"The corona is starting to flare out beautifully, that fat ridge promising to catch on lips or rims once it's fully unsheathed, and you can see the subtle pooling of clear moisture right at the tip where the urethral slit is slightly parted, like it's already drooling in anticipation. No dryness, no matte texture, no signs of ever being cut—just pristine, hypersensitive, lifelong-covered mucosa that's been gliding against soft inner foreskin skin constantly, keeping it plush, dewy, and ridiculously responsive."