I had a friend once upon a time and he used to say, “You never know where your blessing are going to come from. Some people might find the use of this phrase in this story objectionable or offensive, I for one think it’s spot on for what I am about to tell you.
My sister Lisa's friend's boyfriend's brother, Tommy, showed up for my carefully planned beach trip, invited by the boyfriend who did not think I needed to know. The car we planned to take wouldn't hold all of us and our stuff so instead of being a bitch (which was plan A) and telling him to take a hike we drove two cars. The boyfriend paid for gas as his punishment. My sister and her friend wouldn't ride separately and the boyfriend had to ride with them so a perfect stranger in an ugly ball cap climbed into the car with me. He was stoked, because I had the coolest car he’s ever seen and he’s seen a lot of cars, apparently. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the 3 beers he'd consumed while we rearranged the cars. We are driving for maybe an hour and Tommy told me all about his fitness regime (involves staring at girls in yoga pants at the gym and occasionally lifting some free weights) his mint condition (except for some rust) 1984 Ford something or other and the time he almost got backstage at a Coldplay concert, before he had to piss ("like a racehorse," naturally.) I pulled into the first gas station I saw and sat in the car, enjoying the respite from the stream of slightly-drunken consciousness that I'd been subjected to for 50-odd miles. When Tommy climbed back in, he flashed his guns at me and stuck out his tongue. "That chick in there almost gave me my Mountain Dew for free for a glance at these babies, but her boss was in there so she couldn't. She wanted a mustache ride, I could tell." His nipple popped out of his makeshift muscle tee shirt and the picture was equal parts absurd and kinda hot. Sure, Tommy was an obnoxious good ole boy, but he had hair in all the right places and when he slouched in his seat his cargo shorts rode up just enough to outline his beer can size dick. I filed this info into my spank bank and pulled out of the parking lot.
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In high school I hung out regularly with four other straight guys. We were all a little nerdy but quite typical boys – preoccupied with girls, sex and how our young cocks were shaping up.
One Saturday we were hiking out in the hills and we started talking trash about how big our cocks were. We had seen each other in the gym showers and we kind of knew what each of us had down there. But, still, it turned into a good-natured argument. I told the guys that what really matters is how big a cock is when it's fully hard – not when it's limp. So we each dared each other to pull down our pants and start stroking ourselves hard to see exactly how big we were. We found a little clearing off the trail and starting masturbating. Even though we were straight guys it was strangely exciting to expose ourselves like this. Just like most guys our age, all of our dicks were hard in no time. Then we compared cocks for length and thickness by pressing them against each another. Not that it mattered all that much who the winner was because we were still young and growing. Today's winner might be tomorrow's loser. (Now I may not have been the biggest, but I surely wasn’t the smallest either) After that day we continued to size each other up. We measured length and thickness and logged results. We were obsessed with how much pubic hair we had. And we always ended our sessions by jerking off and seeing how far we could shoot. In my 10 plus years working at this public transit company, I have seen first hand some of the shenanigans that riders get up to. Here are a few of them:
I was out in the woods with a group of friends for a two-week camping trip. Everyone was having a good time, but my buddy Dylan looked a little stressed, which was unusual, since he was such an easy-going guy. I asked him if anything were wrong, and if I could help. He looked at me, and said no, it was something he needed to deal with on his own. I respected his privacy and told him that I was there for him, and if there was anything, I could do to help him out, I would be happy to do it. That caused Dylan to pause and look me up and down. I could see on his face, that he had come to some sort of Decision.
“Maybe you can help me out, after all. Let's go for a walk.” Dylan took the lead, and we went out, deep into the woods. After about twenty minutes of walking and almost is complete silence, Dylan decided to open up to me about what was going on. “Rebecca and I broke up three weeks ago.” “I am sorry to hear that.” I said sincerely. He and Rebecca appeared to be the perfect couple. They were really into each other and seemed incredibly happy together. “Yeah, it’s been hard. We were together for three years and she was great. She was the first girl that I met that liked sex as much as I do. Her appetite never seemed to wane; she was horny all the time, so we fucked a couple of times a day.” “Really? That’s amazing. What happened?” I asked trying to get the big picture. “We realized that while the sex was amazing, we didn’t really have anything else in common. We weren’t moving forward; we were just using each other to feel good.” “And you wanted more?” |
AuthorThis is where I post my Dirty Media for all to see. I post random things that I like that may or may not be organized. My only agenda is to show what makes me feel good. Hope you enjoy yourselves as you look around. Feel free to make comments on my posts or drop me a line on the contact page. Archives
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