Goodbye to Ron

I don’t own a lot of dildos, (although as I come to think about it probably more than most guys in the world), but the ones I do own I’m finicky about. Recently I had to let go of my prize.

The manufacturers claim that the Ron Jeremy dildo is modeled directly from Ron’s schlong. It’s thick, veiny and as any one who has even vaguely heard of Ron knows, long. A quick comparison of the unit with some video footage of the guy seems to confirm that it’s a pretty accurate rendition, if not a direct cast. The balls are especially nice, and there’s a sturdy suction cup at the base.

I got mine in 2003, not long after having moved into my current house. They had just come out on the market and once I heard of the announcement of their immanent release I knew I had to get one. I called up my friend the stealth gainer and conferred. He told me he had already ordered his. We decided that once we’d had a chance fro a test drive we’d compare notes.

I’ve been a fan of Ron’s ever since the late Seventies, when I first noticed him in the films I snuck in to see at trashy Times Square movie theaters. In those days the industry was still based largely in New York, and the guys weren’t all California gym puds, worked out and waxed. There were guys like John Leslie, and Jamie Gillis, who were Italian or Jewish east coast guys who brought an individual, less mechanical feel to their fucking. And there was Ron, who not only had a huge fucking dick, but also was one of the few porn actors who could do comedy and not make you cringe. His look: pudgy, hairy, funny, a little neurotic, set the template for a whole series of guys I would moon after for most of my adult life. As he’s gotten older, it’s only gotten better. Even his recent trolling of the depths of reality television hasn’t dimmed my enthusiasm.

It took about ten days for the thing to show up in the mail. I hate going to the post office, so I had the company deliver it to work, which meant that I spent an afternoon knowing that the cock I’d been thinking about for years was there in a box under my desk. I thought about my co-workers and clients and kept telling myself that it would be a really bad idea to sneak to the bathroom for a quick look. At last I got the thing home. I was so excited to get Ron in me, I battled my way through the sharp plastic packaging, and didn’t turn back when my nose was assaulted by the stinging chemical smell of cast latex. I slid it between my lips. This was it, This was probably as close as I would ever get to blowing Ron Jeremy.

For the next couple of weeks I found a few opportunities for personal time with Ron’s surrogate. Not surprisingly it was a lot of work to get him in my ass, but when he finally sank home, it was like riding to heaven, my mind filled with images of Ron’s hairy belly slamming into me, our sweat mingling. It was hot.

And then after after a while it wasn’t. The hedgehog’s dick went into a box somewhere and then got lost in the shuffle of other stuff around my apartment. I’d didn’t forget that I had it, but it was buried under so much other stuff that I never got around to digging it out. A couple of days ago while cleaning up a bunch of other gear, I found it again. I was more than ready to renew my acquaintance. But it wasn’t to be.

Over the years in neglectful storage, the surface had become unpleasantly sticky. I must have used the wrong kind of lube on it, or not cleaned it correctly. Admittedly, it’s not the best made product – it’s latex not silicone. But that’s kind of in keeping with the whole Ron ethos; it’s low rent, kinda sleazy, sexy but never erotic. The stickiness was like an actual layer of guilt, making me sorry that I had ever bent over for the hedgehog.

I tried washing it off – it only seemed to get worse. I couldn’t quite figure out what to do with it. There was only one obvious solution. I had to chuck it. My tightwad mind rebelled : I’d paid sixty dollars for the thing and only used it a few times. Each fuck had probably cost me over twelve bucks!

I thought that I couldn’t let it go without one final ride. But when push came to shove, I just couldn’t bring myself to grease it up again. Into the garbage it went and now I have to ponder the deep question of whether I’m still stuck on Ron enough to invest in another one.

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