Do Women Get Nighttime Wood? Today’s Mooner Needs To Know


So. I’m still mired in the nighttime poop habits of a partially-trained dog. Yoda, the bugeyed half Chihuahua/half whateverthefuck, still needs to get up in the middle of the night for bathroom trips. I’ve got him peeing in the sink, but his nighttime routine includes pooping, so I cart my naked and groggy carcass outside with him each time he jumps from the bed and shakes himself silly the way dogs do it.

Since I need to pee almost as many times nightly as the little dog, we just pee together when I take him out. I have a patch of well-tended lawn that sits in the courtyard off my wing of the ranch house. I always have night wood when I’m awakened, so I’m forced to go through the frustrations that are night wood pissing.

OK, let’s back up a bit and discuss night wood for whomever (whoever) reads my silly shit without either direct or indirect night wood knowledge. Sexually matured males of our species get boners when they sleep. Said night wood, also called dream wood, nighty-night boners or Marilyn Monroe midnight hard ons, are typically based on either/and two physiological happenings.

The first is to stem urine flow when a full bladder lacks the ability to awaken the male person. An auto-immune response to wetting the bed, a guy’s body creates a hard on to keep the urethra pinched tightly shut. The second pecker stiffening comes about as part of sexual dreaming. These woodies are prelude to wet dreams, middle-of-the night booty calls and such.

Having said all of that, the informative point is this. When you’ve got a full bladder and a rock-hard stiffie, taking a leak is problematic. You can’t get the first drop to drain by force or rubbing or threatening. The only way is through relaxation. You are required to get your pecker to relax enough to release your pee line for action.

Every adult man has his own methods to get relaxed. Me, I use yoga breathing, humming and mental image techniques. I close my eyes, imagine I’m sitting submerged in a steaming hot tub, take clensing breaths and then hum. The hum needs to be a slow, deep rumbled “Huuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmm”[.]

Other than lost sleep and interrupted dreams, this Yoda pee business hasn’t been especially problematic. As long as I can pee as quickly as he does, we each wet our portion of grass and head back to bed. When I can’t get relaxed in time to match Yoda’s progress, I just walk my naked ass back inside and go stand at the sink and finish my business. Until last night, none of this was a problem.

Have I told you that I was a serial sleep walker from childhood until I was well into my thirties? First discovered when I was four years old, my sleepwalking was a routine occurrence until I graduated from college. Streaker Jones and I lived together during college, and he made me dress for bed in accordance to the weather.

“Ya don’t needta catch a cold at finals time, Mooner,” Streaker Jones explained to me. “Jist dress fer skul and yer ready fer classes when ya take off.”

Good advice from my best friend. I often awoke, groggy and confused, in the strangest places when I was at the University of Texas. But I was always dressed appropriately and missed no classes for inappropriate clothing.

My sleepwalking was discovered when Gram took her favorite ostrich skin dress boots from the hall coat and boot closet to wear to a dance with Granddad. She stuck her foot into the left boot and said, “What tha fuck?”

She pulled her wet foot from the boot and sniffed it. “OK, who’s the smarty mallet done pissed in my good boots? I’mma kill somebody.”

Turns out it was me. I was captured by Gram after her third night staked out near the closet. Seems I was sleepwalking around and taking a piss wherever I managed to land. I was too young to get night wood and I didn’t wet the bed.

Do women get nighttime woodies? Do you guys have muscle tightening responses to control your bladders like we men? I’ve always wondered but never investigated.

Anyway, we had a big crowd to dinner last night because I cooked goat. I cook great goats and cook them well. Half of good goat cooking is choosing the right goat. Prep and actual cooking the other half. I drank copious quantities of Carta Blanca beer starting from when we cranked up the fire pit and until bedtime. I usually spit cook goat, but BJ over to the Dumb Perignon suggested a pit cooking.

When I finally went to bed I was beer saturated, bloated and fully food sated. I took the guys in to brush our teeth, floss and take a final pee in the sink. Until I awoke this morning, the last thing I remember was Squirt saying, “Good night, John Boy.” Yes, it’s stupid as all shit, but my pet’s and I do a Waltons’ goodnight dealie every night.

The previously-mentioned awakening was as I half stood, leaning against the outside kitchen door, naked as a jaybird. I had goose bumps the size of golf balls covering my entire body and I had a big old nighttime woodie clenched in my right hand.

“Mooner, godammit!” my Gram startled me awake. “Iffn you pissed in my good boots I’mma blast yer ass, an’ good.”

“Huh?” It was all I could muster.

It took me forty-five minutes to get the swelling to go down enough to pee, and my back hurts, my feet are swollen and I still can’t feel my pecker.

Now I’m late for my early psycho therapy session. Manana, y’all.

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6 Responses to “Do Women Get Nighttime Wood? Today’s Mooner Needs To Know”

  1. Mooner, my darling husband to be, you think up some of the weirdest fucking shit, I swear to Bejeezus!!! I can only speak for myself, but the answer to your question is NO. Women do not have a built in “plug” to stop the flow of urine in the middle of a dead ass sleep. The only thing that happens (if you DON’T wake up in time to cart your ass to the toilet) is you piss the bed. Yeah. I’ve done it. I was even so cognizant (in my dream) that I had to pee, I actually dreamt that I was on the commode taking the actual leak…until I woke up in a puddle of warm, only to realize that my bed was NOT a loo, and I was laying there in my jammies and NOT sitting on the pot! Talk about REALLY being wet. Only with piss. And NOT in any way possible, full of “delight.”

  2. Squatty says:

    Confession here… I almost always squat to piss if I’m in the house. Not that THAT has anything to do with the moniker Squatlo (it was my first dog’s name) but squatting to piss makes the relaxation and downward pointing issue of pissing with a boner a little less awkward (which is one of the only words you’re going to use that has two W’s in it… and Reck, don’t start in about your WeedWhacker)
    Squatting to piss has several advantages. First of all, if you’re inebriated, it helps with the aim and splash problem. It’s like throwing a rock out of a boat and missing the lake… hard to do. If you’re dangling over the water, it’s hard to miss.
    Second, if you’ve really got a raging boner and need to piss, as is often the case with men in the middle of the night or after sex, other than standing on your head and getting your aim right, it’s not all that easy. Women would never understand the problems we have to deal with with these things.
    Third, or C, I’ve found few women who don’t have a “thing” about toilet seats. They all seem to insist that we raise them when we piss, lower them when we’re done. They, on the other hand, don’t touch the damn things because they’re nasty and not their problem, apparently. If a man leaves the seat up to avoid a stray dribble and his female companion doesn’t notice the seat is up before plopping her ass down into the water, that man is on borrowed time. If he leaves the seat down and doesn’t mop up before he leaves the bathroom, again, shit creek paddle free.

    I once offered the following solution to the seat issue and was voted off the island by both men and women at the time. Why not require EVERYONE, regardless of gender, to put both the seat and lid down after finishing their duties? That way everyone involved has to raise something to use the can, and everyone has to lower something when they’re done. Shared sacrifice.

    Watch the women respond with absolute indignation at this suggestion. Been there, heard it, got an earful.

    You can’t make ’em happy. Best you can hope for is horrible, and hope is all we’ve got.

    Heavy sigh…
    Mooner, Reck’s right, you write about weird shit…

  3. admin says:

    Reck. From the sound of your response, we need to do some careful, and thoughtful, scientific evaluations. Quite possibly we could make a medical breakthrough.

    We could start by having you send me some photos of your afflicted areas for my purusal, er scientific study. Maybe we will invent a new product that we can sell to Kimberly-Clark. My initial thoughts are focused upon a rubber-tipped tampon.

  4. admin says:

    Squat. I always wondered about your name.

    Women really don’t understand the difficulties we have with manhood. They get all consumed with their periods and cramps and baby-birthing and reproductive cancers and second-class citizen status and all of that shit.

    None of that holds a candle to what we deal with when dealing with our peckers. Peckers are more trouble than a three-year-old with ADHD, a belly full of dark chocolate and coffee, can of red spray paint. The first time a woman gets and unwanted boner in high school gym class, or Mrs. Richardson’s English class while standing up by the blackboard reading from Catcher In The Rye, and she’s forgetting all about staining her white pants in seventh grade.

    I do like your seat and lid solution, and very much. Let’s invent an auto-close system that also wipes with a sanitary cloth before closing. We can have a second cloth wipe the lid as an upgrade.

  5. SQUAT!!! You are my HERO!! I also vote for seat down, lid down…for BOTH sexes! But, I’d be a total miscreant if I didn’t admit that sentiment was first borne from the need to keep my very first dog, Alex, from drinking out of the toilet. I loved that dog more than life itself, but I still was not trying to accept his kisses after drinking out of the john. So, i started putting the seat and the lid down, and required it from anyone who shared the same quarters as me from that point on, so it’s still in effect (and the hooli is trained accordingly so!!).

    Mooner, darling…you want pictures of the pissed on bed?! Anything for you…next time I piss during my sleep, you will be the FIRST person to get a picture of the wet spot….

  6. Squatty says:

    Damn, Reckem, I don’t believe I’ve ever been cast as the hero before. Might have to read up on how it’s done.

    And to think I got this promotion by closing a toilet lid! Shazzam!

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