Jack-in-the-Box

I remember the night when I was either 4 or 5 years old, and my Nonna came to live with us after Poppi died.  In particular, I remember climbing up into her lap and , even though her eyes were sad, she had this beautiful smile on her face, as she presented me with a toy that was once my Pop's, from when he was little.  It was this ugly tin box with scary clowns painted all over it and a little metal handle on the side that turned.  At first, I looked at her quizzically, as if to say, "What the fuck...?"  She patted me on the head, and told me to turn the handle, and I'd get a great surprise.  So, I start turning the handle and I'm looking at the top of the can, and I turn it some more...nothing.  Nonna just laughs, and urges me on.  So, on I turn, face right up on the can, sometimes fast and erratic other times slow and wonderingly, as if, come on already!  

SURPRISE, my Aunt Fanny with an ass full of Uncle Dick, next thing I know this giant clown pops the fuck right out of the top and smacks me right in my goddamn nose.  SHIT!  (Ok, I didn't actually say that, but if I would have had any poop in me at all, I, sure as shit, would have crapped my pants right there where I sat).  Nonna just starts cracking up and shaking me all about on top of her lap, and, falling into her mirth, I curbed my desire to cry and started laughing right along with her.  From that night on, I have always loved that toy.  It was one of the last times I saw her laugh, as she got sick herself, but her wonderfully contagious sense of what's funny stays with me to this very day.  

So, understanding this about me, is it any wonder that now, all grown up, I get a horrible grouch in my pouch at the first sight of my new favorite toy? It is, of course, the wonderfully erotic Cock-in-the-Jock, with a rock hard cock just a throbbing and a pulsing to pop right the fuck out and smack me in my my goddamn nose?  

Sorry, no surprise here.