes,
when spurting cum,
was just
spurting cum.

--Carl Miller Daniels (2014)