Every man has a hairy man. Robert Bly wrote of the hairy man in his book “Iron John.” Soon after reading this book I was visited by my hairy man in a dream. I was inspecting 18 wheelers in a truck yard. I went into one of the buildings to have a cup of coffee and he suddenly appeared. His body was very large, in a pair of bib overalls with a thick hairy chest and a huge package, but it was clear that he could morph himself into anything that he wanted, with or without hair. With each breath he took, his entire body would enlarge and contract. His head was at first very large and then much too small for his body. Sometimes with a big head of hair, other times bald. The one real constant was his huge crooked tooth smile. A knowing smile that was at once frightening and comforting. Comforting because my hairy man is no stranger. He is very much who I am without all the ridiculous notions of masculinity placed on men by this sexually (and otherwise) repressive society. All at once, with that same shit eating grin, he unzipped his pants and a giant penis came telescoping out at me. I was pushed down and completely immobilized by his cock on my chest which had pressed me down on the couch. He had my attention now. He told me that he was surprised to see me without a cock in my mouth, and proceeded to stuff his down my throat. He laughed and bellowed the whole time.
He told me that I should always be ready to suck a fat cock and that my mouth should always be ready to swallow him. It may seem from some of my writing that I believe all men are gay. I do not believe that, but I do believe that if you take away the societal pressure that all men will experiment with other men. Same goes for women. Your hairy man is the man inside you that has no ties to society. He doesn’t care what your mother may think, or your neighbor, or your wife or husband. He doesn’t care how your sexual adventures will affect your career or your future, or your religious life. He’s just the man inside all men who does who and what he wants when he wants. Sometimes he is you, sometimes he is the person you have hooked up with. sometimes he’s the hot construction worker that you drive by on a summer day and then think about the rest of the week, sometimes he’s the dildo up your ass, other times he’s the crabs crawling around on your nut sack.
No matter what form he’s taking… he’s enjoying himself. You might as well too. Travel along with Garg… my Hairy Man, and I. Sometimes he’ll get me in trouble. Sometimes he’ll just spout something off from his soapbox. But all and all, he’s a lot of fun to have at a party.