Jack’s Naughty Bits: Tom Wolfe, A Man in Full

Pin it

Jack's Naughty Bits

I grew up in a farming community, I can’t say I’ve had much exposure to
copulating animals. The closest I ever really came to living livestock was a
comically disastrous attempt at cow-tipping. (It was three a.m., but they were
all wide awake and most un-tippable. We left with soiled boots as our only
satisfaction). There was, however, a kid on the next block who had supposedly
boffed and thereby offed his pet kitty, but even at the time I doubted the
veracity of the rumor. I’ve always been a firm believer that humans are the
species to have sex with, at least if you’re a human. But this much I am willing
to confess: I recall vividly Melville’s description of a whale’s penis (“longer
than a tall Kentuckian”) and I did once write a prose poem about having seen
rhinoceri having sex on TV. It was a very sordid affair. In effect, the
lumbering male put his front legs up on the rump of the impassive female, then
out came his enormous, candy-cane red, gnarled, pole-vault-pole-sized schlong
(okay, not quite, but it seemed that way), and he started banging away. The
female remained motionless. He kept it up, his head rolling around like he was at
a Dead show, jerking his body back and forth and frothing madly, foam dripping
down his chest. Finally he shot (presumably) and rolled off her, falling heavily
into the dust. She paused, reaction-less, then slowly walked away without
looking back. Recognize a parable when you hear one?


All these thoughts came back to me when a friend told me I should excerpt
from Tom Wolfe’s A Man in Full. The recommendation came with a
caveat: the protagonists of the sex scene were not human, but equine. But hey, a
sex scene is a sex scene, and I’m no anthropocentrist. To be precise, this scene
is not so much hot as humorous (it’s a prelude to the real horse smut that
follows), and it is most, most informative. So, here’s everything you weren’t
sure you wanted to know about barnyard sex . . .

* * *

From A Man in Full by Tom Wolfe

Snorting, highly agitated, the stallion walked into the stock and right up to
the rear end of the mare. The mare began twitching and rolling her head and
switching her furled-up tail. The stallion’s penis was now a tremendous black
shaft. Suddenly he extended his head and his long neck and pushed his nose into
the mare’s rear end, into her vulva. She tried to kick with her rear legs, but
the hobble straps prevented it. She tried to bolt forward, but the walls of the
stock hemmed her in, and the stable hands held her halter. The stallion kept
twisting his head, rooting around in her vulva . . .


The deep voice of Lettie Withers: “Good Lord, Charlie, I thought this was
the Bible Belt. That looks suspiciously like oral sex.”


But no one laughed, and no one else said anything. The truth was, they were


All at once a gusher of yellowish liquid shot out the rear of the mare. The
stallion pulled back. His lower jaw, throatlatch, and breast were dripping with
it. It was urine, which continued to spew out. The stallion shook his head and
whinnied and started back toward the mare, his penis fully erect, but two black
handlers had him by the halter and were forcing him back, away from the stock . . .


“What’s going on?” asked Howell Hendricks. “Why are they taking him away?”
The other guests closed ranks in order to hear the answer.


“He’s not the stud,” said Charlie, “he’s the teaser.”


“The teaser?”


“Yep. You just use the teaser to get her aroused.”


“And she urinates in his face?” said Howell.


“Yep. Always happens.”


“That’s about the size of it.”


“Terrific,” said Howell. “Reminds me of when I was in high school.”

© Tom Wolfe