“Why don’t you get a vegan cock and balls, and I’ll eat the vegan cum?” I asked.
My spouse was craving baked goods, so I suggested a local donut chain that used to have a cream filled donut called cock and balls. It was funny and daring.
But we live here now; I hadn’t been there in years. It’s more of a tourist thing.
From their website–here’s what the cock and balls looks like.
My friends dumpster boxes of expired donuts to give to hungry people. The idea is the donuts are expensive and fancy, but the company is nice, not locking their dumpster. The unhoused of the pacific northwest are feasting on their special donuts regularly.
I can’t have gluten or dairy. So I thought it would be ok to have a little vegan cum.
“No wonder I don’t understand anatomy since I learned if from a donut,” I said, as my spouse drove us downtown. “Cum isn’t actually in the balls, right? The sperm is in the balls, and it gets mixed right at ejaculation.”
I thought of bodies, what I learned in meager sex ed classes when I was a kid. What I learn later by experience.
“There’s no prostate and asshole donut. Are there?” I asked.
We giggled as we passed by immaculate frat houses, outlying school buildings, sad students, and other things that go along with university excess and the scam that is higher ed.
“Ask for a cum spoon,” I said.
We laughed more. It was a weird vibe, that morning. My spouse parked and went into the shop for donuts. He was gone a while and returned with two small white paper bags.
“Did they have vegan cock and balls?” I asked.
“There wasn’t even a spot for it,” my spouse said.
“Oh, sad,” I said.
“I had to get a big ovary instead,” he said.
I laughed at the round donut he pulled out of a bag.
“They said these kind have the same vegan cream inside,” he said.
We ripped the donut open, and my spouse tasted it happily.
“Wow, this donut looks amazing. Close the donut and open it up again,” I said, taking pictures. “Holy shit–so vulvic!”
I licked bits of vegan cum from a plastic spoon and from the donut itself, dodging gluteny crumbs.
“Did you tell the worker your plan to feed the vegan cum to your partner? Or would that be sexual harassment?” I asked.
“I stopped in the alley and took a picture of the dumpster too,” my spouse said.
“Aw, thank you! Is the dumpster a pink box?” I wondered. “Were there boxes of donuts in it?”
“No–just wrappers and ends of donuts,” he said.
“Oh–customer trash,” I said.
“Yes–customer trash,” he said.
It was a good morning to try new things, try old things, and be a person in the world. I’m so nourished by inner life and Spirit. It’s good to go about the world sometimes and enjoy having a body in so many delicious ways.