*(Pubes, Penis, Scrote)
“Thanks for leaving your pubes in the shower,” Amy said in the mirror.
“How do you know it’s not your hair?” I retorted.
“They were curly.”
“I just trimmed a little. Like anyone needs a giant bush. See?” I exhibited, “The hair didn’t go down the drain?”
“No.”
“That reminds me,” I brightened up, “I saw a guy with no penis today. Just a giant scrote with a hole where the penis used to be.”
“What do you mean, no penis?”
“He had penile cancer twenty years ago and had it resected. The whole thing.”
“Wait, I don’t get it. Where’s the urine come out?”
“Out of the hole at the top, where do you think?”
“Shouldn’t there be another hole?”
“He’s a guy. We only have two holes.”
“Oh nevermind. I was thinking about the two balls.” That’s what she said.
“Can you imagine,” I waxed penilosophical, “Not having a penis for twenty years.”
I realized after typing that, that yeah, most women could probably imagine not having a penis for twenty years.
“How old was he?”
“Ninety. He had surgery when he was seventy, so maybe it’s not such a big deal. But if he was fifty….”
My mind started reeling. Would all the hotties just be like “meh” to him? Would he be driven to prostitutes and then have to explain what they were about to see? Would he turn into some sociopathic serial killer who could only get off with some bizarre, twisted, vile act?
On the other hand, being male and penis-less would probably save a lot of time, energy and trees.
“I remember back in the ICU,” Amy reminisced, “All those old guys had giant red scrotes. To get the swelling down, we had to use ball elevators, hehee!”
“You’re a ball elevator.”
I think she’s got her eye on you!