MAY&JUN2026 - May Poll Results!
Hey all! I'm excited to post more for you today! We've got our typical essay as well as some Swirl&Cake drawings I did in my notebook while traveling! In full transparency, I'm currently visiting loved ones abroad for my birthday - my host is taking me someplace to see wild puffins, hence the comic strip! Please pardon me, I'll be taking a break from Patreon polls this month so I can get the most out of my trip. Thank you sincerely for understanding - we'll resume in July!
Besty,
Zesty
Essay prompt: What would an ideal "he can’t help himself" situation look like?I’ll take this essay as opportunity to delve into my feelings about overwhelm and self-restraint in sexual contexts. After talking with a few friends, as well as taking a cursory glance at some online resources regarding concepts including dopamine release, anticipation, expectation, and reward, I've come across two terms that seem like fertile ground for exploration: "overflow" and "appreciation." Overflow, as I call it, is an abbreviated version of a term devised by a friend of mine, "horny overflow." This is a state of being so aroused that one gives in to their urges and pursues gratification, including but not always in spite of taboo, such as engaging in public despite the risk of being discovered or going home with an attractive stranger despite unfamiliarity. Appreciation is what I call the sensation of feeling unique, special, or particular to a sexual partner. (The antithesis to this feeling is what I call "being the meat" which is to be treated as a warm body that's functional only for the purposes of a sexual encounter, with no intention or expectation of care or longer-term affection for the individual. This is one of my least favorite and most unarousing situations I ever unfortunately find myself in.)It seems where overflow and appreciation intersect could be someplace worth exploring further in my work, trying to figure out what this sensation I feel is and isn't, in order to further sculpt a recognizable kink from this ambiguous block of arousal. But even more so perhaps, my strongest most immediate and recognizable feelings seem to be those regarding "being the meat." So let's dig into that a bit more here, shall we? I've experienced quite a lot of objectification. People whose interest wanes when I suggest care or consideration, people who don't want a conversation before insertion, no taking out to dinner, or people willing to lick a stranger's knob and pretend they love you until they finish. Earlier in life I might've been horny and insecure enough to “take what I can get” and go through with an interaction like this - these days, I'm not. It doesn't excite me to count bodies or "get it."[Writer’s note: please pardon the following digression!] Like a piece in a museum, the aesthetic experience starts with how you woke up that morning, your ride there, the weather, the ambience, your time with the piece, what else you do that day, and how you get to bed - perhaps a sublime or unique sexual experience can be cultivated from all angles and perspectives without feeling overly clinical or processed. Imagine planning a whole day around a quiet evening with a loved one such that your yummy peanut butter banana smoothie for breakfast, the rewarding sensation of finishing your term paper after months of toil, and a long catch-up call to a now far-off friend from high school enhances the sexual experience such that it's not just a pleasurable point in a typical, humdrum day but a fulfilling part of a wholly pleasant and peaceful day? Or perhaps more orchestratedly so, waking up with a tug on the morning wood but staving off that finishing blow, putting yourself in a headspace you can be consumed by all day until you finally get to interact with that stranger at the bar who winks at you just the right way and makes you feel special, like you're the only one worth their time and energy that evening? I digress, but as usual, I'm letting my stream of consciousness do the writing for me.
Back on track a bit, I recently watched an animation of a mouse and cat (very Tom&Jerry-coded) where the two are sitting on some sort of bench chatting (in Spanish), presumably about how the cat is going to soon eat the mouse until the mouse reveals his huge junk - we then smash cut to the cat slobbering that rodent's knob. I got the impression the cat is determined to do his cat duty and eat the mouse but can't help but betray his self-restraint to “play” with his food. For me, the ideal follow-up is that the cat decides never to eat the mouse so they can continue fooling around together, get closer, yadda yadda.
Both overflow and appreciation play roles here: to me, it seems as though (during the scenes omitted by the jump cut) the cat is overwhelmed with his appreciation of the mouse's particular genital situation and charismatic smirk/disposition, such that the power dynamic completely flips on its head. Further, I must recognize that of the two roles they play in the animation, I identify with both somewhat equally, but perhaps a bit more as the cat: I like to be overwhelmed. I like to be surprised, flustered, teased (within reasonable expectation of payoff and not just torture). This is among the reasons I often portray my characters as blushing with a worried/surprised look and paws raised in uncertainty - despite typically taking a more dominant role in my relationships, I long for a relationship in which I'm appreciated and considered and loved but also they know how to take the wheel and read my face and push my buttons and make me enjoy the process with them more than the product.In summary: overflow, appreciation, anticipation, and “being the meat” are concepts I’d like to explore more often, whether in writing, drawing, or something else.
And lastly, please enjoy some spur-of-the-moment erotic poetry:
The hiss of frothing urinal cakesno wall between me and the husky strangerwas minding my own business until he showed me hisplump and perky, pink head, soft skina perfect tool for a guy in hi-vizheart racing, I shouldn’t but Iwhy do my knees achewhy do my knees ache