Snipped or Unsnipped

Getting to know a man is always an intriguing experience. It's hard enough to understand what is going on in a man's head, but I particularly enjoy learning his body. I like to run my hands over a man's face, memorize not only how it looks, but also how it feels. Trying to imagine that I'm blind, I feel the face and wonder if I could recreate it from memory.

My interests are definitely not just limited to faces. I like to learn the way a man feels all over his body, where every scar and freckle lies, and what texture the skin has. This also means that I'm interested in what reactions different sensations cause in a man; while there are some basics that all men enjoy, each has a particular preference. This is especially true for usage of their more intimate parts of the body, and this led a rather interesting journey of discovery for me.

Growing up in the northeast of the United States, my early sexual experiences with men were all with men who were circumcised. I learned everything I had to know about pleasing a man sexually, from these boys. I was curious and experimented, trying all kinds of techniques and soon was confident that I knew what I was doing with the male organ.

Then, I moved to the Netherlands, a country of cheese, tulips, and uncircumcised men. Perhaps it was generational, as I am told that the older men are indeed "snipped", but every penis I encountered still had its carrying case. I didn't think this would pose a problem, as once you pull the foreskin back, it was just like any other dick, but I was so very wrong.

I soon discovered that men who still possess that extra piece of skin are much more sensitive on and around the head. While, again, I wrongly assumed this would be a benefit, in fact, they explained that it was too sensitive for the techniques I was using. My bag of tricks was all wrong for this country, and even the continent.

Finally, I asked one of my partners to masturbate in front of me, so I could see what he was doing. It seemed so much easier than what the guys with that attractive, cut member had to do. He grabbed hold of his cock about halfway along the shaft, and seemed to just roll the foreskin over the head of his cock. At long last it clicked for me, it was way easier to please a man with his tool intact.

There was no need for lubricant with a hand job, no need to worry about finding the right grip for friction and an easy slide; foreskin does all the work for you. It's just a matter of grabbing on and pumping away. It didn't make the men over sensitive and didn't require pulling the skin back in any way. And, because it was easier with an uncircumcised man, I could focus my attentions on other actions he might enjoy.

Of course my other skills were important – speed, tightness of grip, and any oral action that accompanied this, but I had figured out the European cock. It was a revelation, and made me see it in a whole new way. I had been raised to believe the circumcision kept men cleaner, and that it made the dick more attractive. But, it does not make a different for hygiene as long as the man showers on a regular basis (which Europeans do, contrary to American belief) and knows how to clean himself.

I soon came to prefer a man who still had his foreskin. I knew how to please him more easily, and these men always seemed so surprised at my skill with the man flesh. I still think it looks funny when the man is flaccid, but I like it now; it looks cute and vulnerable. Now, I see it as a representation of the man, strong and hard on the one hand, but weak and vulnerable on the other. On the whole, the experience gave me greater appreciation of a man's member in general, and ended up giving me a whole new bag of tricks.

Now, when exploring a man's body, I do not have the same judgments as I once did. I'm happy when I find chest hair, pleased by broad shoulders and strong arms, regardless of the degree of muscle definition. But most importantly, I am overjoyed when I discover that he still has that extra piece of skin. It's not much, but it now makes a world of difference. Maybe it's experience, or maybe I really am integrating into the local culture.