Betty Dodson with Carlin Ross

Better Orgasms. Better World.

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She’s single and menopausal, and not all that attractive. Most of all, she’s smart and has lived a full life, although she has never married. She has a Ph.D. in a field related to mine, and we can talk shop if we want to. She invites me to her place. We have a lot in common and talk very freely, including about sex.

Because she turns me on, I risk offending her with too much information, and tell her I advocate for the foreskin on the Internet. She’s not offended (I told you she was cool!), but says that she has never seen a foreskin. (“I’ve balled a number of men, but they were all, shall we say, as respectable and educated as I am. And born here, I guess.”) I tell her to go to the Internet (Wikipedia, Google Images, etc.), but add "a picture cannot do justice to how it moves." To which she replies "OK then, let me check out what you’ve got." We go to her bedroom. When my trousers come off, she pulls up a chair and tells me to stand in front of her. She slowly and carefully explores my foreskin, all the folds and puckers, with her eyes and fingers. She slides it back and gasps. She begins to slowly slide it back and forth, saying "you're right about the mobility. It’s really sexy." She pulls the skin forward so that the tip forms a tiny rose, and looks up at me with a cool knowing smile.

After 1-2 minutes of this, she says, with mock resignation, "oh well, I haven't had any for a while." Wearing a silly little smile, she gets up and quickly undresses. She leads me by the hand to her bed and has me lie on my back. She then rests her head on my belly, and goes to work on my penis with her eyes, hands, and mouth. Nature takes its course. I perform cunnilingus on her until she has her first orgasm. When the time comes, I produce a condom. When I ask her why she rolls on quite expertly despite my being uncut, she replies: "I can’t tell you why your extra bits don’t seem to get in the way. But I did get a lot of practice with rubbers in my younger days, you know."

When it's over, she goes back to the chair and asks me to stand again in front of her. She resumes exploring my balls, pubes, and foreskin. I explain where my hot spots are, the places that make foreplay with an intact man so easy. After a few moments, she looks up at me saying:
"You know, we American broads really don't know what we've been missing all these years. That extra skin and the way it moves makes the male package a lot hotter."
I reply: "Most writing about sex is by educated Americans, and damn near every American male educated enough to write about sex was cut at birth. Nearly every respectable American women around our age has never had a lover with all his pink bits. Also, damn few American women can tell that a guy is uncut when he’s hard."

Here I showed her the underside of my penis with the foreskin pulled back, and explained how the foreskin comes together to form the frenulum. I continued:

"So if they were lucky enough to meet an uncut guy, they weren’t aware of it because they didn’t know what to look for. At any rate, I think that a man without a foreskin is like a woman without inner lips.”
“You got a point there. The way that skin of yours cuddles the place where you have sex and pee does remind me of my inner lips.”
“Both foreskin and inner lips raise similar sanitary issues. But let me add that washing under my foreskin every day in the shower is utterly trivial. Recall that when you skinned me back the first time, you neither saw anything gross, nor did you smell much of anything. Now that you’ve seen the light, let your women friends know how you feel, should the occasion arise. Especially the ones who haven't had their children yet. Just don’t mention my name. Do keep our little adventure between us, please."
"Baby, I sure will. And what would you call someone who's discovered what I've just discovered?"
"A foreskin convert, dear..."

I tell her of my long struggle to accept and understand the bit of skin which sets me apart from nearly all men of my place and time. A place and time where no book on sex, marriage, family health, or child rearing said that it was OK to be uncircumcised. Of how most uncut Americans my age are Latino, or were born in poverty or abroad. How it made me empathise with sexual minorities, especially Jews in Old Europe and the intersex everywhere.

We never get it on again. But our future times together are very warm conversationally, thanks to my missionary activity.