thenakedgingerwrites

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Dack Attack

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Did something happen to your blackmail story? I was in the mood to read it again but it's gone

Hmm could you give more details? I don't remember a specific blackmail theme in anything I've written but after so many stories they get a bit jumbled in my mind :-|

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Exposed at the Gym

After my embarrassing debacle at the airport, I was both terrified and exhilarated to tell my online group about my day. The dare to wear revealing shorts at the airport, commando of course, had led to a TSA agent grabbing my cock through thin nylon, a young guy potentially taking photos of my junk from up my shorts, and who knows how many people seeing my painfully-tented erection when I had accidently fallen asleep on the plane.

I had expected it to be an embarrassing and uncomfortable day but I certainly had not expected it to get that extreme. For many people that should have been a lesson learned; to not accept those sorts of crazy dares from an online group of men you’d never meet. For many people, that level of humiliation I had felt would be the wake up call. But I was Icarus, it seemed.

The cab ride to my hotel could have been eventful as I sat there in his back seat with the same tented boner the whole way, but the man had no real opportunity or need to look back at my lap. I should have ordered a group ride, I thought stupidly to myself. Who knows what may have happened had I shared the backseat with a random passenger.

No, instead the ride to the hotel and even the check-in experience was uneventful. Unpacking my bag for this work trip, I recalled the events from the day over and over in my mind. It was clear that my boner wasn’t going to go away without assistance so I booted up my personal laptop to share my story with the guys online and rub one out thinking about it.

It took me about an hour to type the whole day out and share it to my tumblr and by the time I was finished I had created a small puddle of precum on the hotel office chair I sat nude in. Fuck, I was horny.

I honestly didn’t need any porn to assist me today, but I pulled some up out of habit. I browsed through some of my favorite ENM videos and decided to stick with one where a young man is unable to set down a heavy object as his pants, and soon his underwear, are dragged down to the floor from his overly-stuffed pockets. No matter how many times I watched it, hearing his pleas to let him set down the weight so that he could raise his pants, I would get turned on to a 10 within seconds. 

I pressed play, letting his setup fill the room as I walked to the bathroom to grab the body lotion.

“Hey, yes I have this large delivery. Do you mind if I set it down? I don’t want to scratch your floor.”

With my red-hard dick doing the thinking for me, a devilish idea crossed my mind as I exited the bathroom and saw the door to the hallway. My brain didn’t really get a chance to fully comprehend my choice before I opened the door and placed the door jam between it and the frame. The door was only cracked a centimeter but it was no longer locked to anyone who might be curious to take a peek.

Now, would anyone actually do that, probably not. In my warped mind guided only by embarrassment and sexual exposure though, it seemed possible. I even considered for a moment calling down for extra towels and race against the clock to cum before some worker entered to find me furiously stroking my cock. I would, after all, be right in their eyeline the moment they opened the door. 

A ping from my browser tab with tumblr alerted me that someone had messaged me. Ah, one of my fellow ENM friends. He wasn’t the one who had given me the airport dare, but he’d given me ones in the past and had taken on some of his own. He was a bit more risky than I was though. 

“Wowowowow. That story was freaking hot man! I’m sure that dude took a ton of photos of your cock! I would have ;)” his message read.

“Nooo!” I teased back at him. “The thought of him having nudes of me is so humiliating!”

“And a bit of a turn on, yeah?” he asked, well aware of the answer.

“Let’s just say you interrupted me replaying that memory on a loop.” I figured that would be enough of a hint as to what I was doing.

I watched the little bubbles animate as he typed back a response. “Oh yeah? Home alone jacking it to the thought of all the airport folks staring at your bulge and cock?”

I explained to him that I was indeed doing the deed, but in my hotel room. I threw in the detail about the door being ajar and he informed me he’d be joining me in a masturbation session. I honestly could have come at any moment but enjoyed teasing myself as my online buddy and I talked more about our desires for humiliation.

He painted a real intense picture for me too for a dare I knew I wouldn’t be brave enough to do. 

“Oh man, you should order room service or something and try to cum before they get up there.” Great minds really do think alike in this regard, I supposed. I told him I considered it but wasn’t sure I wanted to put some employee through that and could be borderline a sex crime. “Well how about this…”

His dare was an involved one and while I wasn’t going to participate in it, it was accelerating my impending climax. He tried to encourage me to plug in my headphones and listen to porn at full volume and then wear a blindfold while I continued to stroke my dick, naked as the day I was born in that hotel office chair. With the door as it was, if someone opened it out of curiosity I certainly couldn’t be in trouble for them barging into my private space and seeing me indecent; but I would never know. 

The thought was exhilarating. A ‘get out of jail’ free card, if you will, to be watched and exposed in such a way but I would never really know. Did someone peep in? Did they take photos? Or would I have just masturbated in darkness all by myself with the rush of feeling like it could happen. Perhaps I could have set my phone up recording the act, to verify later on if I had obtained a secret admirer during my dirty deed. 

The thought was enough and I came onto my stomach. 

With my clean hand, I typed out that I had finished and thanked my friend for the idea. I’m sure he’d message me shortly letting me know about his own orgasm. It’s funny, most of these guys I talk to I’ve never seen their face, let alone bodies. 

A few guys would share nudes and cum shots but they were more exhibitionists instead of the specific breed of pervert me and my online friends were. We didn’t get off on the thrill of people watching us; we got off on the feeling of being humiliated and exposed and vulnerable. For that reason, just sending a nude or a jack off video to any of these guys wouldn’t have done much for me nor for the guys receiving it. 

Instead we traded in stories and dares to generate more stories. I’d say only a handful of us actually did them, but there were a dozen or so who participated in ideating the next risky thing for one of us to try. 

I wasn’t the tamest, as I think my airport story would show, but I also wasn’t the wildest. That would be hard to beat with one of our older friends who went by the alias PecMan. I could write a small book with the stories he’s shared. Some I would have thought were just made up fantasies, and perhaps some were, but he was one of the only guys in our niche group that had shared some of his content in the past. 

Being naked in public is sort of the top tier of our little kink circle, and PecMan was willing to somehow stomach the nerves to actually do it a number of times. I remember one of his first was to walk naked from his house, down the road, and back at night. He had recorded that one as ‘proof’ knowing that none of us were jerking it to the image of him, but he idea of us being him. No one caught him that night.

From there he’s escalated the dares he accepted and has streaked through lots of Chicago. One he had shared, which actually was now on my bucket list, was to sit through an entire movie at the theater naked. He had showed up a few minutes late, picked a less popular movie, and sat in the back, but still he had done it. 

Anyway, I headed for the shower to clean up and go on with my day. I’d be in our office for the next couple days during the day and after happy hour with the team, I’d probably find myself alone in my hotel room each evening repeating this same activity.

After dinner, room service for which I remained clothed for, I decided I should leverage this down time with fewer distractions and head down to the hotel gym. I only made it to the gym 1 to 2 times a week back home and I couldn’t find any good excuse not to while I was traveling.

I got changed into my workout gear: an old band t-shirt, black camo shorts, black Calvin briefs, and my traveling sneakers.

Before heading down I checked on my laptop one more time to see some more comments on my story and a few messages from my ENM buds. PecMan had liked it and expressed his interest and admiration for me following through with that dare and having such a fun experience to share as a result. 

I saw his green circle in my messages letting me know he was online so I typed up a quick thank you to him and that one day I hoped to be brave enough to take my challenges to his level.

“There’s always going to be a first,” he immediately replied back.

He had a point. I’m not sure what the ‘toe in the water’ would be for getting actually naked in public, willingly. The airport exposure was a bit of an accident. To have let my boner tent bob freely with my knowledge is something I don’t think I could have managed.

“We’ll see. I don’t think I’m ready but maybe when I get back home I’ll consider a late night streak.”

“Back home? Honestly the best place to try is in a place you don’t live. You’re more anonymous wherever you are right now compared to back home.”

Fuck. That did make a lot of sense, but I wasn’t exactly looking to streak out here, especially outside of a hotel in the business complex I was staying at. Sure, less walking traffic now since there weren't any retail shops around here, but far more security cameras.

I moved the conversation over to the app on my phone as I headed down to the gym, chubbing up a bit just by talking to PecMan.

“True, true. Security cameras could be a risk. Although that’s most of the fun, isn’t it?”

I replied to him as I waited for the elevator to arrive. “I mean, yeah, I just don’t think I’m ready. Heading down to the gym at this hotel to try and blow some steam off.”

“Oh? Alone in the elevator?”

I furrowed my brow. I had a hunch at where he was going but wanted more details. “It’s not here yet but probably. The hotel is pretty empty.”

I watched the bubbles as the elevator dinged. It was indeed empty. I got on and pressed ‘B’ for basement where the gym was located according to the sign in my room.

His message popped up. “Well then an easy one. Just pull back your shorts and underwear. Look at your cock, in a public space. No one can see you but you’ll know you’re looking at your own fucking dick in a place you shouldn’t be.”

The elevator had moved down two floors as I read that and impulse took over. It wasn’t even that risky, to be honest. I hooked my left thumb into the waistband of both garments and, looking around at the obviously empty elevator, surrounded by my own image in the mirrors that encased it, I pulled the material out away from my body.

It shouldn’t be that exhilarating, really, but what PecMan said was true. It was so risky and naughty to be looking at my dick in a public space. What’s more, I let my dick do the thinking and switched over to my camera app to snap a downward pic of my view. 

Perhaps I was just taking it for my own memory, to remember this moment, but as my cock in the frame grew by the idea I flipped back over to Tumblr and sent it to PecMan.

“Nice dick, man. How do you feel? Other than excited, obviously lol”

Ding!

The elevator doors opening nearly gave me a heart attack. My waistbands snapped back onto my stomach audibly and my face flushed as the doors opened to an empty hallway on the basement level.

“You idiot,” I said to myself under my breath as I got off. 

The gym required your room key to get in and I noticed the buzzing sound the door made when it was being unlocked. The gym itself, which is a bit of a stretch to call it that, was small. It was more of a large storage room that they had repurposed for a gym.

The room was like a capital ‘L’ with the shorter side being the one I walked into. There was a water fountain and a table with some towels to my right and some yoga mats on the floor to the left. The left wall was glass, facing the decent sized pool beside the gym. 

I cautiously walked the 10 feet to check out the equipment and to see if I was alone, which I was, unsurprisingly. The machinery was old but sufficient for my novice skill level. They had one cable machine, a couple leg machines, two treadmills, and two benches with free weights going up to 50 pounds. Well, technically there was a 50 and a 45 pound dumbbell but the highest pair they had was 40 pounds.

This back side of the gym had a few long mirrors that didn’t quite let you see around the corner to the door but allowed you to check your form I guess. 

I sat on one of the benches and pulled out my phone to respond to PecMan.

“Thanks! It was actually terrifying. I might do it again on the way up!”

I looked to the left where I could still see into the pool room a decent bit. There wasn’t anyone there. I think the pool closed at like 10 or so. Checking my watch I noticed it was only 9:18 but again, this hotel was pretty empty based on when I checked in.

“You should! Hell, do it now. Anyone in the gym with you or are you by yourself like in most hotel gyms?”

“Alone, actually. This place is dead.” I eyed my bulge which had begun plumping up again. I gave it a squeeze. “Does the risk of being exposed get easier with time?”

Bubbles. I grabbed some weights and started some curls without really counting the reps with my phone between my legs on the bench. 

“Sort of. Doing the same thing over loses a bit of the thrill, but there’s always a new layer you can add. Try a different street to streak at. A different theater. A more popular movie.”

My cock filled fully within my camo shorts. “So you’re always trying to one-up yourself?”

“Yeah, I guess. But that’s part of the thrill, right?”

He was right, after all. A few years ago I would have never seen me being able to wear those nearly-see-through shorts to the airport and while it was terrifying, I actually did it and survived. 

I pulled back the waistband of my shorts again to look at my hard cock resting against my thigh, almost begging for attention. I just sat there for a bit looking at my most private of areas seeing the light of day, well, poor gym lighting, in such a public place.

I switched arms and mindlessly did some curls with a weight that probably wasn’t enough to earn any real results.

“Want to play a game?”

His message sent a shiver down my back and I gulped. I wasn’t sure what he would be pitching but I knew it would make me feel uncomfortable but already boned up, I was worried I would indeed play whatever game PecMan had in mind.

“Am I going to hate this game?”

His response wasn’t unexpected, “Yes. But you’ll also love it.”

I walked back over to the corner of the gym to see the door to the gym, the top half being glass, and peered down the hallway. Empty, just like the pool beside me. I returned back to my secret corner of this hotel and sat down on my bench.

“Okay, I’ll play.”

AN - Hey there! It’s been a while :) I’m finding some more motivation to write so we’ll see how many stories end up coming from this messed up brain of mine over the next few months while I ride this creative wave. I have plans to finish this one soon but probably won’t post the whole thing here. I sort of hate to be ‘that guy’ but I do have an Amazon Author page where all of my stories can be read for free with a Prime subscription. I get paid for every page read and while it’s not a lot, it does help with bills. 

The link to my page is just below and has a lot of my stories from here, some others that aren’t fully ENM, and extended versions of some of my previous works, most notably “Gullible” in which a guy realizes his friend is still under the hypnotic suggestions from a previous weekend. 

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Collin-Knight/author/B09QZD6CGZ?ref=ap_rdr&store_ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

[thenakedgingerwrites]

“Mentor turned Tormentor” An incredibly well written piece of fiction, great narrative and concept. Have read it several times now - never fails to delight. Great wordsmith!

Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and more than once at that!

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Hey just wanted to say I'm LOVING your stories and hope there's more to the cock in the box saga! Seriously one of the hottest things I've ever read.

That's so kind! Yes, I do plan to revisit and finish the revenge side of the story. To caveat though, I'll probably wait to finish that entirely and then publish on Amazon.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Will you continue to post updates on gayspiralstories?

For sure. The two stories I'm working on right now don't fit the mind control/hypnosis category though (ENM instead) so it'll be a bit before I write something appropriate for GSS.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

New & Updated Stories

Hey folks! I started publishing some of my stories on Amazon last month after I discovered a small niche of ENM/CMNM types of straight-to-gay stories on there. My biggest one is an update to Gullible Mike from a year or so ago, where I more than doubled the length and added some additional twists!

While I’m flattered if you want to purchase the books, they’re FREE to read if you have a Prime account. Amazon actually pays me a few cents when people read your stories so I figure, why not? 

I’m currently working on two pieces and when those are finished I’ll post a teaser here, but wanted you to know you can read my 6 stories there now if you’re looking for some embarrassing and sometimes erotic content.

Also, I’m a little bummed that my Gullible book has a two star rating. :( Oh well, gay hypnosis isn’t for everyone.

https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B09QZD6CGZ

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Never Read The Comments (part 1)

The First Comment

“Arguing with people online never works, Kyle.”

I knew she was right, but it didn’t change my perspective. When I saw someone posting some crazy rhetoric online, especially if I detected hate to their words, I had to jump in. If nothing else, it showed other people that someone was willing to stand up against this bullshit.

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied. 

“I bet you’re only doing this because he’s hot.” Katie laughed at her comment which irked me a bit.

“No, it’s because he’s a right-wing neo-nazi.”

“Sure, sure. But the tight clothes and thick muscles don’t hurt.”

I squinted at her. I wouldn’t be honest to her outloud but she had a point. The guy on Tok I had been commenting on was, indeed, hot. AltAndrew was ripped with a thick beard. He knew what he was doing with his tight clothes or open button-ups. If I had muted his videos I could have been convinced I was into him but the second he started talking racist nonsense it dashed those fantasies. I bet that’s why he had a following at all.

If only people weren’t so shallow to idolize and follow the ramblings of a hot guy on the internet.

“Whatever, Katie. I guess it doesn’t matter since I won’t convince anyone.”

She shrugged and sighed. “Kyle, I think it’s great that you speak up for marginalized people. I just wish it had the impact you hope it did.”

“Ha,” I laughed, mostly to myself. “Me too.”

“Anyway, it’s getting late so I should head home.”

Katie had been my best friend since high school and was the first person I came out too back then. We’d created a bit of a weekly ritual to get drunk on Wednesdays and catch up on our lives. She had settled down, still no kids yet but a handsome husband, Ben, we had met mutually in college. And here I was, single and arguing with idiots online.

“Okay. You good to drive?”

“Yeah, thanks Dad. You lapped me 2 hours ago so luckily we chose your place tonight.”

“I didn’t need Ben chastising me too.”

“Oh hush, you love it.” She winked at me and then started gathering up her things. I gave her a hug and saw her to her car before she headed back to the life she had created with someone. 

I poured myself another glass of wine.

Taking it to bed, I idly swiped through my phone reviewing more of the dumb commentary these dumb hunks had to make. I was feeding my addiction. 

Katie’s words stuck in my head and I caught myself swiping past people until I saw an attractive guy. Then, regardless of if I agreed with his opinion or not, I’d comment. Either reaffirming his good intentions, hoping to be noticed by him, or dragging him for his backwoods rhetoric, hoping the same.

One guy, in particular, had the audacity to say “America is the least racist place on the planet” which triggered me and drove me straight to the comments. There was a 50/50 split on the emotions there, but most points had been made logically and statistically discrediting that ‘opinion.’ So I added a simple jab:

[You should just stop talking, like, forever.]

I drained my glass and started on my nightly routine. Brushed my teeth, peed, moisturized my face and then laid down with my lotion for the final ritual, masturbating. A pump of white liquid in my hand and a favorite video of mine pulled up on my laptop set the scene.

Underwear pulled to my thigh, I began lubricating my growing cock as I watched a guy struggle to keep a heavy weight up with both hands while his pants began to slip down. I loved the humiliation genre on PornHub and this was one of my all-time favorites. My own cock was at full mast before the band of his underwear began to come into view.

The entire time the actor pretends to be embarrassed and terrified that his pants are slipping but unable to let the weight down for whatever reason. After his pants pass his thigh, his large pouch is exposed to me. I’m almost ready to shoot then and there but it’s at that moment the actor notices his underwear is stuck on his back pocket.

As his jeans continue to slip below the frame, it pulls his briefs as well. His panicking becomes more frantic and loud as the waistband starts to melt downward. 

Pubes are exposed, thick and private but exposed for me and everyone watching. Then the base of his soft cock. He’s begging at this point to put the weight down but is, again, unable to or not allowed to. 

He tries to spread his legs to keep his underwear up; keeping his shame covered. But he quivers in embarrassment which shudders his legs together. That movement is all that’s needed for the weight of the jeans, now likely at his calf, to win out.

In an instant his briefs are ripped downward out of frame. “Oh god! No!” he yells as his soft cock bounces up and out into view. It’s not necessarily a huge dick, probably average, but the thrill is the humiliation.

The moment his cock and balls burst onto my screen I shoot. Rope after rope splatters onto my t-shirt. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cum to that video. The mysterious man continues to stand there panicking, pleading to cover himself, as I come down from my orgasm high. 

Shutting the laptop, I place it on my nightstand. I peel my shirt off keeping the wet parts away from my face and ball the shirt up before tossing it into my laundry bin by the door. Luckily, and a bit surprisingly, I made it in.

With that, I roll over and let sleep take me, high on endorphins and forgetting about the idiots on the internet for a bit.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Show at the Pool (part 1)

“Come’on Randy, let’s go already.”

My husband shouted at me through the door to my friend’s bathroom that I was currently holed up in. The reason for my trip to the bathroom was to change into my swimsuit that I brought for the pool party at his apartment’s high rise. The reason I was still in there is my nerves.

I had been a board short guy growing up and it wasn’t until my late twenties or early thirties that I started to wear box shorts in pool/beach settings; however, I had never felt comfortable or confident enough to dress in a speedo or brief cut before.

Well, until today.

My supportive, loving, and a bit manipulative husband had convinced me to live in the moment shortly after my 40th and a piece of that was bringing one of his bikini style suits today.

It’s not even that skimpy, he told me. It’s black too so it barely shows any VPL, to which I had to be reminded what that meant. I shuddered. But Steve was right, I did have a good body. I took care of it in the gym and ate right most of the time. For 40, I did look good. 

My friends would agree, being mostly gay men as well, and so when Steve told them all that I’d be donning one of his briefs for a change they couldn’t contain their excitement. The texts I got that morning from them both excited (and a bit turned on) that I was going to wear a bikini made me excited, nervous, and confirmed that I couldn’t back out now or else they’d all know I was shy about it.

Steve had told me to just ‘act like it’s no big deal and it won’t be.’ A ‘fake it til you make it’ type of situation. 

But now, standing in my friend’s bathroom and examining myself in the mirror I wasn’t sure how I could fake it. I was so nervous.

While the black color of the suit definitely helped a bit, the glossiness of it kept a very clear shadow beneath my bulge which was heightened even more because one of my other issues is that when I get nervous... Well, I get excited, let’s just say.

So there I was, standing in nothing but a pretty thin piece of black fabric covering my hard on and nothing else. I couldn’t do it.

“Randy my god! It’s just a bathing suit!”

More raps against the door. “Steve... I can’t do this. Tell everyone I got sick or something.”

“For Pete’s sake.”

I had forgotten to lock the door I guess as my husband walked in. 

“Shit!”

I instinctively covered myself as best I could.

“Really?” he questioned me. “Not like I didn’t have that thing down my throat last night.

He had a point. I dropped my hands to let him better assess and confirm why I most certainly could not go out like this. “See? I can’t do this.”

“Ugh, this again.” Steve wasn’t new to my anxiety boners and was actually part of the reason we met in the first place all those years ago. “Just tuck it up into your waistband.”

I rolled my eyes at him. My typical go-to would obviously not help me here. I did as he instructed though so he could see me standing there with 3 inches of my dick poking out of the top of the suit. “Like this, sweetheart?”

He laughed. “I mean, I don’t mind it. I’m not sure our friends will either.”

“For the love of God, Steve.” I pushed my dick back into its restrictive cocoon. “I’m not looking to get arrested.”

“I dunno, Rod was telling me that these pool parties have gotten pretty rowdy in the past. Maybe this is your chance to live a little.”

“Steve! This suit is living a little too much already!”

Now Steve rolled his eyes. He was wearing a mostly-white pair with green leaves all over them. While my husband wasn’t as large as me, down there, his ample package filled the suit nicely and was certainly on display; something he didn’t mind one bit. I could pretty clearly see the outline of his dick against his balls, plumping up a bit too if I wasn’t mistaken.

“Fine, I’ll help you.”

He walked forward to pull the front of the suit down a few inches, exposing my cock fully to him. He grabbed on firmly with both hands, covering it completely.

“I don’t want a handjob right now.”

“Well good, because I’m not giving you one. Flex your thighs.”

“What?” I asked him.

“Flex. Your. Thighs. It’s a trick I learned to get rid of unwanted boners. You flex your thighs to get a lot of blood pumping there and then squeeze your dick at the same time to push blood out.”

Hm, I wondered if that would work.

“I can squeeze my own dick, Steve.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one forced to help you so humor me a bit and let me help.”

I sighed, “fine.”

It was an odd feeling. As I flexed my legs my husband tightened his grip on my dick starting at the head and then milking the pressure down to my base. It wasn’t painful, by any means, but odd to feel yourself deflate so rapidly.

“See?”

He backed away to admire his work and I looked down as well. “Huh. And where was this advice years ago?”

Between my legs was my, while still not flaccid, much smaller dick. 

“Oh my!”

I whipped my head up to a voice that didn’t belong to my husband. Steve turned around as well to see Mike standing at the doorway with a cocktail in hand. I rapidly pulled the briefs up to cover my genitals.

“What the fuck, Mike!” I cursed.

“I was just coming to see if you needed anything.” His eyes were still on my bulge. “But, I can see you’re in good hands with your husband here.” Mike playfully eyed Steve who chuckled. Steve hadn’t been fucking on display a second ago and probably wouldn’t mind if he had been. “Oh well, see you in the pool!”

With that he strolled off with a wink. “Fucking hell,” I muttered. 

“Oh come off it, Randy, most of us have seen most of us naked anyway. Fuck, a lot of this group has fucked each other. Incestuous little friend group we have don’t we?”

“Sure but I’m not on that list and I’d like it to stay that way!”

He batted away my words with his hands, “whatever. Are you coming now?”

Steve began walking towards the door but lingered for me to follow him. I did a once over in the mirror. The suit was still tight and shadows still told everyone I indeed had a dick down there, but it wasn’t nearly as obscene as a minute ago. I sighed and repeated in my head to live in the moment.

I followed my husband out of the bathroom.

The rest of the guys had already retreated up to the rooftop pool so there was just me and Steve in Rod’s apartment at the moment. “You know, we could have a quickie right now,” Steve teased. “That’ll ensure Randy Jr. takes a long nap this afternoon.”

“Oh my God, no! I just want to get this day over with.”

He rubbed my shoulders. “Randy, I’m just trying to help. I’m really proud of you already for being willing to get out of your comfort level with one of my suits. No quickie then.”

“Thank you.”

His rubbing had to stop though or else I’d be back in the same situation I was a bit ago. Shrugging him off me, I grabbed my sunglasses and gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”

He nodded eagerly and followed behind, playfully smacking my ass as we left.

The elevator was miraculously empty so it was just Steve and I as we ascended the last 7 floors to the rooftop. Steve held my hand on the way up and at one point placed the back of my hand right against his bulge. 

“Steve!”

I ripped my hand away. “Oh you’re no fun.”

My deflated boner and his inflating one now matched in size in our suits but thankfully his was more obvious. This wasn’t the first time I or probably half of Manhattan had seen a hard on barely contained within whatever my husband decided to don that day. While I would normally consider chastising him, his boner would be a good distraction to keep focus off me. I felt a bit devious and mean but decided to ensure that camouflage remained.

“No fun, eh?” I whispered in his ear.

With only 2 floors left I used the last remaining seconds alone to shove my hand down and into Steve’s suit, palming his growing cock. “Isn’t this ‘fun’?”

Feeling emboldened and knowing how much of an exhibitionist he is, I used my other hand to pull his suit out and under his cock, freeing it to the elevator (and any security attendant that might be watching the cameras). 

“Randy!” Steve was alarmed and reached to stop me but my grasp was stronger. It wasn’t until the ding of the elevator reaching its stop did I let go. Steve was still shoving his cock into his briefs as the doors opened, now almost fully hard. No one had been by the doors though so his dignity was left in tact, at least flesh wise. The white and green suit he chose did little to hide the tubular appendage that yearned to be set free.

My camouflage was set.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Cock in a Box (part 6)

The guys were panicking the next morning and afternoon. Dan and Brad had treated me like a King, getting me drinks and food when I asked, hoping I would call it off but no dice.

Their nervousness only strengthened my resolve as they realized how terrifying the torment they put me through really was. None of them would actually admit it and ask me to call it off. My brother looked absolutely ill. I loved it.

When we got to the club, none of them were excited to see the line wrapped along the building. We heard gay guys chatting excitedly about the show tonight and how it had been promised to be the best they’ve ever done. Sweat was the only response from the guys.

Some staff met us at the door, remembering us from last night, and ushered us past the line which began cheering once they realized we were the entertainment. Well, they were. Not me. Not tonight.

The guys, Brad in particular, gave me one last pathetic look of apology, hoping to find last-minute pity but I waved them off with a, “have fun guys!”

Kevin was the only one to speak, “after this, we’re even.”

I nodded, and he shook his head like ‘I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this’ and followed the staff back stage. I walked to the front and met up with Anita, easy enough to see in her massive heels.

“Ben! How are you?!” She squealed.

“I’ll be better after tonight.”

“You little minx. Are you sure your friends are going to be okay with this?”

I shrugged, “I hope not. But that’s what waivers are for, yeah?”

She raised her eyebrows, potentially surprised at my lack of sympathy. I knew backstage that my friends were signing waivers. After last night, the manager thought it would be important to get all contestants to sign a sheet saying more or less: whatever happens, happens, and I can’t press charges. Idiots.

The boxes themselves had been altered per my request. I’m sure they could be used as-is from now on but if they had to be replaced I was confident the crowd tonight would bring in enough money to rebuild the whole set. It was already packed. 

The modifications seemed simple but mysterious to anyone besides the few staff we filled in. The hole at crotch height remained for obvious use but now each box had small slits just above to either side and two additional holes above that. Beside each of them were metal hooks bolted into the wood. There appeared to be some other modifications but more on that later.

Through the holes you could see lights from backstage. Clearly my friends had not stepped into the booths yet and drawn the curtains. Patience.

Anita got me a drink, on the house of course, and ushered me to a table right up front to see everything in perfect detail. A few minutes later and halfway through my drink, the holes darkened. They were in. 

I had only had Anita and her team modify 6 boxes since they would be the only contestants tonight. That meant only these boxes would soon see dicks emerge: 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, and 10.

Anita began the show.

“Gentleman and less-than-gentle men, good evening!” 

The crowd erupted. They had been filled in that there would be a part 2 to last night’s performance but beyond that weren’t aware of just how racey this night was going to go. 

Anita introduced the premise of the game and that each round would include some sort of challenge or audience vote, removing contestants from the game as we went until there was only one winner left standing ‘at attention.’ (Laughter from the crowd)

The winner again would get a free tab at the bar for being such a good sport.

“And with that, straighties, let’s see some meat!” 

I waited with bated breath. Would they actually go through with this? If I got them to shove their dicks through those holes I knew the night would go exactly as planned. But I needed them to take the first step on their own.

It didn’t seem like anyone was looking to be brave tonight until I saw the first dick come through hole 5, the box I had been in last night. 

It was soft, as I expected all of them to be for now, but pretty large at least compared to what my 6 incher looked like soft. Then again, I knew that some guys were showers vs. growers so who knew. Balls looked to be average. 

Was I really looking at my friend’s dick this closely? What if it was my brother’s? Oh well. My eyes upon their cocks would just be an additional embarrassment for them later.

Then hole 2 was filled with meat. Smaller than number 5’s but thicker. Balls were maybe a bit bigger but it was hard to tell since they were fully covered in dark hair. Clearly one of my friends doesn’t believe in manscaping the boys. The dark hair ruled out Rodger and Kevin though.

Then hole 7. This guy almost looked uncut with the amount of skin bunched up near the head of his cock but I would be surprised if any of us were uncut, honestly. Being from Tennessee except for Roger (Maine), I wagered we had all been snipped at birth. 7’s balls were also pretty normal, I guess.

Maybe all dicks sort of look alike?

Hole 8 and 10 both emerged at the same time. 8’s honestly looked a lot like mine, I thought. Perhaps that was my brother. Except I could see a visible vein even soft and wondered what that might look like hard. 10’s dick was visually different from the rest. It had very distinct coloration between the browner shaft and pinker circumcision point. Size seemed similar to the rest but that guy’s balls were tight against his body. They almost didn’t poke out through the hole.

Lastly, to the cheers and pleas from the crowd, 3 also shoved his junk out for us to admire. Admire? To see.

His was also noticeably different. Not just that his balls were the biggest, but it appeared he was already chubbed up. Definitely not hard, but his dick was a bit aloft from his balls and twitched a bit with the guy’s heartbeat. Well someone is a bit of a exhibitionist, it appears.

And there it was, all my friend’s dicks were out in the open. The first hurdle had been passed. I knew it was downhill from here.

Anita quieted down the crowd after a minute of cheers and photos being taken. “Okay, okay. So we’re going to let these guys actually compete to shield themselves with some little games we came up with, Ben and I.”

I saw some dicks wiggle as my friend’s clearly were caught off guard that I was a part of this to any extent other than telling Anita how I wanted my friends to go through the same ordeal as me.

“The first contest will be that of will and stability. Contestants, you have probably noticed the other holes in your box. Those are for your hands. Staff will present you with a tray of drinks, don’t worry, they’re water everyone, we wouldn't waste alcohol here!” She continued “They’ll be a little heavy. Last one to drop the tray will be removed from the game, and you want that.”

I’m sure my friends were running it in their heads; figuring out who was the weakest and who was the strongest. They probably thought Dan or Kevin would win since their arms were easily the largest, but they had no idea this was just a ruse.

“But first, how about a shot for our contestants?!” The crowd roared.

I’m not sure if the guys knew that my drink last night had been spiked with Viagra. If they did, potentially their desire for the alcohol superseded it since they all reached their hand out for the shot when presented it. This gave me a bit of intel though.

Mike’s tattooed arm came through hole 8, so now I knew he had a prominent vein on his dick. It was a good dick too.

I also noticed wedding bands on 2 and 10 which meant that it was Rodger and Brad but I’m not sure who. Which left Kevin, Dan, and my brother between the remaining three.

They gave back their empty shot glasses quickly enough and presented their hands for the trays of drinks. Idiots. 

“Alright, let’s get these drinks ready and stable.”

Unknown to the guys in the boxes, staff had arranged themselves on stage, adding handcuffs to the hooks outside. Just far enough for the other band to reach the unsuspecting wrists.

“Okay, thanks bartenders! Contestants, ready to balance some trays? Last to drop gets to leave.”

Eager to get out of this embarrassing game, especially number 3 who was chubbing up a bit further, 12 sets of forearms emerged, palms facing upward.

“Annnd, now!”

The second of time was filled with action. The 12 staff members, each assigned a wrist, latched a band onto the exposed hand in front of them. Instinctively, most hands shot back into the box, or tried to at least. Number 2 just shook his hands trying to wiggle free from whatever was put on them. I heard my friends shout in protest but with the wood in the way it was hard to tell who was who. I could definitely hear Kevin shout, “what the fuck!?”

All but Mike’s veiny dick and 2’s thick dick were pulled back into the box in shock. 

“And, one last thing.”

I heard more commotion from the boxes and light poured out from a few that were missing a dick. Demands of varying degrees left my friend’s mouths as two little straps emerged from the slits near their crotch hole. 

“Ben, would you like to do the honors?”

Anita asked me that in the mic which I happily replied yes to and climbed up on stage. I walked to 2 first, the thick guy with hairy balls that hadn’t jumped back and if anything pushed himself closer to the wood hoping to wiggle out of his shackles somehow. 

I grabbed each exposed strap and pulled. They locked in place with each centimeter I pulled, similar to a car strap. These nylon belts were my idea, to ensure constant embarrassment. Although Brad or Rodger wasn’t looking to pull his dick back, with the last tight pull of the straps he’d be unable to.

Then I moved to 3. I repeated the action as they pulled frantically at their wrists, hoping to come free. He fought me on the belt, but with my whole body weight as leverage, I pulled him fully against the wood and his now half-hard dick eagerly poked through. 

I repeated the steps on the remaining guys but 7 and 10 needed my help to actually get their dick out versus being squished against the inside of the box. I wasn’t necessarily happy to grab onto my friends’ junk but was happy that they were now permanently on display.

Once my job was done I took a step back to admire my work and my plan coming to fruition. All of my friends including my brother were bound in front of me. Shielded by a wooden barrier except for their hands and most private of areas bared for easily 200 gay men. Their exposed appendages wiggled and shook with rage as they tried to fight against the handcuffs and nylon belts, to no avail.

“And here we go everyone, the games can now actually begin.” Anita announced that little twist which caused my friends to stop shaking for a moment to listen closely.

“As some of you may know or have guessed, you’re trapped. There’s no opting out now, but thankfully you all signed that waiver.”

“SHIT!” I heard one of them yell.

“Now, we’re playing similarly to last night except, you don’t want to be out. Trust me. Although we’ll talk through those punishments when they come.” The crowd cheered and laughed with excitement. 

“The first game is easy enough though, and we’ve assisted you in it without you even knowing. Last to get hard, loses. The little mix of drugs we added to those shots should help you overcome any stage fright you might be experiencing though.”

Number 3 and 7 wiggled pathetically. 3 was nearing full hardness regardless and I’m sure the shaking of his dick wasn’t helping. Or did he want that?

“That’s all. No additional rules. Just don’t be the last one hard!”

And with that, the race was on. 

Mike actually was pretty smart. He began shaking his hips back and forth to hit his dick against the outside of the box. Since none of the guys could actually touch themselves, this was mimicking some sort of touch, and it was working.

30 seconds later both 3 and Mike were hard. I could now appreciate them a bit more. Mike was about the same size as me, maybe a bit bigger? I’d say 6.5”. The most noticeable thing though was that vein from earlier. Now with a hard cock, his vein was really prominent. Since his dick stuck straight out it was still easy to see.

Number 3 had already been chubbing up but with a few bobs of his cock his monster was up and ready. I’m not sure where the other guys would land, but 3 probably had the biggest dick, hands down. It was probably 8” by my guess but paired with his big balls the whole thing looked proportionate but massive compared to everyone else. Embarrassed as my friend was, I’d have to let him know later how much he outshined the other dudes.

2 was up next. Either Brad or Rodger because of the wedding ring. He retained his thickness but didn’t grow that much length wise. I knew I had him beat there so he was probably only 5” or so. That said, with his hairy balls and clear bush that was now pressed up against the hole, the masculinity of this guy's dick was pretty appealing. I hated to admit that it was actually kind of nice looking.

The race was coming down to 5, 7, and 10. They were all starting to chub but not nearly as fast. The already-hard guys stayed painfully so.

7 finally won out with a 6” peter. The excessive skin around the head of his dick evened out as he got hard but I wager there was still a looseness to it. I was a bit envious, to tell the truth. I bet that guy didn’t need lotion or anything to jack off. One of the things I had been jealous of when it came to uncut guys.

So here it was, it came down to 5 or 10.

Anita shared that information with the contestants which seemed to put additional anxiety on both of them. 5 was clenching his fists and 10 was beginning to bounce up and down a bit. If only they had taken Mike’s approach.

But two minutes into the challenge we had our first loser. 5’s dick stood up an impressive 7” or so with a mean tilt to the left while neapolitan dick was only half hard. 

“Annnd we have a loser, guys! Number 10 didn’t quite make it all the way, did he.”

The crowd cheered regardless. They had 6 dicks in front of them, all (pretty much) hard. Some were bobbing a bit obscenely.

“Now, here’s why you really don’t want to lose any of these games tonight. Ben?”

She extended her hand towards box 10 for me to demonstrate the real meaning behind the handcuffs. Right up the middle of the box were two vertical lines that you might have overlooked as lines in the plywood but they had actually been carved this morning. 

I got to box 10 and spoke loud enough for them to hear, “So close…”

I’m not sure what inspired me to act, but I grabbed onto my friend’s hardening dick and gave it some playful tugs. The human contact was all that was needed to get my mysterious friend fully hard in my hands. It was warm. Electric.

I then let go of his dick and placed my hand up into the box, grabbing the lip of the glory hole opening and yanked.

The thin vertical cuts in the board gave way with a loud snap and then I let go and stepped aside.

In almost slow motion, I saw the middle 80% of the box begin to fall forward, now separated from the rest of the formation.  It picked up speed quickly and within an instant I recognized the look of shock and fear on Rodger’s face as he was left standing there, trying to look past the bright lights into the audience of hundreds of gay men.

He wiggled, trying to free himself, but the belt and arm holes remained untouched. He could push himself further out onto the stage but that was it. The realization was terrifying for him.

“What the fuck!? Let me out of here!”

His wiggling only made his dick bounce comically against his tight balls for people to see and take photos of.

“Ah ah ah, big boy, for being our first loser you’ll be standing there exposed for the rest of the game.”

“WHAT?!” he shouted. His eyes adjusted enough to see me clearly. “Ben! What the fuck man!?”

“Payback’s a bitch.”

“THIS ISN’T THE SAME!!” He yelled. Dick bouncing as he did so. I just smiled and walked back to my seat to appreciate the view.

5 hard dicks through holes and one very exposed Rodger. He had his shirt on still but it wasn’t long and his jeans and boxers were pooled at his feet. I saw his thick, albeit a bit short, cock and balls dance in anger against his meaty thighs. His eyebrows furrowed in humiliation as he started to notice the hundreds of phones pointed at him.

“This isn’t fair!!!”

Anita responded to him, “Oh trust me, honey, you’re getting off easy. The punishments only get worse from here.”

The other guys must have figured out that Rodger was somehow exposed but unsure of how it happened, hidden in their own black rooms. Their dicks shook with fear.

Rodger looked down at his own exposed cock, bobbing against his will, ensuring everyone who wanted one got a nice shot. This meant number 2 had to be Brad, given the wedding bands. I looked back at his shorter, thicker, masculine dick. I wonder if he knew I had figured it out. Mike surely did, given his tattooed forearm. What nice dicks my friends had. Wait, did I say nice? Oh well.

“Okay, contestants, on to round two” Anita announced.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Cock in a Box (part 5)

AN: I had plans of a second installment to this series where Ben gets even and I’ve finally started it off. I hope you enjoy!

My revenge plot was brewing. Every pat on the back from a random gay guy, every comment about my dick or my cum show, fuck, even every razz at Kevin blowing me was another degree of heat added to my internal rage. But I couldn’t let it show, not yet.

Rodger and Mike seemed the most apologetic of my crew of friends, Brad the least. Kevin felt we were ‘fair’ since he had blown me which somehow he believed was actually worse. I contemplated whether I would have traded spots with him. He would have been fully exposed to our group but would I have blown a guy to have stayed clothed? I’m not sure.

Dan had found the whole ordeal funny but ‘nothing to worry about.’ It was ‘no big deal, so some gay guys saw your dick, who cares?’

“You looking to whip it out too then?” I had asked, playfully but with mental daggers to my words. He laughed it off and turned to talk to Sean, my younger brother. I couldn’t believe Sean had let this all happen. Sure, I had been a bit of a bully to him when we were kids but that’s just how brothers were. I couldn’t believe that he would let this happen to his brother. Even worse that he had watched!

And while there was a bit of anonymity, being in Vegas, guys now had pictures of my nudity and pictures of my face. Separate, at least, but they knew. They could post them anywhere!

I had to get even.

I had to get them worse than how they got me.

It wasn’t until I had gotten a moment alone with Anita Gudphuck, the MC of the show, that it started to become a concrete plan. I was slightly perturbed by her, or him? But the opportunity to get my ‘friends’ back was enough to create a treaty in my mind. We exchanged numbers and I began texting her. 

Oh wow, you’re sadistic. She sent me that text after I outlined my plan while my friends drunkenly benefited from my free tab.

You have no idea. Can you make the changes by tomorrow? I replied to her.

Fuck yes. This will be the best show yet.

I encouraged her to make this the most crowded event yet and after tonight’s show, she was sure every gay man there would tell their friends about the secret event happening the next night that promised to top it.

Setting the trap for my friends was tough, though. As the night at the bar progressed, I began to act a bit upset and frustrated that I was the only one actually participating. That it wasn’t fair and they should have to actually play the game.

“I fucking sucked your dick for my crimes, dude, I’m exhonerated.” Kevin was still trying to convince me that we were even. As if.

Dan mentioned that, “They apparently only do those on Fridays so we missed our chance. But you can expect great wedding presents as penance.”

“You better have already gotten me great wedding presents, you dick!” I shot back.

He just shrugged and laughed it off. Mike was actually the one to say the line I was hoping for, “If they had it every night or something, I’d agree, but they don’t. Sorry Ben.”

Rodger echoed his apologies and willingness to have participated if they could. The other guys agreed or nodded along, except for Kevin that is.

Cue Anita.

“Do mine ears deceive me?” she appeared almost out of nowhere at Mike’s comment. “Marty, how’s the tongue? Still got dick taste on it?”

We laughed while Kevin pursed his lips and looked down.

Mike reitoreatted, “we were saying that a bunch of us felt bad and wish we could pay Ben back or something.”

“Well,” she admitted, “I could talk to the owner, see what I could do for an encore show tomorrow night.”

The men’s eyes went wide. I spoke first, “Oh would you?! That would be wonderful, Anita!” I turned to my ‘friends’ and brother to put their money where their mouths were, so to speak. No one was pleased about this opportunity Anita had presented us with.

Kevin, no surprise, was the first to push back. “No fucking way. I agree these dipshits should have to play but I did my part.”

Brad chimed in, “But it was your idea in the first place Kevin. The only reason you did it was to keep that a secret!”

“Which, it clearly didn’t stay that way. So I sucked a dick for nothing.”

I yelled, “nothing?! A bunch of gay guys have a picture of my dick and my face out there!”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Ben,” Kevin tried to tell me.

“It isn’t? Then it sounds like you’re happy to play?!”

He started to get upset with me. “No way Ben, I’m not doing it.”

I honestly was pissed but spoke harsher than I potentially intended to set up the trap. “Fuck you.” I looked at all of them but kept my eyes mostly on Kevin. “You guys went too far on this ‘prank.’ Honestly, I’m not sure that I can forgive you but if you have to go through the same shit as me, maybe I can.”

Dan was nervous. “Ben, we’re really sorry. Honestly.”

“A fat load of good that does when I just got blown on stage.”

They couldn’t meet my eyes. They knew they went too far but no one was eager to take my place after having seen what happened to me. They worried they’d have the same experience although they didn’t know how much more I had in store for them if this worked.

Kevin stood firm. “I’m not doing it, Ben.”

We stood there, lips locked waiting for someone to say something. 

“Well this is getting awkward, boys.” Anita was the one to break the tension, slightly.

“Hardly. Fine, be that way, but you’re out of the wedding.” I said, mostly towards Kevin.

“Fuck if I care,” he replied.

“Ben, come’on.” Some of the guys tried to reason with me. That I was taking this too far.

“No, fuck him! And fuck you guys too. You’re all out. If you could do this shit to your friend and not feel obligated to pay up, then fuck you. I don’t want to see any of you again.” I spoke that last line to my brother specifically.

I stormed off. Mike tried to stop me but I shot daggers at him with my eyes.

They don’t know if you’re serious. Anita’s text came through a minute later as I walked the strip by myself. The one with the tattoo is considering it though.

That would be Mike. He was probably the most empathetic out of our group. Well I couldn’t give them any leeway or sign of weakness from my end. I had to be steadfast at my resolve to never see them again unless they participated and let me get ‘even.’

I ignored their texts and their calls. My fiance even called me once to make sure I was okay. Apparently they called her and, without giving anything specific away, said they had pranked me and I was being a poor sport. I dodged her questions on the prank and shared how little I cared for them. Sarah wasn’t exactly a fan of a few of my guy friends so she was happy to jump on the bandwagon of throwing shit their way.

I told her they were out of the wedding, yes even Sean, and while she was a bit shocked and hesitant at first, she was happy that I was looking to cut these rowdy guys from my life. After we hung up, she must have relayed my seriousness to my friend’s partners or maybe them directly, because 15 minutes later I got a text from Anita with a winky face and a text from Kevin saying just a single word: fine.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

The Flight | Part 4

[Last Part]

I kept that determination for the next half an hour or so as I sat in the terminal waiting for boarding and the eventual boarding process. Just a few hours on the plane and I’d be home free once I landed and got my luggage. I contemplated changing in the airport when I arrived instead of waiting until I got to my hotel.

I walked down the aisle of the plane looking for 18B. I counted in my head as I squeezed past people stowing their luggage or attempting to get comfortable. One lady while rummaging through her purse in her seat grazed my junk with her elbow. She looked up and said “Oh, sorry about that” but I don’t think she realized what she had touched. Thank god. A second later I was past her, so no worries about her figuring it out either.

15… 16… 17…

There! Row 18. 

Oh, duh. Of course seat B was in the middle. The aisle seat had already been taken by an older dude, maybe 50, who was buckled in and reading a magazine. He was pretty handsome, and judging by his attire, he was traveling for work. Some type of business man I wagered.

“Hey man, I’m there.” I pointed to the middle seat to signal to him that I needed to get through. He looked up at me and just raised an eyebrow before letting out a big sigh. Instead of unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping into the aisle like most well-mannered humans would do, he just sat back in his seat a little further and bent his legs to the side.

Really dude? I wanted to make a big deal about it but I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself. I just gritted my teeth and attempted to step over his legs to get into my seat. I chose to go in with my ass facing him because I couldn’t bring myself to have my crotch be eye-level with a guy. It was definitely the right choice, but it wasn’t great that the tight space means for a few seconds I was rubbing my cock hard against the back of row 17. 

I must still be young at heart, or at least in my dick, because it responded pretty quickly to the physical contact and by the time I plopped back into my seat, I was chubbed up. Luckily the guy seemed to pay no attention to me whatsoever and I was able to quickly buckle and put my book in my lap. 

With any luck, seat A woudln’t show up and I could move over a seat when we started to take off, giving me more distance between me and businessman.

Of course I didn’t have any luck though.

After a few minutes of people walking past our row and making me hold my breath with each driveby, a young twink took out his headphone to say “I’m in there, guys.” He gestured to the window seat similar to how I had and business guy gave him the same response.

The twink was more vocal than I was though. “Dude, just get up.”

People behind him were getting agitated that the line had been halted. The business dude replied, “just get in there already” while gesturing his head towards the window. 

The young guy rolled his eyes and muttered, “whatever” under his breath but purposefully loud enough to be heard. He took the same approach as me, butt facing us, as he shimmied his way towards his seat. Unlike me, though, he had a bag with him that he held in front of himself as he went. This pushed him further away from the seats so he had to sort of squat-step over us.

I tried to spread my legs as wide as I could to give him room to place a firm footing which was great for his left leg. However, as he brought his right leg in to meet it he snagged it on something (probably the rude businessman’s leg) and fell into my lap!

Now, it was only a second, maybe two tops. And he had landed with his ass on me, through jeans, so I’m sure he couldn’t ‘feel’ anything but it was still shocking. Especially because I had moved my book up to my chest as I leaned back to give him as much space.

While his ass probably didn’t feel my dick, my dick certainly felt his ass.

“Shit, sorry!” he gasped as he jumped back up and over to basically jump into his seat. I quickly replaced the book atop my bulge and said through a gasp, “it’s-- it’s fine.”

He shuffled beside me to get his bag stowed, buckled in, and replaced his headphones to listen to whatever he had been on his phone to begin with. 

So… that was horrible. BUT, it was all over. I was in my seat now and our row was filled. I had my book shield and once we took off I could use my tray as cover as well. Just a few hours left.

The attendants went through the safety spiel with almost-zero audience engagement and the plane moved towards the runway for take-off. The business guy was still reading his magazine and the twink was slumped against the hull of the plane looking at his phone. From how he was leaning and holding his phone out though, he could have easily been looking at my thighs. 

He couldn’t see anything, mind you, since I had my book to cover myself with, but the thought started to get me going. Not knowing whether or not he was checking me out was a bit exciting.

I looked away from his direction to my right. Business guy had on black slacks that hugged his thighs. The man had a few extra pounds on him, but with the cut of the pants you couldn’t really tell if it was all muscle or not. I accidentally dared to let my eyes wander up to his pouch and wowza was it looking good.

No definition in the uniformed bulge but the mass of stuff down there seemed more than mine at the very least. It would suck for him to get hard too. He probably had underwear on, but with pants that tight it really wouldn't matter.

Shit, I really shouldn’t be thinking things like this right now.

That’s when the plane began it’s acceleration down the runway. The combination of dirty thoughts and seat vibration was too much to manage and before the plane left the ground I was fully hard in my shorts.

My book wasn’t huge but luckily it was just big enough to cover my cock that was painfully straining to fight against it. With each heartbeat I could feel it push up so I pushed equally hard down against it, doing nothing to calm it down.

A minute or two later, we were flying steadily, and I breathed in a sigh of relief. I was still painfully hard, but now I could just post up and read until we landed. I reached up for my seat tray and cursed under my breath as it appeared to be stuck after an inch or so. 

Fuck me.

That was going to be my shield so that I could read. While I could open and hold my book down against my crotch I don’t think I could actually read in that angle and with the book that far away from my eyes. I leaned my head back in defeat.

Tilting my head to the left, twink was looking out the window now. He still had his phone playing some podcast in his ears but at least I knew he wasn’t looking at me. To my right, business guy was still reading absent-mindedly. I bet his tray table worked… No way he would switch with me though.

His pouch looked a little more plump though.

NO! No more thoughts like that. I had to try and get soft and get through this flight. The only thing I could think to do was close my eyes and think about my trip. Get my mind off this situation, you know?

I was excited to see my friends. It had been a few years since we’d been together in person, and quite frankly it had been a while since I’ve been with anyone really given the pandemic. Having the long weekend ahead to just chill and catch up was going to be so much fun. The only hard part I had to face there was finding a place to eat we could all agree on. 

I smiled to myself and replayed some fond memories of my buds to get my mind off things. It worked. Too well.

I awoke to the *ding* of the intercom saying we’d be landing shortly and passengers should stow their items and put their trays up into an upright and locked position. 

Wow, the early morning flight must have kept my more tired than I thought. AND it had flown by in what seemed like a few minutes. I laughed at my internal pun.

Until I freaked out.

I had cracked my knuckles and in doing so realized my book was not in my hands. Instead, between my legs, was a tent with obscene VPL.

My dick had been angled down and away from my body so it could only pull up about two inches or so before the fabric became too taut but that meant that all 6.5 thick inches of my cock was being displayed perfectly, just with a thin, blue sheet of fabric obscuring the finest of details. 

I panicked and leaned forward, looking for my book. Thankfully it was just behind my feet so I was able to grab it and replace it as a shield but my heart was racing. 

Who knows how long it had been dropped. Did the motion draw either guys attention when it did? Was I hard then? Did that twink take photos with his phone? Did the attendants see when they came through offering drinks and snacks? Did they silently point it out and laugh, encouraging others to quietly come see the idiot with his dick basically on display?!

I sat there, turning pale with my thoughts. 

The only positive in all of this was that I quickly became flaccid. This fear was too real now. I had definitely been showing off my boner for a while and there’s almost no way that twink didn’t notice. The business guy was reading a different magazine so I’m sure he noticed too during the switch.

Fuck.

Other than the hell I was creating in my mind, thank god nothing else of note really happened. When we de-planed I kept my book in front of me the entire time and took my luggage directly to the bathroom to switch into briefs and jeans.

I can’t believe I went through with this stupid challenge and it seems like everything that could have went wrong, did. 

I woudln’t be stupid enough to take on a dare like this again. No way. I learned my lesson.

At least, for a while...

[thenakedgingerwrites]

The Flight | Part 3

I had survived the worst and most invasive part of the trip. Now came the boring part of waiting for my flight as I get to the airport with plenty of time to spare just in case. I pulled out my book and began to fade into the words while I waited for the 45 minutes to count down before boarding. 

A few minutes in though I noticed a cute guy directly across from me. It was unclear what flight he was waiting on, but he was reclined and absent mindedly swiping on his phone. As he zoned out to his little screen I couldn’t help but check out the shorts he had chosen to wear that morning. 

They were a fuller fabric than my own but about a foot shorter and in his reclined position, they cupped his bulge nicely. He was probably wearing underwear though as there was no VPL that I could discern. Just a whole lot of something going on down there. 

He looked over at me and I shot my eyes back down to my book, afraid I had been caught. I pretended to scan the pages with my eyes but retained no words. My mind was still focused on the fear and rush of being caught and the desire to go back for more.

I waited a minute or so before looking up again. He was back on his phone and his bulge was-- bigger? Was that just my imagination? Either real or not, it was having a very real effect on my own. I thought to myself that I needed to get out of here. The temptation was going to lead to something bad, one way or another, and I wasn’t going to sabotage myself like this.

I got up, shielding my growing cock with my book, and moved further away from the gate to seats that were mostly vacant to try and actually read and distract myself. Thankfully my trouser snake went back to sleep after a few minutes and I was able to fall into the pages of my book.

About 20 minutes or so later, I looked up between chapters to see the people beginning to gather around the gates and in the seats that were previously scarcely filled. That’s when I noticed the guy from the pre-check line. He was sitting across from me now, with his head tilted and his phone out.

I thought, what a weird angle to sit at. He’s going to hurt his neck if he sits like that for too long. I furrowed my brow trying to understand when I scratched my ankle. My ankle that was raised and resting on my knee that I had placed there without thinking. 

The loose shorts were open and facing directly at that cute guy. My face must have flushed. I quickly put my leg down and closed them together which caught his attention. Had he been using his phone to look up my shorts? Did he see anything? Did he take photos?! Was his attention on me because I had covered up my cock and balls or simply because I moved suddenly.

There was no way to know, other than to go ask him I guess but that was clearly out of the question. So instead I pretended to resume reading, aware now that I may have been flashing him and anyone else walking by who decided to look near my thighs. This challenge had seemed so easy and somewhat tame a few hours ago and now I was debating just cancelling and taking a cab home. 

But even my house keys were in my bag. I literally had no options but to travel.

Oh well. At this point, the most physical experience was over and I learned my lesson about being unaware of my lower half. For the rest of the day I’d sit with my legs clenched and my book in my lap. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Nothing was going to go wrong with the rest of my trip. I just knew it.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Want to send me some pictures?

Always.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

The Flight | Part 2

Check-in was pretty uneventful. I felt like people were staring but honestly that was more in my head than anything else. Also, no one wants to be at the airport, especially not early in the morning. I handed my bag over to the front desk lady and took my ticket, phone, wallet, and book for the ride along to TSA.

This is where the nerves started to bubble up again. What if they had to search me? I was pretty confident that wouldn’t happen since I only had shorts and a t-shirt on and no bag, but my mind was jumping to the worst case scenario.

As I got in line for security check-in, I got frustrated with the pre-check people. Their line was so short while I was stuck here behind at least a hundred people. There was one guy, sort of young and a little cute who seemed to be checking me out. When he caught me looking at him, he gave a little smirk. Okay, he was definitely checking me out.

I started to feel a familiar lust tingle traveling down my spine and quickly looked down to my shorts. The good news, I wasn’t hard and would not be getting hard anytime soon because the bad news: my shorts were more transparent than I thought.

In my dim-lit apartment and in the car earlier I couldn’t make out any detail of my skin underneath; however, in the bright fluorescent light of the airport that was very different. Between the blue fabric was dotted with the color of my skin peeking through all those little holes. And with the all-around lighting of the airport, the outline of my cock, especially the head, was pretty fucking visible. 

Panic had set in, but I had no options. I was stupid enough to not take a bag with me with any other clothes and my clothes and keys were in my suitcase, checked and already heading towards the plane. I literally had no options but to continue onward.

Fuck me.

I moved forward with the line. I used the book I had to cover my bulge and avoided eye contact with that hot guy. I couldn't help but wonder how visible my ass was though. I tried to push those thoughts away but all I could focus on was how exposed I felt.

It took nearly 20 minutes to finally make it up to the machines but I was happy to be nearly through. From this point on I could just sit somewhere and shield my lower body from any eyes. I pulled a tub up and placed my few items in there before stepping up to the x-ray line.

I forgot about those. I still remember the traditional metal detectors but these were more invasive in my opinion, even if they were better for detecting weapons. I had seen photos of their results on the internet and how you could make out guy’s dicks through jeans and here I was in loose nylon. Whoever was operating the machine would definitely have a crystal clear view of my junk! At least in the photos I saw the outlines of things were all one monotone green color, but still…

I stepped up to the platform and the guard instructed me to mimic the position shown on a sign pasted inside the machine: feet spread and arms above your head. Usually the machine runs instantly but it wasn’t.

I looked over to the guard and he was either zoning out or staring at me. I of course assumed the latter and gulped. Could he notice my bulge? I didn’t have my book or even my hands to cover up right now either. I didn’t dare look down for fear of confirming my suspicions.

The seconds dragged on until another guard or agent came up and said something to him. 

“Ugh, again?” he responded back to her. “These things are always acting up.”

The machine wasn’t operating, which meant he probably wasn’t actually staring at me and also meant my body wouldn't be scanned which gave me a moment of relief.

“Alright, sir, I need you to step over here onto this mat.”

Until I realized what that would mean.

“I need you to put your arms up like a T.”

Fuck.

I did as instructed as other travelers were routed to a traditional metal detector. Just my fucking luck. As I stood there with my arms out he patted my torso down with his hands. As he trailed down it took every ounce of me to resist any lustful thoughts or urges.

“Okay, sir. I’m going to pat down your shorts but I’ll be using the back of my hand, okay?”

I stammered out a “Oh, sure” being unsure of what else to say or even what my alternative options were. He went down the outside of my thigh first which was already pretty sensitive with only the nylon material rubbing against them but then he started moving up the inner side.

I could feel the blood beginning to flow. It was only a few seconds but it felt like minutes as his gloved hand rubbed up my thigh, bringing my shorts with it. The sensation was too much. I was being tickled basically and my legs flexed and quivered in response. When he reached my pouch I could feel the pressure of his hand against my balls, lifting them, and it was too much for me not to make a little moan.

“Alright. Anything in your pockets I should know about?”

I looked down at him. “What? No. Everything I had is in the bin.”

“Okay.”

I had not realized that this meant he was going in them though until his fingers invaded my right pocket. I clenched again and lifted my thigh a bit to keep his fingers away from my cock which was growing no matter how much I wanted it not to.

With him pulling on my shorts to get into my pocket, that thankfully kept them tighter to my body, pushing my half-chub away from his prying fingers. A moment of relief but quickly replaced with anxiety as his other hand entered my left pocket.

These stupid shorts had pockets that were ample size. It was a benefit for me having to carry a handful of things in them alone, but was now the bane of my existence as his hand had to dig to get to the bottom. While my pocket was indeed empty, that didn’t stop his fingers from finding something adjacent to it…

I gasped a tiny breath as his two fingers brushed up against the head of my dick. His thumb caught up to examine this foreign object with better grasp as he asked “Sir, what is th--”

As he got a firmer hold on the top of my dick he realized what he had grabbed at the same time that I let out a hissing sound from intaking air through my clenched teeth. 

He shot up and took a step back, momentarily looking at my now much-more-visible bulge in my shorts. Probably straight and just as uncomfortable as I was at the moment, he just said, “Uh, you’re fine. You can put your hands down too.”

I did so quickly but took a look at the obscene little tent I had created in my shorts as I did. Turning around, I found my bin of belongings and got my shoes on as quickly as possible. Then, grabbing my stuff, I shoved them in front of my crotch and sped walked away. Not before seeing the guard talking to some other guys and them looking over in my direction.

Shit. I’m sure he was telling them some letch had gotten a boner and made him touch it. I needed to retreat to a safe space.

Once I made it to my gate, I started to feel a bit calmer. My boner had fully vanished and any witnesses to my situation were likely far away. I sighed.

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Story Challenge

I saved this image who knows how long ago with the idea that a story would come to me but nothing’s quite stuck in my mind. I welcome my other writers to see if it does anything for them, and if so, please share!

Either way, it’s a hot photo.