Y’all probably don’t know, but I got scars on my dick
My dad was a firefighter and he always parked work shit at our house. Cool ass trucks and cars, fire fighter gear and once even a metal slab that they washed dead bodies on. I used to wonder why this sink didn’t hold water; it had one lange hole at the end.
Didn’t get it till when I was about 23 and I had to be in a morgue to report on a dead man who had washed up on a riverbank. He was lying on the same sink.
Dad brought home morgue shit!
So anyway; one time, when I was six or seven years old, dude brings home a firefighters staircase. It had a steeringwheel type crank, that you turned and then the staircase would go up!
Nicest thing to play with when you’re six seven. I sat on the steering wheel thing and swiveled around on it wheeeee!!!, like children do in an office chair
And then my dick skin got caught in the screw thread under the steering wheel thing.
I think I wasn’t wearing underpants and my thingie was hanging out of my shorts.
It bit two or three little chunks out of my whillie. Chip chip!
Blood all over
And I screamed so hard the entire neighborhood knew that I had just been bitten in my dick by a firefighters staircase.
Come to think of it, nobody chastized my dad for bringing that shit home and putting me in danger.
One time, after I sliced open my fingers on a sharp chisel he had lying around, he said “I told you not to touch my shit!”
Dude I’m 4!
This was early 70s so people figured they let children play around dangerous shit so they can have accidents and grow character.
Everything was better back then.
Children today are pussies.
I love pussies.
They rushed me to the medical station in the village and we had a male nurse there back then. Stocky guy who always wore signature quayabera shirts and a Dick Tracy fedora hat.
Dude sowed up my lil willie beautifully, taped it up with dressing and sent me home.
I didn’t have to attend school for a few days … and I was good with that. Children back then were merciless; can you imagine how much I would be teased walking around with that dressing bulge behind my zipper?
As I grew up my mom always told me that every time she would meet the male nurse anywhere, the first thing he always asked was “how’s that little boy of yours with that sowed up dick?!”
And it would crack him up to ask that question.
How’s that boy with the cut up dick?”
It musta been the highlight of his career. The warstory he probably told his colleagues and friends at all houseparties. “One time I had this kid who came to the station with a sliced up dick”. And laughter would ensue.
I always told my mom to tell him then that I joked back that he was the last man to ever touch my dick with his hands, you dick toucher!
And that he obviously fixed it properly, prove being three beautiful boys that I planted on this earth
I don’t know if she ever did
And she won’t anymore as he has passed on now.
But I guess he woulda told her to tell her grandsons to come kiss those hands that saved my willie and enabled me to conceive them.