Authors: Michel Farnac
“I
figured
that
would
tickle
your
curiosity.
I
must
have
been
twelve
at
most,
and
I
had
only
recently
discovered
my
father’s
stash
of
men’s
magazines.
The
occasions
were
rare
for
me
at
the
time
to
get
a
few
minutes
alone
in
my
parent’s
room
to
peruse
at
them
and
masturbate.
One
weekend
afternoon,
my
father
is
away
with
my
brother
and
my
mother
leaves
to
run
an
errand
which
I
misinterpret
as
requiring
at
least
an
hour.
She
leaves,
I
wait
a
few
minutes,
enough
for
her
to
realize
she
has
forgotten
something
and
come
back,
and
then
I
venture
into
my
parent’s
room
and
extirpate
the
magazines
from
their
hiding
place.
I
felt
the
pleasure
coming
as
I
heard
my
mother
return.
Just
putting
the
magazines
back
required
quite
some
work,
but
doing
so
one-‐handed
while
the
other
hand
prevents
the
phallus
from
spraying
the
walls
with
semen
was
quite
a
challenge,
then
getting
out
of
their
room
and
into
my
bathroom
without
being
spotted,
very
difficult.”
“So
you
had
the
stuff
in
your
hands
while
running
around?”
she
managed
to
ask
between
two
laughs.
“No,
not
at
all,
that’s
what
the
prepuce
is
for.
You
gently
squeeze
the
foreskin
shut
and
it
works
like
a
condom.
No
mess.
Very
nice.
But
doing
that
while
running
around
is
non-‐trivial.”
She
had
never
known
intimacy
with
an
uncircumcised
man
and
had
long
held
this
very
American
view
that
the
circumcised
version
is
the
more
natural
one.
Upon
learning
that
Michel
was
not,
she
had
done
some
research
and
had
arrived
at
a
more
nuanced
position
on
the
topic
and
now
was
rather
fascinated
by
what
the
other
version
was
like.
He,
of
course,
came
from
a
world
where
this
was
a
condition
generally
considered
a
religious
feature
or
arrived
at
by
accidental
medical
necessity.
This
last
is
why
Michel’s
cousin
had
been
circumcised
at
the
age
of
twenty
four
subsequent
to
the
tearing
of
the
foreskin
due
to
a
very
unfortunate
encounter
with
a
hastily
closed
zipper.
Michel
had
explored
the
topic
with
his
cousin
and
with
a
close
childhood
friend
of
Jewish
faith,
and
had
come
to
hold
some
pretty
firm
opinions
on
the
topic
of
circumcision,
the
main
one
being
that
one
is
better
off
as
one
is
born,
whether
male
or
female.
He
understood
well
that
this
view
would
have
been
simpler
to
hold
in
a
world
where
certain
ills
did
not
exist
but
felt
strongly
that
latex
was
the
only
real
answer
to
unbridled
behavior
(this
un-‐poetic
aside
was
intended
only
to
illuminate
his
effusive
championing
of
the
uncircumcised
cock).
“Oh
good
heaven,
no!
Well,
since
you
decided
to
get
me
started
on
the
topic,
here
goes.
It’s
all
about
pleasure,
you
see?
I
mean,
look,
I’m
a
hedonist
and
an
atheist,
so
I
can
only
view
with
suspicion
any
religiously
mandated
mutilation.
And
sure
enough,
the
main
effect
of
it
is
to
reduce
pleasure,
its
potential
and
its
intensity.
You
can
view
that
as
a
coincidence
if
you
want
and
talk
about
hygiene
until
you
are
blue
in
the
face,
but
it
will
be
hard
to
convince
me.
First
of
all,
as
anyone
who
remembers
it
will
tell
you,
it
is
painful.
And
by
the
way,
all
of
this
so
far
holds
for
both
males
and
females.
It
is
very
painful,
and
for
several
weeks,
in
fact,
months.
For
the
male,
it
is
bad
enough
while
you
scar,
but
after
that
the
second
ordeal
begins,
once
they
take
off
the
bandages.
Then,
the
tip
of
the
cock
is
exposed,
typically
to
the
gentle
friction
with
your
underwear
normally
engendered
by
standard
motion,
like
walking.
Well
that
is
enough
to
give
you
an
erection,
which
in
turn
makes
the
top
of
your
cock
more
sensitive,
which
eventually
makes
the
erection
painful.
And
I
mean
really
painful.
It
can
be
months
before
the
penis
is
numb
to
the
sensation.
This
is
like
priapism.
We
are
talking
real
pain
here,
especially
since
there
is
fresh
scar
tissue
there.
So
the
notion
that
it
is
OK
to
do
that
to
babies
is
really
strange
to
me,
you
know?
I
mean,
obviously
the
discomforts
are
greatly
multiplied
for
an
adult,
but
still,
it
does
not
strike
me
as
a
nice
thing
to
do.
But
he
point
to
be
made
much
closer
to
our
main
topics
of
preoccupation
is
the
obvious
long-‐lasting
aftermath
of
the
procedure,
which
is
that
it
desensitizes
the
male’s
most
erogenous
zone.
It
is
a
pity.
There
is
no
other
word.
A
pity.”
Since
it
makes
pleasure
harder
to
procure,
it
can
make
the
erection
last
longer,
and
it
can
make
it
easier
to
start
up
again,
because
the
tip
needs
much
less
time
to
shed
it’s
oversensitivity
after
the
orgasm.”
“Yes,
exactly.
They
seem
to
be
able
to
put
up
longer
and
more
physical
performances
than
their
European
counterparts
on
average.
Mind
you,
there
are
guys
that
hold
their
own
on
both
sides.”
“I
wouldn’t
know”
she
quipped.
“Oh
well,
of
course,
you
wouldn’t
know
any
of
the
European
stuff…!”
Quickly
the
topic
turned
to
her
knowledge
of
European
film
which
was
indeed
based
in
different
genres
than
the
one
Michel
had
in
mind
in
making
his
colorful
multicultural
comparative
analysis.
She
liked
the
movies
of
the
French
new-‐wave,
the
Godard
and
Truffaut
films
of
the
sixties,
the
intensity
of
them,
but
also
the
psychological
thrillers
of
Deville,
though
she
clearly
had
a
bias
for
the
more
sentimental
vein
and
some
of
the
work
of
Rohmer
still
made
her
knees
clearly
wobbly
(pun
intended).
She
was
fascinated
by
the
emotional
highs
that
could
be
achieved
with
simple
situations
if
the
protagonists
were
up
to
the
task.
She
liked
the
story
as
pretext
for
emotion
rather
than
the
very
American
story
as
a
pretext
for
action.
Not
that
she
rejected
the
physical
performance
of
the
American
actor,
but
she
felt
that
the
early
champions
of
the
genre,
Brando,
Newman
and
of
course
Dean,
had
exhausted
much
of
the
reservoir
of
freshness
that
stood
at
the
base
of
the
style.
This
piqued
Michel’s
interest
greatly.
“It
is
revealing
of
your
taste
in
men”
he
explained.
“No
it’s
not,
my
taste
in
men
is
you!”
“Very
kind
of
you,
but
I
think
saying
that
eludes
a
level
of
subtlety”
“Your
way
of
saying
I
am
wrong?”
“Absolutely.
You
see,
there
are
several
levels
at
which
we
operate
when
it
comes
to
taste.
There
is
what
you
think
you
like,
the
abstract
vision
of
perfection
that
comes
to
mind
unhindered,
and
this,
to
me
is
not
very
interesting.
Then
there
is
the
bottom
layer,
which
is
what
you
end
up
with,
and
this
has
more
to
do
with
accidents
and
mistakes
than
choices.
I’m
sure
that
you
like
your
husband
and
that
you
are
quite
devoted
to
him,
but
I
would
bet
anything
that
he
is
not
your
type.”
This
line
of
talk
made
her
a
tad
uncomfortable,
of
course,
yet
another
case
where
Michel’s
openness
and
honesty
came
at
a
price.
Michel
was
spot
on,
not
because
he
knew
so
much
about
her
that
he
could
guess
every
detail,
but
simply
because
he
had
an
understanding
of
the
human
condition
that
went
a
bit
beyond
the
ordinary.
It
was
not
a
judgment
that
he
was
casting
on
her,
but
an
observation
of
the
state
of
things
most
people
find
themselves
in.
“It’s
just
that
usually,
when
a
guy
asks
a
girl
if
she
wants
to
have
sex,
it
is
not
because
he
wants
to
spend
the
rest
of
his
life
with
her,
it
is
because
he
wants
to
have
sex.
And
if
she
is
crazy
enough
to
say
yes,
then
he
is
in
a
bind:
there’s
one
that
said
yes!
Maybe
he
should
quit
while
he
is
ahead!
Why
the
girl
says
yes,
I’m
not
sure
I
understand,
but
for
the
guy,
it
tends
to
be
straightforward.”