So, I’m currently working on a more involved article all about male nudity and the different lenses our culture views it through. But, in the meantime, I thought I’d publish another article I’ve been meaning to write for a while. It’s just a fun little piece testing Tumblr’s limits on their new nudity policy that I’ll be posting there (if their filter doesn’t block it) as well as posting it here. It’s got a few pics of some sexy men and also involves a fictionalized scenario involving a pretty big icon of horror, I think, that’s been around for decades. Should be a fun read. That’ll be my next entry here, shortly. May also write a few more fluff pieces or little fun articles I’ve had in mind for a while as I’m working on my main article. Thanks, all!
Category: Uncategorized
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Joseph Dain. If this name doesn’t sound familiar, it should. Let me jog your memory with one memorable scene:
Picture it: two arrogant college-rich kids arrive in the bad part of town to score some drugs. But when they’re forced up to the roof of an apartment building, they’re not taught about the evils of drug use via a resurgence of the D.A.R.E. program. Instead, they’re made to hand over their clothes before their threads star in the latest remake of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’,” as envisioned by the thugs throwing their garments over the roof. What follows is the two naked and embarrassed guys wandering around the building looking for some help. However, they seem to have forgotten that this is a town on the wrong side of the tracks, and people are more suspicious than helpful. So their attempts are in vain, much like D.A.R.E. attempted to try and convince their target audience that “drugs aren’t cool.”
While this part of the film may be a staple in the community of those of us who follow such scenes, and while, yes, even I have gotten off to it a few times, there is one important thing missing. While you do see the two guys’ butts for a while, their fronts are covered by their hands. Not to mention that the camera doesn’t dare go south of the equator unless it’s shielded and covered tighter than the chastity device on Amy Yasbeck’s character in Mel Brook’s “Robin Hood: Men In Tights.”
The aggressor was played by Micky Rourke. A former heartthrob from the ’80s who starred in films like “Diner”, “9 ½ Weeks” and “Angel Heart”. The dark-haired guy was played by Joseph Dain.
From about 2003 to 2004, Joseph Dain would parlay this exposure into a very short-lived portion of his career, where he starred in a few softcore movies involving minimal plots and men wearing minimal to no clothing. Imagine something like 2000’s Voodoo Academy. Except instead of featuring beautiful guys in their jockey shorts, they featured hunks sans jockey shorts.
However, the same can’t be said of Mr. Dain. He decided to carry on his modest status, even in films like this. And, for the longest time, I never understood it. Here, you have this good-looking guy surrounded by a bunch of other hunky, built dudes just letting their ding-dongs flop in the wind, while Dain only goes as far as to show this much:
Let’s take his debut into this foray, shall we?
In the film, Dain plays a character named Clayton. Clayton is secretly obsessed with his best friend, Brian, played by Chris Michaels. Clayton is living with not only Brian but a bunch of other dudes in this bachelor pad scenario. Of course, all the guys look like centerfolds. While pining for Brian, Clayton gets lost in these fantasies where he’s picturing the various men fashioning the suits they were born in.
Here is a breakdown of some of those guys:
We have Julian Cocoa as Raymond. A rent guy Clayton hires to put on a private performance for him while his roommates are away. Raymond then puts on a strip show and bares all.
Then, we have Steven. A neighbor played by Adam Blinn, whom Clayton spies on while he’s washing his car before proceeding to fantasize about said neighbor in the buff.
And then we have Chris Michaels, playing his best friend. Near the end, Clayton can’t take it anymore and wants to make his fantasy a reality. So, he does the reasonable thing and confesses to Brian, and they have a deep, meaningful conversation. Actually, no, no, that’s not what happens. Clayton goes a little psycho, ties him to a chair, and then proceeds to rip his clothes off.
Again, all this male nudity, all this dick flyin’ everywhere, and how much does Dain show of himself? Let’s review:
That’s pretty much it. So, you’re tellin’ me that this actor is starring in a movie where all these other guys are running around the set and revealing everything they’ve got to the camera and, even in one scene, where Dain, himself, is actually tearing the clothes off of one of the actors and we still see his penis, but all we get to see of you, Mr. Dain, is your butt? Oh, bravo, man. How brave you are to wiggle your ass for a few seconds while your co-workers are showing far more.
This wasn’t just a one-time thing, either. Dain continued this imbalance of exposure in two more films: 2004’s Group Therapy and 2004’s sequel to Daydream Obsession, Daydream Obsession 2: Infidelities.
After these films, he left gay softcore erotica and moved on to low-budget horror and TV, according to his list of credits on IMDB. However, his main page on IMDB lists him as “Joe” Dain instead of “Joseph” Dain. And even though his softcore films are included, you’d have to scroll down and expand the “actor” category to see them. They’re nowhere to be found on his main list of films he’s starred in. It’s almost as if he just wants you to forget about them.
But let’s investigate why Joseph, I’m sorry, “Joe” Dain would want to put these movies far, far behind him. Is it because he’s a fuckin’ hypocritical prude who refuses to show much of anything, despite that being the main point of the films he was the main character in? HELL, YES!! But, hey, I’m not bitter.
The other reason is because of Hollywood itself. Only recently has full-frontal male nudity become less taboo, both in film and TV. Film, however, is slower on that front. This is mainly because all the people on the ratings board are hypocritical prudes and are more ready to condemn anything more sexual than they are to anything violent. I highly recommend you watch the 2006 documentary “This Film Is Not Yet Rated” to get more information on that. Not only is it a fun film to see, but it is highly informative and reveals how antiquated and unnecessary the MPAA is in today’s world.
There has been more of a stigma against men showing what they’ve got between their legs than against women. And if “Joe” Dain were to actually go full frontal in these movies, then he may not have been able to proceed into the career he wanted for himself. All because the studios would have likely taken one look at his previous work and said, Oh, it looks like you were involved in gay porn. I’m sorry, but we are cleaner than that here. Okay, let’s get ready for that graphic, bloody death scene. As for you, get out of our sight! You make us SICK!
Maybe it wouldn’t have been that extreme, but, I’m sure, there would have been some bias and prejudice, at least causing some resistance in him moving forward simply by showing his willy.
Even though frontal male nudity is becoming more common, when it has come to ENM scenes in the past, especially ones involving disrobing or being disrobed by force, the penis was still only doing one show a year:
The Heist – 1989 skip to 23:30
Pierce Brosnan plays a man who’s recently been released from prison after serving a four-year sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. In this scene, he lures two goons down on the beach and shows he’s packin’. An actual gun, that is. He makes the two henchmen undress. And when one of them asks, “Keep our shorts on?” Pierce’s character slyly smiles and says, “Please.” We see this time and time again. A guy is running around with not much on, and the other men in the scene are not only trying to shield themselves from seeing anything, but they’re also acting like they need a bucket to vomit in. Because another man’s anatomy is just so offensive and so horrid to look at that it traumatizes them to such a degree that they end up in a mental institution: Poor George over there. Can’t talk, can’t speak. Because he was playing a game of strip Monopoly, and he happened to see a male player’s beef bus swing from the corner of his eye.
At least in this scene, Pierce isn’t that blatant about it. And even when one of the guys says he “can’t swim,” he makes it a point to look directly at the guy’s bikini briefs and respond by saying, “Of course not. You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” I’m not necessarily sure what that means, but I’m certain it’s something snarky and British.
Pierce plays the part with less repulsion and, let’s face it, homophobia as some other actors of the time in scenes similar to this nature. There’s still an underlying shadow of rigidity. Honestly, I think he does the best he can with the material he’s given, and his charm and charisma kind of make it work. And I’m not sure if looking at the dude’s package was improvised or not, but I’d like to think so. If only for the fact that he wanted to play it with a certain level of comfort and shy away from a heteronormative train of thought that was the reality for many films existing in that era. And while there were plenty of homoerotic scenes made in the oblivious attempt to display machismo (I’m looking at you, valley ball scene from 1986’s “Top Gun”) it was still understood that they were only supposed to be shown up to a certain point. Perhaps the two guys showing rear ends after taking off everything may not have been what the director envisioned. But if this were to show frontal nudity of these two muscle-bound bouncers, it probably would have been slapped with an X rating, and there would be no chance of this getting a wide release. The film probably would have been even more obscure had the men bared all, and it wouldn’t have been so easily found on YouTube.
Peaky Blinders was a British series brought to the States and streamed on Amazon. (currently not a part of Prime, though). In this scene, Cillian Murphy makes two men undress for the visual pleasure of a couple of women. While we do get a nice look at their butts, we don’t see any frontal nudity… at all. The camera even stops at the waist.
Okay, first off, this show is British. We’re talking about a country that has a reality show about naked people competing to hook up. So, they have a show like that, but they can’t even show a couple of guys’ dicks in what, from what I understand, is a pretty violent and graphic show? The UK is usually more liberal than that. America may have a history of minimal frontal male nudity on the screen, but I am not sure why Britain would be following suit.
Thomas Jane plays an officer who pulls over a guy to get more information from him. While doing so, he has the man perform a strip search in the street. And he doesn’t even let him have his clothes back. It’s a hot scenario, and one that I’ve certainly gone to the self-service station with.
However, as hot as this scene is, I still would have liked to have seen some dong from the guy being made to take his clothes off on a heavily populated city street. However, I have to wonder: if that were the case, would this scene have been made public on ThisVid? As many of you know, while ThisVid is a great resource for ENM and even has quite a few scenes with frontal nudity, it’s also notorious for the majority of those scenes being under lock and key, and whether you see them depends on whether the person that has that scene in their collection allows you access. I’ve found that that’s kind of a 50/50 shot.
The actor that is being made to strip is played by Devon Werkheiser, who got his big break on the Nickelodeon show Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide. Maybe it was his choice not to go full frontal because this was how he got started. And, again, what does that say about our culture? That a man being seen fully from the front could do damage to his career? Why should it be? Wouldn’t it show dedication to the scene? Be more authentic?
However, today, directors are actually taking more chances. In addition to queer storylines being put to the forefront, when it comes to ENM, the penis has been upgraded to a guest-starring role in more works. There’s a liberation starting to happen:
Thandiwe Newton plays one of the robots that’s been gaining more sentience in a futuristic park. In this scene, amidst a rebellion of the robots, she makes one of the developers, played by Simon Quarterman, strip completely naked, and you see Simon’s uncircumcised penis flop around for a few seconds.
The Righteous Gemstones – Season 1, Episode 3
A group of thugs are hired to come in and start tearin’ shit up to send a message to Eli Gemstone, played by John Goodman. However, Eli puts a stop to it with his handy gun and decides to send the person who hired these goons a message of his own. So he forces all of them to strip everything off.
While this scene does show some dick, I have to admit, I really would have liked to see some dick from the hot, beefy redhead.
From how John Goodman is playing it, I can totally picture him saying something like, Got something to hide? You weren’t too shy about tearin’ through this place. C’mon, let’s see how much of a man you all are. You’re all big and tough? Why don’t you take those hands away and show us how proud and brave you are?
But, alas, he doesn’t. I, personally, think it would fit the scene more, especially a scene like this brimming with bravado that is nearly devoid of any kind of homophobic or heteronormative subtext. If these men are made to take everything off, then we should be seeing them made to show everything off. Perhaps the ginger-haired actor in this scene didn’t want to go full frontal, but how often do you think women were given the same choice in the past? Times may be changing, but there have been decades and decades of imbalance between male and female nudity to make up for.
And while we have made progress, we still get scenes like this:
The very hot and very hairy Will Forte is forced to strip completely naked by a group of mysterious kidnappers hiding behind the booming speakers from inside a tank. The scene is pretty nice, and it’s another one I’ve certainly enjoyed in the past. However, when it comes to seeing Mr. Forte from the front, this is the best we get:
That is so far away that I don’t even think Tumblr would consider this nudity. And why is the scene like this? Well, perhaps the answer lies in a comment made by Will Forte’s character: “C’mon, guys, it’s really cold out here!” Sure enough, everyone looks at Will’s willy as if investigating the deep, philosophical answer to life’s big questions.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a little tired of this. The ol’ his-dick-is-so-small-it’s-not-even-considered-fun-size joke as a reason to not show a dick in full display and close enough to appreciate it. I know that there are people out there who get off on the humiliation of small penises, or SPH, but I don’t consider myself one of them. With that said, I’m sure even an SPH fan would have wanted to see what Will Forte had to show off, and not from FIFTEEN THOUSAND GOD-DAMN LIGHT YEARS AWAY! This may be a fetish, but I don’t think that’s why this scene was made. I think that this is a layover from the more restrictive days of TV. Using a guy’s size to demean him and make him feel less than, and I, for one, would rather that be a relic kept in the past (aside from when it is a fetish and made for the sole purpose of satisfying that, I don’t kink shame). In addition to the fact that there’s this misogynistic intensity fused deep into the fabric of the thought process behind scenes like this. How often is there that joke made where a guy gets a magnum-sized condom to overcompensate? God forbid anyone to doubt your manliness and masculinity. Because you’re a BIG MAN! Others shall cower at the sheer veracity, power, and strength of your throbbing piece of man meat. We should all be bowing to you and admiring such virility in the epitomes of masculinity. And while this probably wasn’t what the director had in mind, it most likely is a joke that has its roots in such troubling groundwork.
For an example of a piece of media that’s a little more brave, we have to go all the way to France:
Satya Dusaugey is certainly no stranger to frontal nudity, as he previously displayed in 2016’s Tapette. Nu is a series about a police officer who wakes up from a coma and finds that societal standards about the body have changed. The law has made it so that, now, if you are clothed and covering up your private parts, it is considered indecent. Because of the culture shock, Satya’s character endures due to this sudden pride in nudism and exhibitionism now being an integral part of society, he inevitably ends up in quite a few ENM scenarios. And unlike other works of media that involve a scene where a man’s nudity is brought up in humiliating ways, they made this pretty much the entire premise of the show. Not only that, but they managed to work in some pretty complex emotions and even make it go deeper than just, well, skin deep. And Dusaugey, it seems, is not shy when it comes to his work. He plays the part to perfection. Because of his unabashed nature, we get many, many, maaaaany scenes where Satya’s completely on display and has no qualms about acting in such exposing conditions. This kind of show probably wouldn’t fly here in the States, even on streaming platforms like Netflix or Amazon, where actors like Nick Clifford have gone full frontal. While male nudity is getting there, I don’t think the American streaming services may be ready for a show so matter-of-fact about the male genitalia.
As I said before, with platforms like ThisVid, the availability of ENM scenes involving frontal nudity being limited to private videos and a community that’s split on the level of access to such media far outweighs the easily available videos you can find where a man is in a situation where his clothes are taken away and you see everything.
This video, for example, which I only know by the title:
Bearded Hunk Can’t Keep His Clothes On
In this comedic short, a rather attractive man lives in a house that’s haunted. But it’s not haunted by any ghost. It’s a ghost that randomly undresses him. The film work is inventive in how the guy’s shirt opens up and his fly is unzipped, seen from accurate angles to give the appearance that his clothing is being removed by an invisible force.
This is an online video that I never really got into. I’m sure others will find it hot, but, as for me, it just pisses me off. Apologies to the actor here; he put a lot of effort and work into this short, and it shows. But for a video with such an inventive and sexy premise and this kind of talent behind the camera, there should be more of a pay-off, I think. You see, this ghost doesn’t necessarily understand the concept of “naked.” It always stops at his undershirt and underwear. We don’t even get to see his undershirt being removed. So, basically, he’s dressed down to the point that he might as well be sporting a shirt and form-fitting shorts. Why aren’t we seeing everything? Why isn’t this unique and creative camera work being used to go further??
However, let’s say it did go further. Let’s say it not only stripped this nice-looking guy to nothing but forced his hands in place, and we actually see his dick swingin’. Would this actually be a public video? Would it be so easily found?
Let me answer that with a previous search I’ve done in the past. When I’m online and I go to just Google or Bing and look up “men forced to strip,” I do find scenes, but they’re often scenarios and snippets either made for commercial networks where it’s played safe or where it’s just shy of seeing everything. But, in this same search, results of ENF, or embarrassed nude females, are mixed in. I didn’t click on them because, well, quite frankly, I didn’t want to, but I can tell from the titles and from the look of the images that it’s fetish porn. And I can guarantee you that you see everything of these women.
So, in this same search where I’m looking for men, the results of frontal nudity are a rare gem to find. Yet, when it comes to women, there are actually more examples of forced exposure of frontal nudity, despite the fact that I just told the search engine that that wasn’t what I was looking for.
A change is indeed happening. I’m seeing all around us that, as a society, we are getting tired of such an imbalance in the display of the female body compared to the male body. HBO, Amazon, Netflix, Hulu, and Shudder are all services with original works that include full-frontal male nudity. But when it comes to the fetish of ENM, that’s still proving slightly more difficult to find. For the most part, a good number of them are still hiding behind the velvet rope of privacy functions and subscription-based platforms. And, ya know what? I get it. If you’re a filmmaker, a creator who’s spent money on resources to make and create such works, then, yeah, I believe you should have a profit. If you put in the work, you should have a financial benefit. But I also believe that if our ENM community had more creators who started making film projects with full plots and stories and resources to make a professional film that has fewer boundaries when it comes to male exposure, then who knows? It may have a snowball effect, and we can find ourselves in a place where these search results of fetish erotica actually have what we’re looking for instead of the equivalent of having someone dig through the bargain basement bin and say, “Sorry, this is all we’ve got.” It’s been the norm for women to be used as visual mediums of sexual expression pretty much ever since the first film near the beginning of the 20th century. That’s still a standard and a basis of thought that has been sewn into the fabric of our cultural cornerstones, and it may be a while before we can move even further past that.
In fact, I have an idea for a future article where I’d like to list the stories I’ve written in the past that I would love to make into films. So, I’m getting the message out there. It’s like that expression goes: Be the change you want to see.
Advances towards this movement may have started, but let’s keep this train goin’. C’mon, filmmakers and show-runners, if you’re going to have embarrassing nude scenes of men in your work, especially ones where they’re forced to remove clothing or have clothing forcibly removed from them, let’s see it all. Dick Tracy may be private in his investigations, but dick, itself shouldn’t be concealed in evidence.
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Both Professor Stanley and Galfred have taken their leave for the moment. But Austin has stayed behind. I’m seeing him out of the corner of my eye and then I nervously look his way. He’s got this warm smile and is staring at me. I’m actually still kind of hard. The front of my pants poking out. I look off to the side and then back to Austin as I edge my right hand close to the front of my pants to cover it up.
Austin tilts his head and then reaches for my hand and, just like Professor Galfred has done a few times tonight, pushes it away. I look down to my pants and they’re poking out more, now. I can actually feel myself getting harder. It’s pressing into the material of my underwear. I can even start to feel it twitch. The spasms are light and take hold of the base of my cock. I’m trying to hide how excited I’m getting.
“You know,” Austin says, stepping closer to me, “I’ve seen you around campus.”
“Ha-have you, now?” I ask nervously as my voice drifts on the flustered wave of my breath.
Austin nods his head while maintaining eye contact with me. I have to look away a few times. He’s looking at me so intently. Piercing through me. It’s a private look of such obvious desire. The kind of look you give someone before you make a move on them. His red hair seeming more vibrant, his freckles more appealing in their softness. Or maybe it’s because this guy who I always thought of as attractive is now looking at me with a seductive hunger.
“I’ve seen you looking at me.”
I laugh nervously while, again, looking off to the side. I can’t keep looking him in the eyes. It’s just making me harder.
He places his thumb and index finger on my chin and lifts my head up to meet his face. He’s so very close to me, right now. His lips not even an inch away from mine. The warmth of his mouth embracing mine. He’s almost touching mine. If either one of us were to move in, we’d be kissing.
“The same way I look at you,” he says, his lips moving against mine. He then turns his head to the side and looks around the room. “In fact,” he turns back to look at me, moving in closer now. His lips are actually touching mine, now. “Everyone here knows how you feel about them.”
Our breath pushing into each other’s mouths, our eyes looking directly into each other. It doesn’t even register that he just told me everyone at this gathering knows how I feel about them.
Austin closes his eyes and I feel the weight of his tongue. It’s inserting into my lips. I close my lips around his tongue as I insert mine into his mouth, The wet, slick sounds of our lips sliding against each other, detaching and reattaching. Our breath getting all shaky. He gives my lips one more peck as he pulls away. I think he’s going to walk off when he looks down at my shirt and says, “This is a nice shirt.” As he’s saying this, he’s taking his fingertips and starts gliding them along my shirt. I feel the soft, gentle touch, pressing the cloth against my chest.
I then feel just one finger from each hand sliding diagonally upward, approaching my top button as I lift up my head and exhale out of a helplessness. In the back of my mind, I know this is happening in front of all these men Professor Galfred has invited to this party. And a small part of me is in panic mode, but that’s at the far back of my mind. I then feel his hands. They’re pulling at either side of my shirt as he pushes the top button of my shirt through the slit. And with such ease, the button gives way and my shirt opens up. I look down to meet his face as I look around the room. I notice that men are talking amongst themselves. But they’re also occasionally looking directly over to me and smiling. It’s an entertained kind of smile, but there’s also desire in these expressions. I’ve suddenly become the center of attention, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I forget that Austin has been unbuttoning my shirt this entire time. I look down and see that my shirt is halfway open now. Austin’s hands are just patiently taking hold of my buttons and pushing them out of place. Pushing the sides of my shirt to the side, purposely exposing my chest more and more with each button he undoes. He pulls the shirt out of my pants as he undoes the last few buttons. He gently glides his fingers across my stomach as he uses his arms to push my shirt out, pulling them out of my pants. My stomach convulses. I have to arch my back as his fingers ever-so-softly slides across my skin as it erupts in gooseflesh. I close my eyes hard as I whisper the word, “Fuuuuck.”
“You like the soft touch,” Austin says, his lips caressing my right cheek. He then says, “That knowledge will come in handy later.”
I turn to face him. “Wha-what do you mean by that?”
Austin only smirks at me knowingly.
Professor Galfred and another Professor from one of my other classes approaches me from behind. The other Professor is Professor Ralphstead. He’s got a shaved head and an elongated nose. The nose centers his gruffly angled face. He has a certain toughness to his look. He’s also always been a little stern. Just enough to inspire of soft intimidation but softened with his inviting teaching style. He’s a very fit guy and the clothes he’s wearing tonight don’t hide that.
Professor Galfred and Ralphstead take hold of my arms. I look to both of them while asking, “What, ummm, what exactly is this party about?”
They don’t answer. They just continue to have their eyes angled down at my arms as they slide their hands all the way down to my cuffs and then unbutton them. Then, they each take one hand to take hold of the back of my shirt and pull. It slides off my trembling body. The remainder of my shirt is pulled out of my pants as they remove it from me, completely. Professor Ralphstead places his hand on my cheek and angles my face up to his. His green eyes burning into me like emerald suns.
“Haven’t you figure that out, yet?” Professor Ralphstead says. He looks down and I know what he’s looking at. I just keep looking at him.
I then feel his thumb press into the tip of my still hard dick. I take a surprised inhalation. My voice being pulled into me as my chest puffs up. I’m surprised, embarrassed, and turned on all at the same time. He keeps pressing against my dick.
“Ughhh,” is all I can muster to say as I actually rest my head on his shoulder as I feel his hard touch all the way down to the back of my cock.
“Soon,” he says, as he flicks his thumb against the tip of my dick and it rebounds. It reverberates up and down as it convulses, starting to build up a hot flow through the shaft. He directs his eyes to me and says, “Real soon.”
He then tweaks the tip of my penis with his thumb and index finger, smirks and walks off. I look around the room, again. I begin to softly hug myself with my arms. Even with my pants and underwear still on, I have never felt so exposed.
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I nod to him, carrying this half smile. My eyes shift over to the professor a few times while I do this little dance by moving them back and forth between Professor Galfred and everyone else. I’m walking onto this carpeting which feels like a cloud. Feeling slightly insecure that I’m the only one in the room with no shoes or socks on.
As I’m walking forward, I feel the professor’s hands on my shoulders. His fingers press into my shoulder blades. And then he starts doing the strangest thing. He takes his thumbs and firmly presses them into my tendons while he begins holding and releasing his fingers on the shoulders he’s holding. I close my eyes and get lost in his touch as my lips part. I exhale softly as I begin to feel like I’m melting as he is literally massaging me in front of his guests. For a second, everything dissipates into a black as I forget where I am. And then I feel his hot breath on my ear as he asks, “Can I take your coat?” His mouth his close enough to where his lips caress the baby hairs at the edge of my ear. I hear the wet curves of his tongue and I swear he’s about to start licking my ear.
I open my eyes and I see everyone is looking at me. I then remember where I am. I stand up straight as I bob my head down a few times at my pants. Shit. My erection is quite visible. It’s actually forming this outward triangle pushing into my zipper and stretching the fabric of my pants. I go to cover myself as I laugh nervously, my cheeks blushing.
Then, I hear the professor whisper a very decisive, “No,” as he takes hold of my hands and gently pushes them back to their sides, which is making me even more hard. I’m now pointing at everyone in his party and I can’t hide it. The professor then softly moves his fingers up the back of my coat and pushes them under it. With one gentle tug, he pushes my coat down as it slides off my arms and then my hands.
“It’s nice to see you, Holt,” one of the other professors at the university say, extending his hand. It’s professor Stanley. He’s a lean guy with a salt-and-pepper beard. Got the kind of eyes that looks like there’s stars in them. Also a pretty hairy guy from what I can gather. Although, I haven’t seen him naked like I saw Professor Galfred. But he’s has these facial features that suggest he could have a pretty hairy chest.
I smile nervously and walk up to him. I shake his hand as my other hand edges to my still very hard penis under my pants. Professor Galfred walks by, puts his hand on my arm I’m using to try to cover myself with, and gently pulls it to the side while again, softly saying, “No,” in a very decisive manner.
I nervously glance over to Professor Galfred and I’m trying to look for any indication as to why he might be doing this. But instead he’s just looking to Professor Stanley shaking my hand as he lets go of my arm. When I look back to Professor Stanley, I notice a not-so-subtle look down at my crotch area. He looks back up at me and he’s got this smile. There’s a slight warmth to it, but it’s more so satisfied. As if he got what he came here for, whatever that is.
I immediately let go of his hand and say, “It’s umm, it’s nice to see you, too, Professor Stanley.”
“Holt, here, is a rising star in my class,” Professor Galfred says.
“Is he, now?” Professor Stanley responds. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Holt.”
There’s this side smile that finds it’s way on the side of my mouth. I’m wondering what’s going to happen tonight. Part of me is frightened, but another part is oddly excited.
Another student comes into the picture. It’s Austin Jones. A pretty attractive redhead. He’s got these eyebrows that make him appear wholesome. A face that looks like it’s been painted by Norman Rockwell with a light dusting of freckles.
That’s when I notice, everyone here is someone I think is attractive. Picture something like all the guys from Dieux De Stade, or better yet, The Warwick Rowers all together in one room. It’s like I’m in some kind of fantasy photo shoot where I get to stand behind the scenes. But, I’m beginning to think that maybe I’m the one that this scene is all about.
“Professor Stanley,” Austin says as Professor Stanley looks over to Austin. They share this expression. As if Austin is reminding him of something. He then points up to Professor Stanely’s shirt.
“Oh, yes,” the professor says and proceeds to undo the top two buttons of his shirt. Letting me get a real good look at his chest hair.
Professor Stanley laughs as he says, “I guess you’re excited to see me, Holt.” He points to my pants.
When I direct my eyes to see where he’s pointing, I’m seeing the center of my pants is protruding out further. To the point that it looks like it could bust through at any second. I edge my fingers to it while laughing nervously. But then, Professor Galfred places his hand on my arm and pushes down while Austin walks over next to me and pushes my other arm down. Forcing me to expose my obvious erection. My heart’s racing in my throat as my veins burn with a nervous impatience. I shudder a little.
Professor Stanley is still pointing his finger at my crotch. But, then, I notice that finger is hovering closer and closer. And then, it actually touches the tip of my penis still covered with my underwear and my zipped-up pants. He proceeds to caress his index finger over the top of it while moving his thumb towards the bottom. He gives it a gentle squeeze. I nearly jump as I quietly gasp. I’m sure both Professor Galfred and Austin can feel me flinch.
“Can I take off your belt, Holt?”
At first, I can’t register what he just said. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears and the mad thumping of my heart. My pulse flustering a quivered pace under my skin.
“Ugh, what?” I ask, almost breathlessly. I look up to him. My eyes lazily shifting up to meet is. I’m unable to hide how both unnerved and aroused I’m feeling. The very words I speak nearly melting on the back of my tongue.
He looks at me with a soft wanting. It makes me feel hotter as my dick twitches at the thoughts he could hiding behind those eyes. “Can I remove your belt?” he asks, again. His voice gentle and smooth like a seductive wave that whispers sex to the sand it dampens.
“Um, su-sure,” I say, trying to hide my wanting.
Professor Stanley puts the drink he’s holding down on a coffee table near him. He’s still been touching my clothed penis this entire time. When he lets go, he flicks his thumb upward. Causing it to slightly bounce from inside my pants. He reaches his hands on top of my belt. I feel myself being tugged forward as he unbuckles it. I listen to the clanking sounds as he pulls the pin out. Once it’s opened, he uses one hand to pull and it slides through the loops in my pants. The very sound of the fabric delicately snapping after each loop it escapes from sends my mind into exotic places of high anticipation. When it’s pulled all the way out, he lets it fall to the floor.
He’s still standing just as close to me. I feel the warmth of his chest against mine while I still feel Professor Galfred and Austin gently hold my arms in place. “Thank you, Holt,” Professor Stanley says, as he lightly maneuvers his fingers underneath the fabric of my shirt. Wedging them into one of the flaps between two buttons. He caresses those fingers against my undershirt as my stomach quivers at his touch. I don’t even realize one of the buttons pops free.
“I anticipate we’ll be seeing more of you tonight,” Professor Stanley says, his face now very close to mine.
He then releases his fingers, backs up, takes his drink and nods to all three of us. “Gentleman,” he says before he walks away.
I look to both Professor Galfred and Austin as they let go of my arms. And I can tell from the way they’re looking at me, they have plans for tonight. Plans involving me. I’m starting to get the impression that that is not going to be the first time tonight that an attractive man is going to ask to remove something of mine. Part of me wants to leave, but another more curious part wants to stay, wanting, needing to see what is going to happen next.
-
My breath suddenly becomes shallow as it escapes in short gasps through my mouth. My heart thumping as quick and as fast as the feeling in my lifting erection. I almost have an instinct to close my legs back up, tensing slightly at Professor Galfred’s touch. His hand is still riding up my pants as my top leg slides off my bottom one. No way to hide it now.
My hands are grappling the bottom of my seat. My eyes becoming wide as they peer close to the rims, concentrating hard on where his hand is going. I look up to him and he’s got those eyes of his gazing right into me. I can literally feel his look. He then moves his eyes down at the the center of my pants. His fingers hovering just above the material of my pants. Not touching it, but the warmth of his hand so close to them, it nearly sears a dense heat through my leg.
“I saw you,” the professor says. “I saw you seeing me… at the beach.” He does a slow blink as he softly moves his eyes back up to meet mine. “You are aware that that was a private beach.” He lays his hand back on my pants, but gently. Imagine if a shadow had physical presence and then you’d get the idea of what this feels like. “Aren’t you, Mr. Holt?”
I glance nervously off to the side and face him again. Not able to fully look at him. The far recesses of my mind expanded into steaming saunas. My face getting hot and flustered. The shade of red caressing just underneath my skin nearly palpable. “I’m, um, I’m sorry?”
The professor tilts his head while forming this inquisitive look. There is this gentility to his eyes. He’s not close enough to lean in and kiss me, but God, I’m certainly getting the impression he could do that any minute.
“You’re sorry? Mr. Holt, you saw me at a location that was supposed to be secluded and you saw me, your professor, without anything on. Do you think that’s right?”
Even though the questions he’s asking sound accusatory, his voice is telling a different story. It’s genuine and warm. Dare I say inviting of any kind of objection.
I only manage to shrug my shoulders. They don’t even shrug all the way. They lazily move up to either side of my head, reaching only half a centimeter, if that. My blue eyes caught in between lids that are abated in their motion. I want to say something like, I don’t know. But what comes out is this uncertain sound that spills from my lips.
“Do you think it’s fair?” he asks as he moves his eyes back down again, spotlighting right on my crotch area. He moves his hand up to the very top of my pants. He closes his index finger and thumb at the cornered fabric just above the button. He starts tugging, slightly. Not enough to open them, but enough to where I can feel a delicate pull. My cock so hard it’s lifting up through my pants and almost touching his hand. “Do you think it’s fair, Mr. Holt, that you got to see me, but I haven’t gotten to see you?”
I actually don’t know what he means for a second. It takes longer than it should for me to completely understand. My mouth drops open and I whisper an, “Ohhh.”
He applies just a little more force to his thumb and index finger. I’ve got one of those snap buttons and no belt. So it would be easy for one to just pull it open. I swear I can see the button begin to exit the hole it was made to be placed into.
“I don’t think that’s right? You do realize, Mr. Holt, that if I were to tell anyone, well…”
A quick gasp leaps into my throat as the button actually snaps open. “You won’t exactly get kicked out, but it will make a lot of trouble for you. And you’re on a scholarship, right?”
Again, he doesn’t even sound threatening. It’s just matter of fact. In fact, with the tone he’s using, it almost sounds like he’s seducing me. Careful to speak with an exact and sumptuous curve to his tongue. He’s practically molesting the English language.
However, that doesn’t stop from part of me feeling not just intimidated, but having a spot of fear. What could this man do to my scholastic standing?
I look down as I see he’s now lifting up the head of my zipper. “So, I think it’s only fair that I,” he begins pulling. The teeth modestly opening as shadows escape from the top of my underwear, “That I get to see you. Do you agree?” He continues to pull at the same speed.
I just sit there, shaking my head, not saying no, just not knowing what to say. The professor then stops halfway through. My hard-on pressing up against the partly undone zipper, wanting so desperately to break free of it.
“Yes or no, Mr. Holt?” he asks, his index finger and thumb still on the head of my zipper.
I look back up to him while he is still looking down at the work he’s done, so far, at the center of my pants. “Umm, I, ugh, I, I guess so, yes?” I say, wanting to see where this is going to go.
I can feel him begin to pull, again, just enough to where it’s riding on the two pieces of small track it’s on. With my dick getting harder by the second, his pinkie beginning to caress the tip of my penis over my pants, my breathing drowning at the base of my throat, I lift up my head and close my eyes.
I then feel his warmth suddenly pull away. I dart my head back down and he’s standing up, now. “Good,” he says.
He looks back up to the door and starts walking back up the stairs. I sit here confused as all hell as I quickly zip up and button my pants. My heart twists at the sound of the door he locked not just five minutes ago being unlocked. “Then we’re in agreement,” I hear him say.
I hear him opening the door. I gather my things and get up from my seat. When I turn around, I see him standing beside the opened door. “I will be sending you an E-Mail with instructions, Mr. Holt, but I want you to meet me at my place tonight.”
My eyes go wide as I try to hide a smile. “Umm, wha-what, umm, what for?” I ask, knowing the answer, but I want to hear him say it.
“Oh, that’s not important right now, Mr. Holt. What is important is your scholarship and not disappointing me.” He extends his hand towards the door, obviously meaning for me to take my leave. “I’ll see you tonight, Mr. Holt.”
I can’t think of much to say. I just nod my head while still holding my hand to my crotch area. It’s going down, but I can still feel it poking out. I walk up the steps and manage to swing my eyes up to his a few times and then walk through the door. I don’t look back. I just keep walking. There may be plenty to look forward to tonight.
_________________________________________________________________________
It was odd that the E-Mail said to wear such dressy attire, yet to have loafers instead of shoes.
I’ve managed to get out of my car and make it as far as where the sidewalk and the walkway up to his door meet. I was all ready to just go up and knock on the door when I stopped for a second after hearing what I thought was other people’s voices. Not just voices, I’m hearing whole overlapping conversations and a subtle hint of music. I’m not afforded the assumption that it could be someone else’s house, because behind the curtains of the lit-up windows, I can see shadows of people. Not just a few people. I could see quite a lot.
The house, itself, is one level. But, man, is it nice. There’s a wooden fence on the side and I could tell, just from the front door, that the inside of this place must look pretty fancy. What would you expect from a professor’s salary? Especially one at such an esteemed college as I go to.
I do think, for a minute, though, that maybe I do have the wrong place. I clear my throat as I begin making my way up to the door. Already picturing in my mind that I’d be doing that thing where I’d have my hand up to the door ready to knock, but freeze a few times, questioning whether I actually should or not.
As I make my way up, though, something comes more and more into view. It’s a piece paper taped to the window on the front door. I can feel my pulse accelerate as I step cautiously towards the door and actually read what the piece of paper says:
Mr. Holt, before you enter, please take off your shoes and socks and leave them at the door.
Okay, now that’s just weird. If he wanted me to do this, why didn’t he just say that in his E-Mail? Furthermore, why are there other people here tonight? Just what exactly does he have planned? I’m shaking my head no as I step back and begin second guessing this. I turn around and start walking with more determination to my car.
Just as I’m halfway between my car and the professor’s front door, I hear the door open behind me. Upon that door opening, I’m listening to other voices more clearly, now. The music and the conversation. I place my hand on my chest for a second. Feeling the heart beating underneath my fingers. It can’t possibly be…
I turn around, partly. Facing the next-door neighbor’s and the front door. My eyes move the rest of the way to the door, and out of the side of my vision, I’m seeing the professor. He’s dressed up in a mahogany red, buttoned-down shirt, with the signature look of those first few buttons being undone, showing off his chest hair. And he’s got on beige slacks that are firmly pressed against his skin.
My prick twitches a little just from seeing him at an angle. My mind immediately going to this afternoon. Him locking the door and feeling his hand undoing my pants and pulling my zipper down, and especially running his pinkie right along my growing penis. I catch myself and calm my breathing down as much as I can and try to get my mind off of earlier today. I wouldn’t want to get a hard-on right now.
The professor puts his hands in his pockets and walks up to me. He does this casual swagger and looks at me with a knowing expression. It’s as if he wants me to get excited again.
“Please come inside,” he says, still making his way up to me.
“Ummm, I’m, um, good… professor. I just realized___”
“Trust me, Mr. Holt, you don’t have to worry about assignments right now.”
He walks up a little closer to me. I’m still only side-eyeing him as I’m facing the house next door. “It is going to be in your best interest to come inside. There’s quite a few people that want to see you.”
I finally turn to face him. “Why does anyone want to see me? I mean, you indicated tonight was going to be a little more …. intimate?”
“It is, Mr. Holt,” the professor says. “It is going to be a very intimate evening. And I suggest you come inside. You’re going to disappoint a lot of people. Not to mention do irreparable damage to your scholarship. Or were you not listening when I said that this afternoon?”
Again, he just has that way of speaking. The words sound threatening, but the tone of voice he’s using is far from it. It’s inviting and warm and he’s just looking at me with such charming enthusiasm.
I nod my head and start making my way towards his house with him beside me. I look forward and see, now, who’s inside. It’s a good number of the faculty. Several other professors, the dean, even some students. And I’m noticing that all of them are men. Not a woman in sight. At least from what I can see in the doorway.
Before I enter the house the professor puts a hand on my stomach. He lets it linger there, moving the fingers slightly, caressing my stomach and edging real close to my belt. This gets everything in me going as I can feel my dick to press up against my underwear, which is starting to fill out my pants. Again, I try to calm down. Injecting some quick meditation through my nervous thoughts that are also actually kind of aroused.
I look forward. Everyone else is wearing shoes and socks. So my am I to take mine off? I want to ask, but when I look back to the professor, he’s looking at me with persuasive compassion.
I just nod my head and use my right foot to pull the loafer off my left and vice-versa. I bend down and put them aside and then remove my socks. I roll them up in balls and place them in the loafers. When I stand back up, Professor Galfred has his hand out, inviting me in. I’m still somewhat excitable as I enter this elaborate home full of men from my college. All the while, I’m wondering what I have just agreed to.
-
Picture that. Picture that exact same image in your mind. A man you’ve held esteem for that has such charisma and swagger. He’s right there, in front of you, each Tuesday and Thursday of each week. Fashioned in attire that relates as the rustic every man, yet still seems pressed firm against his body. So much so that it makes it seem like the material it’s made up of is nothing more than mere shadows that present what could be just beneath. And he always leaves the first few buttons undone. His ruggedly silver chest hair whispering of so much more, if you could just undo a few more of those buttons and…. get a closer look.
Now, imagine that you actually did. Imagine that you not only got to see a little more. You got to see everything.
I was out with some friends last week who suddenly decided that they were carrying too much in the car and decided to get rid of some extra cargo that was no longer necessary… me. We didn’t even get into an argument. It was more of a disagreement. That’s not the important part, though. After they kicked me out and I was wandering around, aimlessly, for a few hours, I found a wooded area. Thinking that a young college student in the middle of nowhere while being alone in the woods wasn’t the safest plan, I high-tailed it through there. Eventually, I found that the twigs and broken branches and leaves on the ground were fading into soft sand. Beach sand, to be exact. I didn’t know that there were any beaches around here, but I continued.
It still didn’t make me feel all that safe, because this place was not very populated. In fact, I seemed to be the only one around for miles. The ocean water was placid that day. Calmly rolling up and back as if the water was a dream that seemed to drift against this side of forever.
That’s when I saw what I could have sworn was a mirage. He had his back turned to me. And what a backside it was. I could even see from here that that mane of manly silver hair washed over his shoulders and down his back.
And… he was naked. Not a stitch of clothing on him. From where I was standing, I could see he had a firm behind. You could tell there was some age on it. But there was this half-sided roundness to his buttocks. The bottom of his cheeks had this subtle bounce that moved up through his buns in robust salt-water waves kissed with glints of that silver hair.
Then… he turned around. The front was even more impressive. That silvery hair clasped his shoulders and as it trailed in thick layers all the way down his chest and stomach, one could see that it was outlined in the whispered shadow of darker territory. The hair on his stomach appeared to be the whitest, which dipped into the luscious earth of dusk as it reached down into his pubic region just above his dick. It wasn’t big, but it didn’t matter. The way the cylinder skin bounced freely in the condensed shape of flesh popped open with that red tear-shaped dot that was the circumcised head perfectly balanced the rest of his physique. His figure was lean which had a tenuously firm uplift that spoke to how active he was at this stage in his life. How his mostly gray beard caressed his rugged face drawn in with these handsome brows perfectly aligned with how his completely exposed body moved. Like a ruggedly domineering creature that didn’t stalk the forest grounding it claimed, it dominated it. With a natural kindness that etched a softness to his movements and all that hair I so badly wanted to run my fingers through.
It was then that I finally noticed a sign sitting so plainly at the top of the sand dune behind me.
——PRIVATE BEACH—–
I remember ducking out of the way just as he looked my way. But, honestly, the rest of that whole incident has become kind of fuzzy. The edges of the memory have been burnt up by the sheer sultriness of that fucking body hair I’ve been wanting pressed against me.
And who am I? Well, my name is Holt. And I’m one of Professor Galfred’s students. I’m 28 years old, blonde, and lean. I could give you further details on what I look like, but my mind’s not focused on that right now. What I can tell you is that I my lean build has a solid frame. The clothes I wear always fitting close to a second skin and shows off the work I’ve put into my body. That my hair is often styled in such a way that it extends from my head in this yellow wave which melds in the suggestive curves of a fire. I’ve got a slightly bulbous nose that I’ve actually gotten a lot of compliments on several times, being told that it centers my angular face and, paired with my sloped darkly yellow brows, gives me this boyish charm.
Currently, I’m sitting in the Professor’s class. Thankfully, I’m dead center and it’s one of those rather big classrooms where there are quite literally a few hundred seats placed on this diagonal platform. It’s lucky because I’m trying hard to hide, well, that I’m quite hard, at the moment. I’m trying to take notes, but the keys have gotten all slick with the beads of sweat that are secreting from my finger tips. Some people look at me strangely as I sit there looking like I have to pee so bad I’m a fire hydrant ready to burst. I mean, I am ready to explode, but not in that way.
I am actually listening to every word the professor is saying. I am comprehending the way his baritone voice is shaping the words that are escaping those lips of his. But that’s just it. I’m listening too hard on how his tongue slips and curves from inside his mouth. Seductively stroking the shuddering edge of those husky consonants and cream-laced vowels. How he speaks like he is wanting to talk directly to you. Look to you as he’s secluding this spotlight that embraces the warmth of your skin. I don’t realize that my breath is starting to lose control. I gather myself before anyone else notices. But I’m crossing my legs more. God, I don’t know how much more the center of my pants can take.
I flinch as, suddenly, everyone in the class gets up and starts filing out. I guess class is dismissed.
I continue to sit, pretending like I’m taking notes, when in actuality, I’m just waiting for the moment where my pants don’t look like they’ve gone camping should I get up.
“Mr. Holt,” I hear Professor Galfred’s voice boom.
I look up to him as he has his back turned towards me. He’s currently erasing the board. I take this moment to move my eyes down to his pants. Concentrating on how his underwear must be hugging his butt in place and the way that rounded flesh delicately heaves beneath those dark-gray slacks. Although, concentrating so intently on my professor’s behind is doing nothing for my raging boner.
“Please stay,” the professor says, putting the eraser down and then turns around and looks at me. His eyes look both wanting and stern at the same time. “I want to have a word with you,” he adds in a voice that is slightly foreboding. Despite the fact that I could be in trouble for sneaking a peak at quite a delicious specimen working for the faculty, I think to myself, it’ll be worth whatever punishment may be heading my way.
I nod and curve my mouth up to the right, nervously. My cheek dimpling into my lips. I want to say okay or something to acknowledge what he said. But my voice has been snatched right up from my breath that the professor is taking away. The way he’s leaning against the chalk board, his arms crossed, giving off this authoritarian stance is suggesting more silver stud staring into you rather than a leader that’s wanting to show his commanding presence. He continues to look at me, not moving his eyes. Just focused directly at me. The rims of his glasses lining up the bottoms of his dark, dark eyes.
I look around a few times while I side-eye him in moments of weakness. He’s still looking at me.
We listen as the last few footsteps make it up the stairs, gradually dissipating into echoes as they become more elusive, wavering down the hallways.
I watch as the professor drops his arms to his sides and gets up from the board. Watch at how his pants swish around his strong calves as he makes it up the steps. I listen to his footsteps as they ascend. Decisively tapping against the ground with an intention that I’m still questioning. I don’t even look behind me. I’m just so very focused forward, my hands still on my keyboard, the fingers hovering above them.
I hear the door close. The finalized sound of the click as he locks the door erupts a chill through me. It feels both fearful and exhilarating.
Then, as he walks down those steps smoothly and with a pliable machismo, he says something that actually causes the base of my dick to twitch: “Uncross your legs.”
My mouth pops open. My head slowly turns towards him, my voice merely fumbles. “Wh-what?”
I see him from the side. Then, he steps closer. A shadow is cascaded over me as I’m feeling the warmth of his body leaning into me. A gasp escapes through the back of my throat as I first feel the tips of his fingers on my top leg. I look down, my eyes making their way to his hand while I’m thinking to myself, Is this really happening?
His hand is definitely there. And my pants are deepening beneath his touch as he moves his fingers over my leg and starts pulling. And I could swear, those fingers are ever so slightly moving up my leg as he says with that gravely and captivating voice of his, sending signals all the way down my cock, starting to make it throb beneath my pants: “I said… un…cross.. your legs.”
-
Two weeks!” Gerald yells at the plumber, Brendon, who was hired to fix his shower head. “I have to wait two weeks!”
“Look, sir, it’s a very specific model.
Brendon gets a text and looks at his phone.
“You fuckin’ use it, then!”
Brendon sighs as he looks at the phone, not responding to Gerald. He sees it’s from his boss.
Why are you arguing with Gerald Westfield!? He’s not only one of our prominent clients, but also an investor! We actually have the part you’re speaking of! Just do whatever he wants. If he says jump, you say how high! We expect you back here to get the part you need. If you fuck this up, believe me, no one in this business will hire you again! Everyone knows who he is, you dumb fuck!
A chill runs through Brendon.
“Look, sir, I___”
“Don’t you DARE apologize to me. Go and use my fuckin’ shower head!”
“We’ve got the part,” the plumber quickly explains.
“Great, I’ll get it from one of your competitors!”
“You, you don’t have to do that,” Brendan quickly says.
Gerald backs his head up and cocks it to the side. He smiles, devilishly and says, “Okay, I’ll get it from you and give your boss rave reviews about you.”
Brendan smiles and nods his head as he feels relieved.
“Provided you do one thing for me.”
Brendan looks up and says, “What.”
“Like I said, I wanna test it one more time. Go in the bathroom.”
“Look, Mr. Westfield….”
“Go in my bathroom, NOW!”
Brendan flinches as he walks into the bathroom, quickly followed by Gerald.
Once in the bathroom, he sees Gerald put his phone in the compartment usually meant for soap on the other end of the shower, facing the shower head. Brendan remembers how he said it was waterproof.
Gerald walks back over to face Brendan. He nods his head to the shower while saying, “Okay, take your clothes off and get in.”
“What?” Brendan says, nervously laughing while holding himself a little.
“You don’t take a shower with your clothes on.” He throws his hand up to Brendan. “Take ’em off.”
Brendan gives Gerald this are-you-serious look.
“I could always call your boss.”
Brendan sighs again while starting to take his shoes off.
“And hurry up, I got important things to do.”
Brendan then slides his socks off. He gets back up and quickly runs his fingers down the buttons of his shirt. Shaking with nerves all the way. He pulls his shirt open and out of his pants, then slides it down his shoulders and off his arms. He can barely grasp the button on his pants he’s shaking so bad.
“Okay, I’m calling your boss,” Gerald says as he’s about to reach for his phone.
Brendan then grabs hold of his pants and tears open his button and zipper and quickly pulls his jeans down his legs. He steps out of them, almost tripping on them. He’s about to step into the shower when Gerald says, “Really, you shower with your underwear on? Take those off, too.”
Brendan almost protests, but then remembering what his boss said. He puts his hands on both sides of his briefs. He pushes the waist band down into the middle of his hands and then pulls his last article of clothing down. He stands back, his buttocks exposed to Gerald. With his hands covering his crotch, he steps into the shower.
“Buddy,” Gerald says, putting his thumb and index finger to his head, looking restless. “You are testing the shower head and you are an established plumber. Because of that, I need you to face the phone, for a second, while I state who you are.”
Brendan turns around, looking unsure if he should. While still covering up his penis, he faces the camera on his phone.
“Hands on your head,” Gerald says.
Brendan arches his eyebrow and turns to face Gerald. “Why?”
“Your job, here is not to ask questions,” Gerald says. “If you want an answer, then it’s because I’m Gerald fucking Westlake and I could make sure no one hires you again, understood?”
Brendan nods while he swallows a small piece of air.
“Good, now face the camera, and put your hands on your head.”
Brendan looks towards the phone and lifts up his hands and places them on the back of his head. His eyes expand while the right side of his mouth trembles upward, having no choice but to show his penis as it quivers with the rest of his fully exposed body.
Gerald begins, “This is Gerald Westlake. This plumber said I needed to wait two weeks for a new shower head. We’re about to test it….”
-
“You think it’s funny taking other people’s property!?” the angry college student yells at Zed as he places the bike back against the pole.
Zed is laughing nervously, and honestly thought the bike was his. He thought it strange that it had no lock. But then saw his bike across the street just as the angry guy was running up to him.
Zed puts his hands up and is about to explain. He’s got his mouth open and is ready to speak when he hears another voice behind him.
“Why the fuck were about to go off with my friend’s bike, man!?”
Zed turns around and sees a group of guys approaching him. He doesn’t have much time to set things right.
“Look, gentleman,” he quickly says, “I thought it was mine.”
“Oh, you thought it was YOURS, huh!?” another guy in the group says.
They now have him surrounded.
“Look,” he turns to each one, “I, I’m sorr___”
“Can you believe this shit?” One of them says. “Thinkin’ that it was his? You believe that, bro?”
“I, I really thought…” Zed’s voice is shaky as he fumbles his hand outward to try and further explain.
“Maybe he’s right,” one of the group says.
“Yeah, maybe he is,” another one says.
This is interspersed with Zed trying to say something, anything, to make the situation better. But all that comes out is pieces of his voice as he keeps getting interrupted.
“Yeah. Since he thinks the bike is his,” the guy that was running up to him says, “maybe he’s got something that belongs to one of us.”
Zed looks back and forth between them. His eyes looking more desperate. His voice more anxious to speak.
“Yeah,” one of the other guys says as four from the group are getting closer.
It’s now or never, Zed has to say something.
As he starts speaking while saying, “Look, guys…”
Zed is still trying to explain himself as the four guys from the group grab hold of his arms and legs so he has as little movement as possible.
Zed is still trying to explain, words running quickly off of the fumbling curves of his tongue, but they’re not listening.
While they’ve still got him held in place, one of the other guys comes up to him and says, “Yeah, well, maybe I think this SHIRT is mine!”
As the guy says the word “shirt,” he uses both hands to grab hold of Zed’s collar and pulls his hands down in opposite directions. His body is thrust downward as the shirt quickly rips open. Splitting a quick tear all the way down to the bottom. As the man is angrily clawing at the sleeves, the fabric severing open beneath his grasping fingers, another person on the group comes to him from behind and reaches around his waist.
“And maybe we think these shorts are ours!”
Zed has no belt on, so the guy’s hands just blindly feels around on his shorts until they find the button. Then, as he’s unbuttoning the shorts and pulling the zipper down, the other guy tears the last few remaining strands of his shirt off. The fabric pulling from between his back and the backpack he has on.
Once the zipper’s down, his shorts are yanked down so hard that the skin on his legs giggle slightly while his butt bounces from beneath his underwear along with his still-covered penis.
They hold his legs up one at a time as they slide the shorts on the ground. Taking them away from him.
“Look,” Zed says breathlessly, looking around like a trapped animal, “You really don’t have to do this. It was a mistake.”
They collectively look amongst themselves and it appears an agreement has been reached. To Zed’s relief, the guys holding him in place let him go.
He smiles and crosses his arms over his bare chest and stands there with his back pack on and in his underwear.
“C-Can I have my shorts back?” Zed says.
No response, they just look at him. Zed nervously looks around and his instinct is to run.
“Dude, take the bike,” the original guy that approached him says.
“Mine is over there,” Zed quickly says as he darts in the other direction.
Zed’s heart jumps up in his chest when two of the guys grab hold of him again and walk him back to their friend’s bike. “Take it, man,” one of them says in this overly sweet, obviously fake voice.
“Yeah, you said you thought it was yours, so take it.”
He starts shaking his head no, but then sees all these college guys looking at him. They’re all eyeing him sternly, concentrating a hard stare that is practically shooting daggers at Zed.
“O-okay.” Zed agrees. At least he’ll have a way out of this situation.
“Except,” one of the guys says, approaching him.
Zed’s breath almost comes to a stop as he feels hands, again, grasping around his arms and legs. People have gathered, watching this situation unfold. “We just need one more thing which we,” the guy places his hand against his own chest, “Think is ours.”
Zed turns his head to the side. His eyes go wide and a gasp punches a hole in the back of his throat as it happens. A pair of hands are slapped either side of his underwear and then he feels his briefs quickly lowered, being pulled all the way down to his shoes. His now bare ass bounces while his exposed dick flops upward. They have him step out of it.
“Go on, get on,” they then say as they push him to the bike.
He puts one hand over his dick and nervously gets on.
He’s trying to balance himself with one hand as he rides off with not only the angry young college men looking at him, but many other people as well.
“If you’re going to ride like that,” one of them says as two come running up to him. They stop the bike from moving forward by putting their hands on the handlebars. One of them looks straight at Zed.
Zed looks back him as his eyes move slightly back and forth, afraid to fully look this guy in the face.
His eyes stay steely on Zed as he calmly places a hand on Zed’s hand covering his dick. He firms up his grip and then forces his hand up and out, revealing what he’s been trying to hide.
“Have an arm out for balance.”
He then leans in close to Zed’s ear and whispers, “Oh, and, ughhh, I called some friends, put the word out about you. They’re gonna watch to make sure you … get home safe.”
Zed gulps.
“And,” he leans in closer and lowers his voice to a hushed baritone, “if they see that you try to cover yourself in any way, we’re gonna not only report you but makes things a little more… difficult for you.”
The other person beside him coldly laughs.
The guy holding his arm pats him on the back and adds, “So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll make sure that dick of yours is flapping in the breeze and everyone gets a goooood fuckin’ look at it. Do I make myself clear?”
Zed nervously nods his head.
They let him go as he rides off, one hand out while the other is on his handlebar. His manhood bobbing in different directions as continues to use his legs to peddle the bike forward.
-
“He-hello? Is this thing on,” Kelson nervously says while he taps the mic.
Currently, Kelson is trying to perform his act, on stage at a local comedy club. He’s tried to do this a few times, but has bombed. Tonight, is yet, another attempt. What Kelson doesn’t know is that tonight is a very special night at the club. You see, a group of people just got off the bus. And these people have certain… abilities. All held in their grasp are wax voodoo dolls that they can use to mystically project onto anyone. And tonight, it’s focused on Kelson.
Kelson bounces back and forth saying, “Look at me, I’m a kite.” He laughs, nervously, at his own joke.
“You SUCK!” someone from the audience says.
“You’ve been up there for fifteen minutes, man!”
“Hey,” Kelson says with a shaking voice, “I don’t go to your work and tell you how to do your job, do I?” He doesn’t say this with a lot of confidence. He speaks just above a whisper.
The audience member he says this to rolls his eyes. Kelson knows he’s dying up here. It’s all he can do to try and not to perspire as much as he is.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees two audience members talking and side-eyeing him. Then, he swears he hears one of them say, just under his breath, “Watch this.”
Kelson sees him look right at him. Kelson looks at the audience member, trying to look intimidating. But all he can muster are eyes that are pleading from inside tense sockets.
“Hey, buddy!”
Kelson looks off to the side and looks back at him. “Ye-yes?”
While holding what looks like some kind of wax figure, the audience member lifts up the back of his hand and jerks it forward.
Kelson is pulled forward as a single strip of his shirt rips itself off his body. His flesh popping open and a sliver of his nipple is peaking through.
Kelson looks down and looks back up.
“Oh, okay,” he says, not knowing the the fuck is going on, “well, folks, my time is up!” Kelson says lifting up his hand. Right after he says this, another strip of cloth rips itself away from his shirt. This one on the other side. The side of his other nipple can be seen.
“Oh, no you don’t!” another audience member off in the distance says.
Kelson’s arm freezes. His entire body freezes. His arm is then propped down by some kind of force.“Why don’t you entertain us!” another audience member says.
“Yeah!” another audience member says. “And for everything we don’t like, well….”
Kelson can’t see what’s going on. It’s just dark beneath the lights. But then the bottom half of him is thrust forward while the button on his shorts flies off quickly, the top his shorts suddenly spreading open further. This is followed by the head of the zipper snapping off and the zipper, itself, is ripping wide open, exposing his underwear. He has no belt on, and the shorts are loose, so this causes them to fall right to the ground. The shorts sliding all the down his legs, putting his underwear in full view.
There’s a few wolf whistles and some saying, Yeah, baby!
Kelson’s heart expands open in his chest. Blooming in this cold nervousness that runs a chill through his body.
“Oh, okay, let me ummmm,” his voice is shaking.
Another strip of fabric is ripped away from his shirt. This one in the middle. It lifts his shirt up, flashing his chest for a second and goes all the way up to just beneath his collar and then falls back down.
“Hey, did you, ughh, did you hear about the one…”
Another strip of fabric flies off his shirt, flapping it forward like a weighted curtain.
“I’m trying here,” he says as yet, another strip of fabric flies off his shirt. His heart pounding, his nerves shattering underneath his skin as, piece by piece, more of his chest is showing.
“More like dying!” one audience member laughs.
The crowd then laughs while another another strip of fabric flies off his shirt. The sudden ripping sound tearing through his mind. Almost his entire chest is showing now.
“Well, umm,” he says as his body is jerked downward while his collar pops open and then what remains of his shirt tears down his body, savagely whipping down his arms. He nearly jumps as it is brought down to the ground.
His shorts tear open underneath his feet while his loafers and socks slide right off. His clothing drags themselves to the side of the stage. Now he’s just in his underwear.
“Say something!” one of the audience members say as Kelson can feel his butt giggle while a small piece of fabric is torn away from it.
“Well, ummmm,” he nervously says.
A big chunk of his underwear comes flying off. It reaches just up above the waist band.
“If you don’t say something funny in the next five seconds, you’re gonna lose that underwear!” one of the audience members yells.
“Okay, ummm.”
“FIVE!” the audience collectively yells.
“Wait, umm.”
“FOUR!”
“Okay, how about those airports, eh!?”
“THREE!”
Kelson’s heart is nearly exploding out of his chest. He desperately runs through his mind.
“TWO!”
“Ummm.”
“ONE!”
“Wait!” Kelson yells, defensively putting his hand up nervously cocking his head to the side.
“Too late!” an audience member yells.
And then, both sides of his waist band rip open while the underwear whips right off of him, causing his now exposed dick to bounce and flop upward. He doesn’t even have time to change positions. All he can think now is not only is he nervous and bombing, but he’s now on stage, in public, without a stitch of clothing on. He wonders how long they’re gonna keep him like this.
-
“At least let me keep my towel on,” Frank says.
“NO!” she says, yanking it out of his grasp. The towel whips from his fingers, making a harsh snapping sound as it pinches the air.
“I’m tired of you ALWAYS getting ready at the last minute!”
The door to the patio isn’t that far.
Seeing what she’s doing, some of Frank’s friends walk into the kitchen and start laughing.
They then join in, taking hold of his arms and start pushing him to the door. One of them opens it while smugly saying, “Hope you have a good time!”
“Hey, c’mon guys!” Frank says, nervously laughing, brightening up his face in a grin that almost seems half mad. His friends are actually holding his arms to his sides, forcing his exposed dick to fumble and sway, the circumcised head bouncing.
At just the last second, just as he sees everyone at the night-time BBQ, shocked faces expand and twist into humiliating laughter. Their eyes going wide, surprised at what they’re seeing.
Just as he’s being pushed up to the stairs, his friends let go and she continues to push him forward, one hand swinging behind his back as, in that second, he’s suddenly forced into a situation where everyone can see his penis sway into the wind.
Selvie Blue 