An Unseen Audience by Kris

A few years back I went to this jack-off party in a motel room that I'd learned about.  I arrived there and while was sitting in my car I noticed a guy sitting in his car sort of nervously looking around.  I went up to the room and eventually the host of the party said they were going to lock the door and get started.  Just as he was about to, at the last moment the nervous looking guy walked in. He was a fairly young, very light-skinned black guy with this beautiful physique and handsome face.  I stripped on one side of the room and saw this guy stripping on the other side. He clearly had the nicest body of anyone there. He caught my eye as he and everyone else was stripping naked but I didn't make any special moves on him. I was surrounded by a bunch of guys and we're all feeling each other and stroking each other. I turned and was surprised when I found him standing by my side. I was really enjoying exploring his beautiful body and he seemed to be drawn to my firm, very hairy chest. I also happen to be fortunate to have a very nice, full cock.


The party went on, some guys were already getting off and finishing up, and I wasn't sure exactly how I was going to get off.  Eventually I realized this guy was sitting all by himself  on the bed, stroking his nice, erect cock, looking a bit distressed. Absolutely no one was paying him any attention to him. I kind of attribute that to his being black. This guy was so hot that's the only reason I can think he didn't have guys all over him. I got on the bed with and began touching him. After a bit, he laid down and I laid myself on top of him. I began kissing him and eventually closed my eyes.  I found him to be a very sensuous kisser.  We were doing some very heavy-duty necking, rubbing our naked bodies against one another, me rubbing my rock-hard cock against his hairless, tight belly. My eyes were closed the entire time as I was focused on his kiss and feeling his lovely body. My cock was getting ready to explode.  I kept rubbing my stiff cock against that firm, smooth stomach.  I eventually shot my wad all over his stomach and chest. 


When I finally opened my eyes, I looked around and found that except for a few guys, all of the rest of the men had finished and were dressed. They were all just sitting around the room and had been there for some time watching me and this guy going at it together.  I was thrilled to think that we were naked putting on a live show for a room of clothed men.


I wanted to help this guy cum but this was his first time at a gay party of this sort, so he was too shy to get off in front of everyone. We went into the bathroom and I gave him a blow job. He shot a nice load.


It was one of the hottest experiences I ever had!

Naked Man at the Lake by bare

Earlier this summer I spent an afternoon at the clothing optional lake where I witnessed something both exciting and disturbing.   It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday and there wasn't much of a crowd.  I was alone and had staked out a spot on the rocks and was  enjoying some quiet time sunning and swimming, listening to music, and reading a book I had brought along in my backpack.  A motorboat  pulled into the cove next to where I was situated and set anchor.  Nothing unusual in any of this, but the driver of the boat immediately caught my attention.  He was an exceptionally good looking man in his mid to late thirties, a small man but beautifully proportioned with a deep tan covering his entire body.  He had thick dark hair with heavy eyebrows and a strong jaw set in a slightly unshaven face that I found startling handsome, but the feature that stood out most prominently was his crotch.  It was disproportionately larger than the rest of his body, kind of like some of the photo-shopped pictures I've seen on the net.  The whole package was absolutely to die for, but it almost looked like it belonged on a much larger body.  Maybe this is one of the reasons I found him so sexually arousing.  I observed that his feet were small, as were his hands, but all matching perfectly with the size of his torso, his butt, and the length of his legs.  And there in the middle of his body was this large, dark and ever so prominent package that exuded a powerful presence.  He was standing on a platform in front of the wheel of the boat and he was completely naked, no shoes, no hat, nothing.  He had a group of people on the boat with him, but because he was elevated in his position of steering the boat and everyone else was beneath him, at first I didn't even notice who his passengers were.  His presence was so commanding, certainly of my attention, that it was only after anchor was set that I began to take note of the other people in the boat.  There were two adult women and an older man with gray hair (maybe his father or father-in-law?) and two teenage boys, probably around 16 or 17 years of age (his son and a friend?).   Everyone was wearing some sort of swimsuit except our handsome, naked sailor.  I imagined that this guy spent most of his time at home naked, surrounded by friends and family, no doubt everyone admiring the exceptional beauty of his body.  Most anyone would simply pale in comparison next to him, such were my thoughts.   The language of his body was one of complete confidence, vibrant health, masculine vitality, highly charged eroticism, and control.   He was definitely the alpha male and he knew it and so did everyone else.  I applied another layer of sunscreen to my face and propped myself up comfortably so that I could observe without being too conspicuous (or straining). 

They were, fortunately, a rather quiet group.  Some boats that set anchor have elaborate sound systems that blast loud music that can be nearly deafening, which I hate.  I don't hesitate to move away from such annoying people.  But this group was different.  The two teenage boys pulled off their shirts to reveal brightly colored speedos and trim bodies and were soon in the water, swimming towards shore where they quickly ascended the rocky shoreline and  achieved  footing on the well manicured trail where they disappeared from view.  Both women wore standard two piece bikinis.

The older man wore a pair of trunks and he too was soon in the water, drifting leisurely on his float, leaving our naked sailor alone with two bikini clad women.  It was at this point in all the activity that I thought I might very well drift off myself, to sleep, when I heard a splash and noticed our handsome sailor had dived off the side of the boat.  The women were busy doing all the things that need to be done for everyone to have plenty to eat and drink.  Our sailor swam around for a while, checked a few things on the outside of the boat, climbed back on board, grabbed a towel and began drying himself off, in full view not only of me but of anyone else who wanted to watch from the water or the shore.  I have seen naked men show off their goods at the lake countless times, and occasionally really buffed guys will preen their bodies almost as though they were on stage.  There was something very different in the body movements of this man.  There was an intense sexuality to him, and no doubt he must have known people were watching, but he seemed so very natural in his movements and without any inhibition whatsoever.  It is hard to describe.  I can almost ascribe god-like qualities not only to his looks, but to his body language.  He was just about as comfortable being himself as anyone I'd seen.   It was just as natural for him to towel dry his shoulders as it was his crotch and ass; however, he did linger a bit in drying his cock and balls, enough so that he soon displayed a semi-erection.   Afterwards he would regularly wrap his hand around his cock or tug on his balls just enough to keep his member semi-engorged and more fully on display.  He made no attempt to conceal any of this from the women on board or the people on shore, and I was happy to watch and admire.   At times the reflection of the sun on the water was blinding.  The sky was intense blue with barely a cloud in sight.   I was actually beginning to fantasize that the man might very well have sex with one of the women on board, before the others returned,  but he seemed quite content to casually masturbate while interacting conversationally with the them.    

It wasn't long before the two teenage boys were back on the boat, and soon after they were onboard the older man appeared in the water on the other side of the boat, still on his float.  It's strange, but having these people return to the boat seemed to prompt our sailor to a new height of sexual arousal.  As they all went about their business of interacting with one another--drinking sodas, eating sandwiches, talking--our good looking sailor continued openly stroking his cock with regularity, getting it to stand at full mast, right in the faces of his passengers.  There were moments when I thought he might suddenly thrust his cock into someone's mouth, it would have been so easy for him to do, but that didn't happen.  My imagination was going in all directions.  He did, however, begin applying tanning oil to his body that made it glisten in the sun.  He was like an artist with his body as canvas.  The women had applied sunscreen generously to themselves and were encouraging the boys to the do the same.  They were all helping each other apply sunscreen to those hard to reach parts of their backs.  Our sailor handed his tanning oil to one of the teenage boys, prompting him to apply the oil to his back.  When the boy came to the man's tanned buttocks, there was no hesitation in generously applying the oil to the tanned butt cheeks.  The real surprise came when the man turned around and faced the teen, and the teen began applying  oil to the area right above his pubes, and again, without hesitation the teen poured more oil into his hand and began applying it directly to the man's cock.  The semi-hard cock quickly came to full mast once again and the young man began stroking it with great familiarity and affection.  After carefully rubbing the man's balls, he began going down each leg, carefully spreading  the oil on to the beautiful tanned skin.  With his cock at full mast, the sailor continued a slow, steady stroking action on his well lubed cock.  The other young man who was sitting right there reached up and took over stroking the hard cock, almost as if he didn't want the other teen to think he had exclusive rights to touch this large symbol of manhood.  Clearly this was not something new, and I was really taken aback as I watched the action unfold.  Honestly, my heart was pounding, and I began to think I was observing something that really shouldn't be happening, either publicly or privately.  At the same time, I found my cock both hard and dripping pre-cum, and I imagined myself sitting on the boat as a young man and playing with this gorgeous cock, and so what if it might belong to my best friend's father or uncle?  Such events were not part of my history. 

During such moments of arousal combined with such utter relaxation brought on by swimming and the presence of nature, I find it easy to lapse into short periods of sleep, deep enough that I enter that place where dreams begin unfolding in my mind, and are often somewhat integrated with what is actually going on around me.  I was soon on the boat that had set anchor below me, and was all alone with the naked sailor.  I was on my stomach, lying across the top of the boat and he was on top of me, his lubed cock slowing penetrating the essence of my sensuality.  Once he had achieved full penetration, he began fucking me and I felt as though the force might push me all the way to ejaculation.   Suddenly a ski jet rushed by the boat, causing it to bob up and down somewhat violently and I was so annoyed I looked up but was only blinded by the sun.  Then reached back to pull my lover's cock back into my ass but but he was not there.  Instead, I found I was still on my rock, alone.  I looked down and the boat with my lover was gone.  Still, I could feel how he had only moments earlier deeply penetrated me.  I had cum.  I walked down to the edge of the water and gazed at my reflection, then dove into the dark depths of the lake.    

Stone's Face by wj

On my way out of the diner, a man stopped me and asked, “Are you Ed Stone?” When I answered that I was, he told me that he had learned of me from Geoff, whom I knew as another regular at the diner. Introducing himself as Tom Williams, he said that, from what he had heard from Geoff, he was sure that I would enjoyed a play date at his houseboat. In the few seconds this exchange took, my face must have flushed noticeably. Geoff must have told Tom about the time he had coaxed me into letting him undress me, inspect me, edge me, and stroke me to orgasm. Standing by the door near the busy cash register, I was caught between the feelings of embarrassment that had me wanting to leave without saying a word in reply and the sudden excitement that came with the memory of the evening at Geoff’s.

Standing there, one particular picture came to mind, that of seeing myself naked standing next to fully dressed Geoff in his living room. My heart pounded and I realized that behind me was a wall mirror, and that, turning then to look, I would think of how I wanted Tom Williams to undress and play with me as Geoff had done, while I watched it all in the mirror. My voice was gone, I tried to say something, but it wouldn’t come out. “Call me,” Tom said, tucking a card in my shirt pocket. He looked very satisfied at my embarrassed response. When I got to my car around the corner, my heart was still pounding, and I sat with my eyes closed, images from the mirror flooding from that evening months before. Tom’s smile, as he had spoken of the play date and my pleasure, came to mind as well. I called him as soon as I got home and left a message on his machine.

He called back in less than an hour. I was again nervous, the fact of which he seemed very aware, and repeatedly assured me that I would have a great time. We made a date for the following Friday evening at Tom’s houseboat down on Lake Union. For days I thought of the coming date, getting hard thinking about it. It would be very different than the time Geoff had invited me to his apartment after we had talked in the diner. Geoff had seduced me, making very polite requests and saying how much he would appreciate my assenting to his unbuttoning my shirt or then taking it off completely. I had enjoyed his voice intoning with assurance that his undressing and then looking at me and touching me was the right thing to do. With Tom there wouldn’t be any coaxing. I had, by calling him, confirmed what Geoff had told him, I liked being undressed, admired, and stroked.

I told Tom that I was nervous, when he met me at the entrance to the dock. “Nervous or excited?” he asked, which made me think for a moment how much I wanted him to reassure me as Geoff had. Was I nervous because I was not eligible or deserving of the courtesies of seduction? I didn’t know how to answer my own question of myself or his entirely. “Both,” I replied. “I am very excited and nervous at the same time.” As we walked down the dock and spoke those few words, I looked at him and his look told me that he was enjoying my nervousness, my vulnerability. My heart was pounding.

Once inside the houseboat, Tom had me look at the two of us in a large mirror as we talked and he undressed me slowly. He went about it rather like a window dresser in a department store window. For a few moments I thought I might calm down entirely and feel relaxed. But the moment he unbuttoned three buttons on my shirt and looked inside, I was suddenly trembling. “Oh, Ed,” he said, looking inside my shirt. “You are naked.” I was in a way shocked by his statement. I wasn’t naked. I was trembling because I was being undressed slowly and was anticipating being naked for him. Yet, he was describing my trembling as my nakedness. My feeling, my desire showed completely. He was right. I was naked.

I don’t know how it was that I didn’t shoot my load in my pants before he unbuttoned them, I was so excited. Somehow Tom knew how to direct my attention and divert me from orgasm. That had to have been it. When I was completely undressed, Tom insisted that I look at my face in the mirror while he told me what we were going to do. For that he had me step closer to the mirror. We had been standing about six feet from it. For this part, we were only about a foot and a half from it. He told me slowly, while watching me watch my own facial expression, that he was going to put a cowbell on my cock and walk me down the dock to another houseboat where some friends of his were waiting for us. I watched my expression change. Tom enjoyed seeing me see my stunned reaction, which then soon began to be mixed with excitement. There was also an expression I didn’t expect, curiosity. I found myself looking at my face as though I was engaged in an effort to discover my own feelings.

I started to say something, but Tom stopped me. “Talk to me, but look at your own face.” he said. “Tom,” I said, “The dock is a public space, I don’t want people to see me, not just anyone passing by.” “Ed,” he replied, “It really isn’t a public dock. Only owners, renters and their friends use it, and this time of day it is pretty quiet. You are with me. I know everyone and will take care of anything. You are going to be glad you did this,” he added.

He put the bell on my cock. It fastened with a ring at the base of the head snugly. I was again very nervous, which now seemed not to matter to him as he was consumed again as the window dresser. Once he was satisfied that the bell was a good fit, he told me to walk around at a normal pace so that he could hear the bell. He explained that, when we went into the other houseboat, his friends needed to know when to look at the doorway. That was why the bell was so important. “They need to see your face as you walk into the room like this.” he told me. The ring on my cock head felt wonderful, even when it hurt a little. The bell’s weight made my hard on stand out straight from my body, except that, when I took a step and it swung, my cock pointed more toward the floor for a second, before bobbing up again. The bell was the right weight.

“Okay, Ed. You’re ready to go.” With that he went to the door, opened it, and motioned me to come with him. I looked at myself in the mirror and looked at him at the door. “Tom,” I said, “Could you look to see if anyone is out there? Your friends want to see me, but other people could be upset. I don’t want to be in trouble.” “It is okay,” he said. “They are waiting to see you, Ed. We’re going down the dock now.” For a moment I thought I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take a step toward the door naked with a cowbell hanging from my hard cock, my face flushed with excitement. But I did it. I walked to the door, looked out, looked at Tom, whose face suddenly bore a distinctly mischievous expression. When I hesitated, he pulled me (clang, clang) out the door by my left elbow and like a child being taken to the principal’s office, walked me down the dock in the twilight to a light green houseboat, the bell announcing every step I took. I felt there were eyes that had come to the windows of the houseboats and were watching me. Tom led me to and opened a side door and then into the kitchen within. To the left was a stairway. “Up the stairs, Ed. They are waiting to see you,” Tom said. “Go. Show your face.”

I went up the steep stairs, the cowbell clanging, and into a bright room, which seemed furnished more like a lobby than anything else, a lobby full of men all directing their attention to me as I emerged to show my face, as Tom put it. And he put it rightly. I showed my face first and foremost coming up the stairs into the room that way. It seemed that my face was the part of me that interested them most, though they were very interested in my hard on as well.

“Where is Sandy?” a fellow in a leather chair asked. “Did Tom tell you about Sandy?” “No,” I replied.  Someone else said, “Tom probably forgot and is getting him now.” I was standing then by the door, or rather the railing at the top of the stairs and about seven or eight feet from the nearest chair. There were five men, one of them very cute. Behind me was a sudden rush. A small Labrador came up the stairs and sniffed my left thigh and hand. “He will lick your balls,” someone said. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” “You will like it,” someone else offered. Sandy did lick my balls and it did feel wonderful. Then someone directed Sandy to what was evidently his place under a table.

On the table were some three by five cards, which Tom, who had come up the stairs after Sandy, picked up, briefly looked through, and handed to the fellow in the leather chair. He alone asked the questions from the cards, questions which were framed so that I had to admit to my desires or describe them. Often, they began with, “Do you want to tell us . . .” When asked, for example, I said that I wanted to tell them about the first time I was naked with a clothed male and how it made me feel.

At scout camp we had been instructed in what to do in case we encountered a bear. The instruction was that the scout was to take off his jacket and, laying it on the ground, retreat slowly in the direction of camp. The bear would be interested in inspecting the jacket, allowing time for the scout to put distance between himself and the danger.

As the straggler on a return from a short hike into the woods, I had heard something on the trail that sounded like a large animal and, having no jacket, took off my shirt, laid it on the trail and slowly retreated. Still some distance from camp, I again heard something that sounded like a large animal. I took off my pants, laid them on the trail and, continued to retreat towards camp slowly. Soon after that, I saw at a distance further down the trail the assistant scout master, a very handsome young man. He was not headed towards camp, but rather towards me. Immediately, as I thought about how soon he would notice me, I decided that I wanted nothing more than to take my underwear off, lay it on the trail and let him see me like that.  I laid my underwear on the trail and continued down the trail toward him. When he saw me he smiled, and the moment he did that, my cock got hard. I tried to pretend I didn’t know I had a hard on, when I explained to him that I had left my clothing on the trail on account of a bear. But he said, “Ed, you have a hard on. You don’t want to go back to camp like that.” Then, confronted with the fact, I told him it just happened when I saw him and that I didn’t think it would go away. He smiled again and assured me it would be okay. He looked up the trail and down, then led me off the trail and around a large tree. “I’ll make it okay,” he said. “I know what we can do.” With that, he rested one arm on my shoulder and began stroking my cock with the other. “Come on, Ed,” he said. “You can do it,” he said and put his lips to my right ear. “Yes, Ed,” he said and kissed my neck. “Do it for me.” Very quickly I came. “It’s going to be okay now,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.” And it was. He took me up the trail where we recovered my underwear and then, seeing that there seemed no sign of a bear, further up the trail to my pants and shirt.

Having told the group of that first experience, I volunteered that one of them reminded me of the assistant scout master, and they all smiled. I said that it felt very good to tell them how excited that made me feel, both to see that one of them looked like the assistant scout master and to tell them that.

I was asked if I would like to swing the bell? I said I wanted to and did. Did I want one of them to dab the pre cum from my cock? I answered that I did want that. Did I want them to open my slit, when they dabbed the pre cum from my cock? Oh, yes. please. Would I like to see myself in a mirror? Yes, I would. I was told to turn around. I hadn’t noticed when I had come up the stairs that there was a mirror on the wall above the stairs. They asked if I wanted to tell them how it felt looking in the mirror at myself. I could see some of them behind me in the mirror, but not the cute one who reminded me of the assistant scout master. I told them that and the cute one stood up and came over and stood next to me. He rested an arm on my right shoulder and put his lips to my ear. “Ed,” he said, “it’s going to be okay.” And it was.

Naked at the Pump by bare

 As a nurse, I often work a late shift, then head for the 24 hour gym on my way home.  When I'm too tired to lift weights or cycle, I unwind in the sauna and watch the guys cruising one another, showing off their boners, occasionally engaging in sex.  I like to shower and head back to the sauna multiple times, and some nights that's my entire routine.  Sometimes I get off, sometimes not.  When I leave the gym I hop in my truck and head for home.  It's a long drive but living in the country in my rustic cabin affords all the privacy I want.  I have to contend with only a few neighbors, most live in manufactured homes they put on their acre or two.  Mostly they are working class folks, minding their own business, raising their families as best as they can.  I pretty much stick to myself and am left alone.  The neighbors know I'm an RN and also that I'm gay and spend whatever free time I can find piddling around in my yard, tinkering with my truck, or lounging on my deck, naked. 

So, I'm driving home one night from the gym and it's past midnight, I have the windows down in my truck, I'm getting close to home and have pulled off my shirt and gym shorts and am wearing my jockstrap and flip flops.  I'm feeling horny and have released my cock and balls from the jock strap and I’m stroking away when I see a car pulled off on the side of the country lane about a mile from my cabin.  I recognize the car as belonging to one of my neighbors, an older guy named Jim who is well known for his excessive drinking.  I figure he's drunk and has pulled over to sleep it off, but he steps out in the road and flags me down.  I come to a stop and he walks over to my window, and I can smell the alcohol.  He tells me he has run out of gas, and could I please take him to the nearest station to fill up his 5 gallon jug.  I tell him I just got finished exercising and am only wearing a jock strap and he says whatever, would I drive him or not?  Sure, I say, hop in.  I make a u-turn on the narrow country lane and head back to the nearest gas station, about 3 miles away.  It's a 24 hour station but no attendants are on duty after 10 p.m.  Jim is definitely more intoxicated than I originally thought.  He stumbles out of the truck and grabs his gas can from the truck bed and begins trying to fill it up.  He has pushed the wrong buttons and his only credit card is rejected.  What the fuck I think as I step out into the night to help him.  I look around and although the gas pump area is brightly lit, there's an embankment that shields it from the highway.  There are no other customers at this late hour.  I insert my credit card and begin filling up his five gallon container.

"Hey dude," Jim says, "you're naked."  He then chuckles. 

"Not quite," I answer, "I'm wearing a swimmer's jock which happens, technically, to be legal attire in this jurisdiction."  (I'm not really sure that's true, but I'd been seeing  guys riding their bicycles on main streets in the city wearing only g-strings and was told that was perfectly legal).  

"Oh," he says, "I didn't know that.  So if a cop drives up he's not going to arrest you for what you are wearing, or, um, not wearing?"

"It's more complicated than that, Jim.  Not all cops know the laws.  Besides, if they want to arrest you they can pretty do whatever they want, especially if you are disrespectful."

"I hate cops," Jim says.

"Well, Jim, they are here to protect us, and by the way, you really shouldn't be driving while intoxicated."

"Fuck, man, I'm real careful. I only had six beers, and I could say the same to you about driving around naked.  What if you got in a wreck?"

"No matter, we're both going to get home safely tonight.  But you owe me for this gas and I want you to promise to pay me back."

"Fuck yes, man, I'll pay you back, I got some cash in the trailer.  I could just stuff it in your straps like you was one of them exotic dancers."   I laughed and wondered how flirtatious he would be when sober, and how soon my neighbors would be talking about my driving "naked". 

Suddenly a car pulls into the station and heads for the pumps directly across from us.  It's a car with three guys, probably late teens or early twenties, windows down, music blaring.  I immediately catch the smell of marijuana.

"Dope heads," Jim observed.

"It's just pot," I reply.

One of the guys whistles at me, but then gives me a thumbs up of approval.  I can hear them laughing but otherwise they don't pay any attention to us.  Now I must admit that Jim has zero appeal to me, but these younger guys are really hot.  I could feel my cock getting hard and pressing against the cup of the swimmer's jock.  As I watched, one of them, a slender guy with long dark curly hair gets out and starts pumping gas. Nice legs.  Another guy gets out and urinates by the side of the car.  Uninhibited.  They are definitely stoned.  As I keep glancing over at them I notice that their front tire is nearly flat. 

"Hey guy," I say, walking over to the cute dude pumping gas. "Did you know your front right tire is nearly flat?"  He takes a look and says "Holy shit."  The other two guys come over to have a look.  

I bend down to check the tire and see that there is a side puncture, the head of the nail  protruding from the sidewall.  "This is a side puncture," I tell them, "definitely not repairable.  Do you have a spare?" 

The driver says, "I think there's a donut spare in the trunk but I've no idea if it has any air in it, but let me take a look."  He opens the trunk, finds the donut, but doesn't really know what he's doing.  His tank top reveals some nice muscles and a hairy chest. 

"Let me take a look," I say.  I'm tired and sleepy, but standing amongst these three hot guys wearing only a jockstrap wakes me up and I'm totally enjoying the situation.  The night is warm and I feel naked and vulnerable, and I like that.  "I walk over to my car and grab a tire gauge out of the glove box.  "Looks like we might be here a while," I say to Jim, who is sitting in the front seat of my truck on the verge of falling asleep.

"Huh?" he asks.

"Nothing," I say, "just go back to sleep."

I check the tire pressure in the donut spare and it seems to be fine.  "Pressure is fine," I say, "but I wouldn't drive for too long on this spare, once you get it on.  You need a new tire." 

"Guys, do any of you know how to change a spare?" the driver asks.  They all look at one another with puzzled looks and I quickly realize they have no idea how to change a spare. 

"Okay," I say, "I'll help you change the tire, but I'm going to need some help.  We need to get this done so we can get the hell out of here."

"Just tell us what to do, man, we don't want any trouble, you know, in case the cops drive by."

"Nobody can see a thing from the highway," I say, "but you're right, a cop car could pull in for a fill-up and I sure as hell don't want to be hassled for what I'm wearing and you guys sure don't want to get busted for pot.  Let's get this done."  I begin giving instructions on what I need--jack, tire iron, the donut itself. We all go to work.

"Before we jack the car up all the way," I say, "we need to loosen the nuts from the tire."  The guy with the dark curly hair giggles. I can't tell who's the most stoned of the three.  I smile as I squat down to begin wrenching the nuts free from bolts of the deflated tire.  Mostly the guys are standing around watching my every move.  The bulge in the cup of my jock is about to burst, and it's beginning to feel real uncomfortable.  I casually pull the jock up a ways and my balls drop out, hanging free, I can feel them lightly graze the ground.  The nuts on the tire are tight and I'm beginning to sweat.

"You got some big, loose nuts there," the giggler says.  "At least two are now free."  He laughs and the other two join him. "Can I give it a try?" the driver asks.

"Sure I say," gladly handing the tire iron over to him.  I stand up and stretch, tugging on my balls.  The night air feels good.  

"Why are you just wearing a jock strap?" says one of the guys with light brown hair and hazel colored eyes, "I mean, it's okay, no problem, I was just curious."    He's definitely my favorite of the three.  Cute as hell.

"I work in the city at Shepherd Hospital, then I go to the gym, and the ac in my truck isn't working right now and I like feeling the cool breeze, so I took off my shirt and gym shorts while stopped at a red light.  One of my neighbors ran out of gas and I'm doing him a favor, just like I'm doing you guys a favor.  I live about 3 miles down the road."

"The 24 hour gym by the hospital?" one of the guys asks.  "Some crazy shit goes on in that sauna."

 "Is that a problem?" I ask. 

"Fuck no," he says, "I like watching.  Good entertainment." 

"Wanna smoke a joint?" the driver suddenly asks.

"Sure," I say, "but let's get this tire changed first."  By this time the guy has worked all the nuts free.

"Don't unscrew them all the way," I say, "we have to jack up the car, and that's the part that can be dangerous.  Make sure the car is in park and the brake is set."  I'm beginning to feel like the authority father figure amongst these young adults.  My cock is still trying to break free.  I'm kind of wishing I had blown my load at the gym so I wouldn't be quite so horny, but at the same time I'm loving the situation--it's now well after midnight, I'm surrounded by these three hot looking stoned guys, we are in a public place where anyone could suddenly drive up, and I'm helping these guys while my balls are hanging free in the breeze wearing only a jockstrap and flip flops.  What are the chances? 

We finally get the donut in place, tighten all the nuts, and I jack the car down and remove the jack. 

"Thanks so much," the driver says.  "I'm so glad you were here to help us.  Wanna smoke that joint now?"

"Sure," I say, but I think we should pull the cars over there, away from the pumps and any video camera, maybe to that area over there.  It's dark and if someone pulls in for gas, it'll give us plenty of warning."

After moving the vehicles to a far less conspicuous spot, out of the bright lights, we all gather outside our cars and one of the guys lights up the joint.

"It's been a while since I smoked," I said, "it used to really make me horny."  They all laugh. One of the guys lights up the joint and begins passing it around.  I'm really wanting to release my cock and figure the longer I think about it the less likely it's going to happen so I casually reach down and pull the jock strap cup to the side, completely freeing my cock.  My action doesn't go unnoticed.      

"That's one hell of a big cock,” the driver says.

"Thanks,” I say, “I get no complaints, and like I said earlier, pot makes me fucking horny.” I  reach down and give my cock a few strokes.

"Not bad, dude," the guy with the dark curly hair says, "the chicks would go crazy over that."

"So do guys," I say. 

"My older brother is gay," he says, "He and  I are pretty tight, about a year difference in age, but I’m not gay.  He’s always wanting me to suck his cock." 

"This talk along with the joint is obviously making me horny," I say, looking down at my growing cock.     

"Makes me really hungry," the quiet one says. 

"For what?" the driver asks, and they all laugh.

"Anything sweet," the guy answers. 

"Listen, dude, my gay brother jacks off around me all the time, and sure, sometimes I will suck him off when he asks me to."

"Really?” the driver asks.

"Sure, just a few times, what's it to you?"

"Chill, man, just curious."

"How many of you guys have ever never sucked a man's cock," I ask, trying to keep the conversation focused on guy stuff.

"I never have," the guy who had just said he was hungry for anything sweet.     

"Get out of here," his buddy says.  "You've got to be kidding.  Doesn't mean you're gay, dude, all guys fool around with one another sometimes.  It's normal guy stuff."

"He's right," I say, "I have several straight buds that will suck my cock when it's just the two of us.  Doesn't mean they don't prefer pussy."

"Really," the quieter guy says, "everyone here has sucked cock but me.  That's really weird."

"Well," the driver says, "what's weird is not that we've all sucked cock, but that you haven't ever fooled around with another guy.  That's pretty strange.  Even my girlfriend has fooled around with some of her girl friends."

"I vote that if it's okay with our new friend here, you should try sucking his cock, just to see what it's like.  You’ll never know if you don’t give it a try.  Why not”? 

"That's fine by me,” I say, "I'm disease free, I promise you."

The other two egg him on.  “We won’t look if you don’t want us to,” the driver says. 

“Oh what the fuck,” the quieter one says as he approaches me and drops to his knees.   I remove the jock strap and present his mouth with my hard cock.  He immediately takes my cock down his throat, gags, pulls out and spits on the ground.”

“Take it easy,” I say, placing my hands on his head.  “Let me show you how.”  I hold his head still and gently move the head of my cock into his mouth.  “Okay, now imagine you are sucking on a sweet popsicle. Yea, that’s right.  Excellent, take it slow.”  At this point I am totally amazed at the situation.  Jim is in the pickup sound asleep, the young hot guy is on his knees doing a damn good job of sucking my cock, and his two buddies have moved slightly away to give us some privacy.  I get so lost in the intoxication of the night and the blow job that I close my eyes and breathe deeply, feeling the movement of my cock as it slides down his warm throat.   After a while  I know I’m going to explode in his mouth but I’ve lost all concern for anything but the ecstasy I’m feeling.  I realize my hands are holding tightly to the back of his head and I’m beginning to pump, getting rougher as I get closer to shooting.  As I enter into the intensity of the climax I can feel the pulsations that stir my hips into deep forward motions as my ass muscles tighten and squeeze tight and hard as the hot cum is pumped from my balls through my cock directly into the awaiting warmth of the hot, juicy throat.   

After shooting my load, I slowly come out of the ecstasy.  The guy is bent over, still on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath.  “Fuck you, you mother fucking bastard,” he manages to say, “I could barely breathe, I fucking thought I was going to black out, goddammit.  He gets up and lands a fist right into my stomach.  Not too hard, but I know I’ve really pissed him off.  “I’m so sorry,” I said, “I just got lost in the moment, I didn’t mean any harm.” 

His two buddies come over, and pull him away from me.  “Take it easy,” the driver says.  “And you,” he says, pointing at me, “What the hell is wrong with you.  Couldn’t you tell he was having a hard time taking in your cock.  I thought you were just going to let him suck your cock and see if he liked it, not fuck his brains out.  Gee.”

“He shot his load down my throat,” the quiet guy said, “it was warm and salty, I can still taste it. Holy shit, I can't believe he did that.”

“Look, man, I’m really sorry,” I said, I got totally carried away it felt so good. “

“Yea, good for you and hell for me, you selfish bastard.  I should stuff my cock down your throat until you nearly choke to death and see how you like it.” 

“Not a bad idea,” the driver said, looking at me.

“Look, man, I said I was sorry.  That fucking pot was way too strong for me.  I rarely smoke it and it really got me horny.  I got totally lost and I apologize for that.  I really do need to get home and get some rest.  Sorry things turned out badly.  I will certainly let him fuck my face, hard as he wants, but not now.  I'm exhausted.”

“I imagine so,” the quiet guy said.  “I will definitely take you up on the offer, in fact, I can’t wait to ram my hard cock down your throat.  And let me tell you, my cock is just about the same size as yours.”

At that very moment a car pulls into the gas station and the headlights land directly in the spot where we are standing.  Being naked and stoned, I knew I needed to get the fuck out of there.

"You can find me at 24 hour fitness, the one near Shepherd Hospital, most week day nights,"

as I said as I hopped in my pick up, started the ignition and threw the truck into reverse.  I wanted to get the hell out of there just in case the driver of the car with the headlights might decide to report a naked man.  I decided to take a different route home.  Jim was still asleep.  That was one hell of a blow job, I thought to myself, even though I got carried away.  It was the pot.  I didn't really think the guy suffered that much, after all, he was sucking on me like it was the best popsicle he'd ever sucked on.   All in all, it was pretty sweet.

Showing Off at the Pool

by Paul (paulrun4@yahoo.com)

In the summer I swim every day at a city pool after getting off work. I’m a sports caster at the local news station. I look pretty good for my age if I do say so myself but took up the swimming to stay fit.

It’s not a bad pool. Standard Olympic-sized with a couple of diving boards at one end. Pretty basic but that’s just what I need. There’s almost always a lap lane open. I also like it for its men’s locker room. It’s basic too. Concrete walls and floors. One wall lined with urinals, another lined with toilets. No toilet stalls or doors, just concrete dividers for holding toilet paper. A wooden bench in the middle of the room. A few sinks, a mirror. An open shower area with a couple old-fashioned shower stands, the kind that has four nozzles attached to the top of a vertical pipe.

I’m in the habit of showering there every day after my swim. Since I come in the evenings the pool isn’t very crowded but there are always guys coming in and out of the locker room, mostly to take a piss. I usually take the shower head closest to the door. Anybody who walks into the locker room sees me that way. People rarely use the showers, and when they do, they usually keep their suits on. I take everything off, relaxing, washing the chlorine out of my hair, soaping up my body. A whole thorough cleaning.

It’s a public pool so every now and then you get some rough types there. There’s always a police officer hanging around for security. One evening after a good long swim I'd just slipped off my trunks to shower when two fully-uniformed officers walk in. One of them is young, looks like mid-twenties, tall, lean, tan, with a buzzed light brown hair cut. I’ve seen him at the pool once before. The other one is older and stockier. He wears his hair short too. It’s dark with some gray above the side burns. I’m the first thing they see when they walk in. I look up at them and stand there holding my trunks out in front of me. They stop a few feet from the doorway and look around the room authoritatively.

After a few seconds they acknowledge me. The old one takes the lead. Anybody else come through here lately? he asks. He’s all business.

Nope, just me. What’s the problem officer? The young one walks by me and paces around the room a bit, peering over the toilet partitions.

Indecent exposure report, says the old one. He steps by me to glance into the shower. Some creep running around flashing people. Last seen here at the pool, thought he might’ve ducked in the lockers. He stops a few feet away from me and looks me up and down real careful. I keep my trunks held out in front of me, feeling exposed. He’s staring me down and then the young one comes and gives me a thorough once over.

He don’t fit the description, Ned. The guy ain’t here. The old one nods and pulls out his radio. He has big hairy forearms. Then the young one pipes up again. Hey, I’ll be damned, he says. You’re on TV. Real big grin on his face. He recognizes me. I can breathe a little easier. I flash the old TV grin.

Yeah, that’s right, I say. He’s watched my station since high school. He tells me his name and asks me if I remember his team. I look up toward the ceiling to think. I’m getting more comfortable now so I let my suit drop to the bench beside me and cross my arms. After a moment I tell the young guy I can’t recall. So he tells me his name and the school he went to and I manage to place him with the basketball team there. The kid looks thrilled. He glances at the old guy. He’s showing off for him. The old guy has put up his radio and stands there listening with his hands on his hips. Now the young guy wants to talk sports, and here I am, standing naked. I’m happy to oblige because I think the kid is cute. But his boss makes me feel even more naked the way he’s staring me down. It’s okay though. I have nothing to hide.

The old guy doesn’t seem very interested in joining our conversation. He strides over to one of the toilets while we’re talking. He unzips and a stream of piss hits the toilet water. It’s almost loud enough to drown out our talking. It lasts a while. As it fades out he says over his shoulder, Well fellas, hate to interrupt this bull session, but duty calls. He shakes dry and turns around to us abruptly, zipper undone, all of him hanging out there. He isn’t wearing underwear. All of a sudden I feel small and shriveled from the cold water I just walked out of, and I give myself a couple inadvertent nervous tugs. He walks back over toward us and makes a to-do of re-tucking his shirt, still unzipped and hanging out. Looking at his partner he says, Ready to hit the road?

Sure, says the young one, and turns to me, offering his hand. Hey, it was good to meet you.

Good to meet you too, I say, smiling and taking his hand. It’s a firm handshake. When the old guy offers me his hand he’s zipped up again. His handshake is a vice. His look takes in all of me. I notice I’m not so small anymore, and maybe he does too.

Real pleased to meet a celebrity, he says. I just smile. Then I wish them good luck with finding their man, and they thank me while walking out, the young one in front.

I get in the shower. I use one of the less visible ones because now I’m hard and there’s no hiding it. I think about what just happened. The three of us, showing off for each other. Something different about the old guy. I wonder about him. I wonder what it’s like when just the two of them are together.