Sacred Masculine Desire
From the moment I first felt it in my body, I was told to be careful with it.
This ache.
This pulse.
This heat in my cock that felt like it could tear through the sky.
And somewhere along the line, between growing up, religion, schoolyard shaming, and the quiet rules men teach each other, I learned that this force was “too much.”
Beastly.
Unspiritual.
Something to apologise for.
So I did what so many men do.
I tucked it away.
I laughed it off.
I let women and the world see a polite, softened, controlled version of me…
and I starved the part that was made to fuck, to take, to give.
But this fire… this is not a curse.
It’s not the sign of a broken man.
It’s the seed of life itself.
The masculine is meant to move forward.
To thrust.
To penetrate the world, and a woman, with something that changes her.
To plant more than just a child… to plant truth, presence, legacy.
Somewhere in our so-called “awakening,” that got twisted.
We started to shame the cock.
Shame the drive.
Shame the man for wanting to claim his woman, for wanting to be deep inside her, for wanting to fuck her open.
Yes, there are men who misuse it.
Men who take without reverence.
Men who use their desire as a weapon.
That distortion exists, and it must be faced.
But that’s not what I’m talking about.
I’m talking about the clean, undomesticated current that rises in the healthy masculine.
The kind that makes a man hard just from her presence, not because he’s starving for release, but because he’s overflowing with life.
The kind that says, without a word,
“I see you. I want you. And I will take you with every ounce of reverence and power in me.”
Women feel it when it’s clean.
They lean in, not away.
Because it doesn’t drain them, it fills them.
It calls them open.
And without it?
We get neutered men pretending to be “evolved” while their fire dies in the shadows.
We get a world full of half-dead relationships, cold beds, and women starving for a man who can actually meet them.
We don’t need less male desire.
We need more men who can hold it like a sword of light.
Men who can feel the beast in their blood, and bless with it.
Men who know their cock is not just flesh, but a conduit for the God-fire that made them.
I was born to give it.
Born to fuck the world into remembering what real masculine energy feels like.
And so were you.
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Jack McGregor
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Sacred Masculine Desire
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