a lesson in values

what does it matter to the world that
this long-legged sexy big-dicked young man
lies naked alone on his bed?
what does it matter to the world
that this long-legged sexy big-dicked
young man explores with fingertips
the super-sensitive zone between
the base of his scrotum and the
entrance to his tight pink
little asshole?
what does it matter to the world
that this long-legged sexy big-dicked
young man rubs his fingertips around
and around the flared-out edges
of his smooth shiny-purple cockhead?
what does it matter to the world
that this long-legged sexy big-dicked
young man strokes
his big hard cock, breathes in and out with
very deep rapid breaths, and then
watches himself spurt
big sloppy gobs of hot gooey cum?
what does it matter to the
world, the solitary pleasure of
this long-legged sexy
big-dicked young man wiping the
cum off of himself with an old
towel and lying
alone naked on top of his
bed, his big dick still hard
and throbbing with the
afterglow electro-histrionics
of post-orgasmic rush,
the light from the bedside crook-necked lamp
still illuminating his naked body?
**
he knows it all matters.
he knows
the way he spurts his cum
matters. he knows the way that
his smooth flat belly looks matters, the wisps
of hair at his navel, the way he breathes,
the way his nipples project
a couple extra millimeters more
when he gasps and pants
with sexual pleasure.
it just has to matter. it all does: the way
his balls sag inside the
thin delicate skin of his
scrotum.
these things matter.
he knows it.
he can feel it with every
fibre of his being.
**
on a sudden whim, he climbs out of
bed and writes a poem
about what he's just been doing.
he leaves out no detail,
even draws a couple-three pen & ink
illustrations -- worth, ironically,
about $100,000 each in the
relatively short span of
just 15 years.

--Carl Miller Daniels (September 11, 2005)