The Devil Is In The Details: Erections

Welcome back to my new miniseries of blog posts, The Devil Is In The Details, where I explore sex- and kink-related topics in way more depth than anyone asked for! Today, as you can guess from the title, I’ll be talking about erections and why I love them.

I love my own erections. I came with a vagina and a clitoris pre-installed, rather than a penis, and for the most part, I’m happy about that – my vagina has brought me a lot of joy over the years, and I wouldn’t want to get rid of it even on my most dysphoric days. My clit, too, has brought me a great deal of joy, mostly while it’s been erect. I love starting to masturbate and feeling my clit slowly harden and peek out of its little hood. I find my own erections affirming on my masculine days, but they aren’t so obtrusive or gendered in my mind to be off-putting on my feminine days. Plus, obviously, they’re a lot of fun to play with.

I love other people’s clitoral erections too, of course. Whatever the gender of the person I’m fucking, I love playing with their clit in a way that makes them squirm. I love that clitoral erections are a little bit harder to find and get my mouth around than penile ones, because it makes it all the more rewarding when I find that hard knot of flesh with my tongue.

Penile erections, though – that is, erections happening to a penis – are delicious in their own right. As well as saying, in a way I cannot refute, that I’m sexually attractive, an erection says to me that foreplay is going well. I love how obvious they are, how incontrivertible and, well, solid the proof is that sex is still going okay. (Note: erections are not a substitute for ongoing communication. However, they are a substitute for nervously asking, “Do you fancy me?” or “Is this neck-licking thing doin’ it  for you?” dozens of times during a single fuck.)

I also love the sensory experiences an erect penis can provide. There’s the halfway-there erection that gives way just a little under your fingers, the tissue springy but firm. There’s the rock-solid erection that twitches in your mouth (did I mention how much I love to put anything in my mouth? Never lend me a pencil.) and which shoves any foreskin out of the way, just inviting you to roll it back and forth over the head of a cock with your hands, your tongue, your tits…

Ahem.

Then – and this might be cheating – there’s the taste of an erection. It’s not just the texture of my spit, mixed with precum, on my tongue, against a dick – a unique sensory experience, the only word for which is “slick”. Erect dicks taste different to flaccid ones, at least in my experience, which might be because of sciencey things to do with pheromones or precum (which I did once write an entire blog post about – I fucking love precum), or which might just be to do with the magic of having a hard dick in my mouth. Either way, erections taste hot and human and different on everybody, and the sight of an erection immediately gets my mouth watering – what might this dick taste like? When am I going to find out?

I don’t know whether I have an oddly sensitive tongue or an oddly detail-oriented mind or whether this is a universal thing, but I also love feeling out all the different parts of a dick with my tongue – the curve of the head, the slit down the middle, the tautness of the frenulum, all the way down the shaft and then to the balls (which maybe don’t count as part of an erection, but don’t you just love the texture of a scrotum? The way it gives and folds? The fact that sometimes you can feel individual hair follicles with your tongue?).

Oh, and obviously: erections look hot as sin. Dripping precum, hidden in boxers, in the mouth of another hot human – all unbearably hot.

Y’all might have to excuse me. I have blowjobs to think about and an erect clit to deal with.


Keep up with my The Devil Is In The Details series by following me on Twitter, and support my work through Ko-Fi or Patreon if you want me to keep writing stuff that turns even me on!

A (Conditional) Defense of One Penis Policies

Stock image of a single banana on a square white plate, with a knife and fork to the plate's left and an empty drinking glass to its right. The table on which the plate lies is a warm brown colour and the banana itself is ripe, but not speckled. It is supposed to represent a penis.

The One Penis Policy is exactly what it sounds like: it’s a rule within a non-monogamous relationship that (usually) dictates that the vagina-owning party can only be sexually and/or romantically involved with one penis-owner. Usually, this happens in relationships with cis people, where the vagina-owning lady partner is bi, and usually it’s brutally criticised by other non-monogamous people for being phallocentric (that is, for putting the penis on a pedestal) and for diminishing the validity of vagina-on-vagina or otherwise sapphic relationships by virtue of deeming them less threatening, less jealousy-inducing and/or less “real” than penis-on-vagina or otherwise heterosexual relationships.

And I totally understand those criticisms. I do. “It doesn’t count if it’s with a girl” is an icky sentiment which manages to be misogynistic (in that it positions women and their relationships as less important than men) and manages to dismiss female sexuality (in that it suggests non-phallocentric sex acts are less important than phallocentric ones) in one fell swoop. Your penis-owning partner deeming your relationship(s) with women less important than your relationships with him (because he’s usually cis, let’s be real) can really hurt, so a lot of people avoid One Penis Policies in their relationships. And that’s their boundary and their right, and I respect that.

But.

We can’t wash societal bullshit out of our brains. (This is why I still have an eating disorder, Impostor Syndrome about my depression, and freshly-shaven armpits.) Even if we know it’s societal bullshit, even if we’ve read all the books and blog posts and hot takes and we’re logically aware that our feelings are being influenced by external structures, we still have the emotional responses that society has wired our brains to have. So even if a dude desperately wants to discard society’s phallocentric bullshit, he’ll still feel hurt and threatened and the rest of it when his partner interacts with another penis. It would take a lifetime to undo that societal programming.

Phallocentrism also means that an alarming amount of a dude’s identity is connected to his dick. In much the same way as my identity is tied to being a blue-haired autistic sex nerd with big boobs and lots of facial piercings, a lot of dudes’ identity is tied to their dicks – so in the same way I’d be hurt and insecure if my partner started seeing another person with blue hair and big boobs and so on, dudes are hurt and insecure about other penises entering your life. It’s much easier to draw comparison when there are similar traits to compare, and living in a phallocentric patriarchy means that the first place a guy is going to look to draw comparison is genitally. Again, he might be fully aware of how bullshit that is, but that won’t stop him from feeling anxious about you replacing his penis (the part of him that society deems most important) with another, “better” penis.

As for the diminishing of female or sapphic sexuality, that depends on the person. It can be hard to untangle phallocentric bullshit and the bullshit that suggests vagina-related sexuality is less valid, but frankly, if you’re dating someone homophobic enough to state or suggest that “it doesn’t count if it’s with a girl”, the absence or presence of a One Penis Policy is not going to save your relationship and you should run for the hills. If your partner, phallocentric bullshit aside, respects and values your relationships with women, it should show, regardless of whether or not he feels threatened by them. His behaviour as a metamour, the things he says to you in private and how readily he objectifies you, your girl partner(s) and your sapphic experiences are all things to take into account, but that’s a conversation for another day. Simply put, if your partner is homophobic, you’ll know, regardless of penis policies.

So do you have to instate and abide by a One Penis Policy because your partner can’t shake off society’s phallocentrism and misogyny? Of course not. I personally weighed up the hurt and insecurity my partner might feel about other penises against the desire I had to interact with other penises and decided, in the kindest way possible, that my encountering new dicks wouldn’t be worth the emotional labour for either of us. My partner didn’t explicitly veto other penises; he told me that he’d have a lot of difficult feelings about them, and I decided I’d rather spare him those feelings and leave other penises alone. That might change in the future, but it might not, and I’m truly happy with that: I feel like I can ask my partner for contact with his dick, or for penetration, or for any other unique experience that penises offer, and he’ll provide it at my earliest convenience, so there’s very little I’m missing out on in abiding by an unofficial One Penis Policy. And that’s the ideal setup.

All 800-odd words of this was to say: if multiple penises are important to you, you have every right to only enter/maintain relationships that are absent of a One Penis Policy. But if you have a partner whose feelings might be shielded by a One Penis Policy and multiple penises aren’t that important to you, there’s no shame in sticking to an OPP. There’s no right way to do non-monogamy, you and your dude needn’t feel bad for being susceptible to millennia of patriarchal brainwashing, and your boundaries are always, always allowed. Regardless of what they are, I hope you enjoy the genitals you interact with, or that you enjoy non-genital-related activities, to the fullest extent possible, and I hope to see y’all next week for another blog post.