Like many people, I enjoy the male forearm. Two rolling pins of flesh swinging energetically alongside a body, or flexing under a layer of coarse hair, or bulging past the edge of a finely-rolled chambray or Oxford—amazing.
When I see a sleeve go up and reveal I can imagine that forearm assembling a laser printer, or holding up a protest sign, or playing piano with one hand and holding out a spoon with the other, saying "Here, taste."A penis, dangling like a bird that broke its neck and has to be euthanized, does little for me, .
But a forearm, a calve, the occasional ear, that stretch of skin you would see if more men wore low-rise jeans—these are treats for the senses.On , the app that I have been using throughout the stay-at-home order.