The Disobedient Muscle

If you haven’t already realized, erections are a phenomenon, just like Ronaldo, meteor showers, typhoons and recessions. They happen quickly, they never last, are beyond our control and sometimes at the wrong times.

It is the one disobedient muscle in the male body. If females had a disobedient muscle, then that would be the mouth, because they can’t seem to stop nagging.

The thing about erections, is that it is only socially appropriate within the context of purposeful sexual stimulation. By that I mean foreplay, lap dances and watching porn – or Animal Planet for some.

And yet, instinctively or accidentally, occurrences do happen unintentionally and whether it is appropriate is really up for debate. Like, is it okay to have an erection during a massage? Is it actually complimenting for the girl – or guy – who is giving the lap dance? Can men actually have an erection during a waxing session?

I always believed that erections are also a formality, a gesture that replaces verbal appreciations. Like if you are being showered or an unprofessional massage, it would be a commendation of sorts, like, ‘Hello, love what you are doing. Keep it up’.

Then sometimes at a less appropriate time, it can be embarrassing or misleading. Imagine walking into the men’s shower with one. Once, LB and I went for a spa and this was a legitimate one in all sense of the word, right down to the ugly masseuse with powerful fingers that could knead a wrecking ball into a Picanto.

When we came out,

LB: “Did you take off your shorts?”
Me: “No. Why?”
LB: “I asked her if I needed to take it off and she said anything, so I took it off.”
Me: “What?!”
LB: “Shit, I don’t think I was supposed to.”

I understood then that erections can also make women embarrassed.

And yet, when we truly need one, it is sometimes shrunken beyond the call of lust, passion, salacity and marital needs. And it’s always pegged to an excuse like fatigue, inebriation, guilt and fear of armpit hairs and cellulite.

Then sometimes, the penis just fails to respond for the strangest reasons, even against the better advances of a blowjob, cleavages or Maggie Q.

It doesn’t erect on cue, you can’t force it to, though it’s a lot easier to kill one. If you look at it objectively, it’s quite possibly the most important muscle functionally, unless you are a Whale, then that would be your mouth and you don’t need a penis to begin with either, unless it’s to pee.

We’ve been in those situations before. For the men, you’ve experienced it and for the ladies, you’ve seen it – or felt it. The one where she wants it and you can’t. The one where you want to but can’t. The one where you need to but it won’t. The one where you’re not supposed to but you did.

Sometimes I wished it was just as simple as flicking your fingers, because there is no willing it and the pressure to perform only exacerbates the problem. Men have it tough, which now validates my new found salute to gigolos.

Think about it, female prostitutes only need to lie there, lube up, moan for your pleasure and if they are really service-orientated, tell you how great you were. For the male prostitutes, it puzzles me how sex is remotely possible if the customer is a troll.

Is the miracle blue pill truly capable of even conquering repulsion and self-integrity? Can imagination really be such a motivating factor for the erection? Is it unprofessional if they request their clients to cover their faces with a pillow? Or is everything truly possible under the cover of darkness?

Over lunch the other day, we were having a discussion because RotiPrata was laying claim that he has a penis, capable of erection under all circumstances, and that it was something neither fatigue nor alcohol could kill. So a small wager has been put in place; he has to sustain an erection throughout the boyzillian – all this while WE watch.

Now, this is something worth witnessing.