This is a completely made-up scenario that I’ve been wanting to write for a while.
She’s got her signature black dress cinched for the gods. With her hands on her hips, she looks at me with those daring eyes. The perfectly-lined mascara giving this divinely Gothic look, that eye shadow haunting her eyelids in powdered lakes of blue and that classic bouffant raven hair sleekly cascading her shoulders and back. After the initial shock of realizing who it is, I’m surprised she’s not giving me some attitude. Instead, she’s got this genuine half smile that catches her porcelain face in this empathetic expression. I widen my eyes and almost gasp.
I look around, confused, before turning back to her. “You, ummm, work …. for Tumblr?”
“Honey, look at me. I’ve got a net worth of three million dollars. Do you really think I’d need to work for a site like Tumblr?”
I shift my head, still confused as hell. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love the fact that I got some fabulous shade from the Mistress of the Dark, but the fact that she’s still standing here as if she was sent does not make sense.
Elvira purses her lips and flips her hand downward through the air and says, “Oh, sweetie. It’s a show, a sham, a fake-out, a glamour. And I gotta tell ya, they couldn’t have gotten anyone more glamorously wicked than me.” She laughs and then winks at me.
Still confused. “I’m still confused.”
She rolls her eyes while not-so-subtly whispering to herself, “For someone who likes writin’ stuff to make guys stand at attention, you’re certainly slow on the uptake.”
I tilt my head and say, “I can hear you.”
“I know.”
Smiling, I saiy, “I kinda liked it.”
“I know,” she says, smiling and then winking at me.
“But, seriously, sweetie,” Elvira continues. “I’m not actually, well… here.”
“What?”
“Let me get techified for a second.” She then folds her hands to her front in a prim-and-proper way, widens her eyes in this mechanically naive fashion and says, “This is a representation of your subconscious. We wanted to make your wait more enjoyable, so we searched through your mind to see who your comforts are. Seeing that you’re a horror fan, we searched that portion of your mind, compressing it into one of our files. We saw that Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, represents something joyous and happy to you. And someone who you always wanted to meet. So, here we are.”
As she goes back to her previous stance after speaking for what looked like a machine, I ask, “Can Tumblr really do that?”
In her signature valley-girl voice, she bobs her head and says, “How should I know? You’re the one writing the article.”
If this were a scene in a film, this would be the moment I’d be spiking the camera.
“Cool. Okay, so what do we do in the meantime?” I then form this wide-eyed happy expression and say, “Why don’t you tell me stories about yourself??”
“Should I bring in Skynet light, again? Remember, they searched your mind to get me. I’m just everything you know about me. So, unless you wanna go through a top 10 of useless crap you already know. But, hey, enough about your writing.” As she laughs, I literally hear the sound of cymbals making a rim shot. But since I don’t see Ed Shaughnessy anywhere, I have to assume it’s coming from whatever database created Elvira, here.
I arch my eyebrows for a second. But then I realize, I just got burned by Elvira. I then crack a smile because it’s the kind of burn that hurts so good.
“Okay, umm, well, I wanted to share some of these, ugh, pictures,” I say, lifting a manilla folder holding a stack of images. “You, you see, Elvira, the reason why I’m here in what I imagine to be a waiting room in the offices of Tumblr is because I___”
“Yeah, I know,” Elvira says, “You wanna know if any pics showin’ dong is gonna land your piece on the reject pile.”
“Yeah. Well, you see, I’ve been a bit afraid to have pictures of fully nude men on Tumblr for a while, so I’ve been censoring them. But, not only am I seeing other posts with full nudity lately, but there is also the fact that Tumblr reversed their nudity ban a while ago.
But I’ve still been afraid to post pics because my articles were declined. However, that was quite a bit ago.”
“Yeah, that really sucks the big one, man,” Elvira says dismissively while she’s doing that thing that people often do when they’re ignoring you in movies and TV, which is spreading out her hand and looking at her nails as if casually investigating them.
“But seeing as how Tumblr created this version of, well, you, Elvira, maybe if I run these by you, perhaps I could get some insight while I’m waiting?” I ask, half laughing, while opening up the folder and standing up. But while doing this, the pictures go spilling out. I bend down to pick them up, and Elvira does the same to help me. But as they’re still spilling, the folder lands and bounces off the top of her head.
“Oh, sorry, Elvira!” I say as I pick up the folder and we both put the images back in the folder. “How’s your head?”
As she finishes helping me, she says, “Haven’t had any complaints, yet.”
“Huh?” I go, at first not realizing the punchline.
As we both get up, she scoffs and says, “You consider yourself a fan, and you don’t even know that I was the first one to come up with that joke?”
I tilt my head and say, “Oh yeah. Were you the first one?”
She rolls her eyes again and says, “Oh, brother. You’re thinkin’ too much, man. I know what you know, remember? Just go ahead and show me some naked men.”
“Oh, okay. Well,” I flip through the pictures, pick one out, and say, “How about this one? Do you think my article would get rejected if I published it on Tumblr?”
I hand her the picture, and she takes a pair of cat glasses on an elongated stick and then looks at it:
“Well, I guess blondes really do have more fun. And if this picture’s any evidence, then he’s certainly giving some guys really good rides, eh?” Elvira laughs in an I-know-I’m-funny kind of way. If it were any other person, that would sound like a tired joke. But the fact that it’s Elvira riding in on this horse, it’s far from dead. She’s Elvira. She could make a knock-knock joke sound fabulous. “Oh yeah, but you like it when they use their mouth to clean some bed knobs and broomsticks, right?”
I chuckle and then say, “I mean, since I have seen pics of Logan Stevens fully nude on this site before, I’m thinking maybe they’d allow it. Also, he’s not erect…”
“Yeah, but you can see his oblong balloon has had at last some hot air blown up it.”
“That’s not your best, Elvira,” I say.
“Hey, you’re the one who thinks I sound like this. So if you think my jokes are falling flat, maybe you should talk with the man in the mirror.”
“Okay, okay. What do you think? You think I’ll get thrown on that reject pile?”
Elvira shrugs her shoulders and says, “Maybe, maybe not. The only way to find out is to post it.”
“True. Let’s do this: if I show you some pictures, then the pictures are going to be shown in my article. If they show up in my article, then it’s going to be there before I publish it. And if I publish it…”
“Okay, hold on, there, Aristotle. This is gettin’ a little too much like “Inception” for me. Seriously, I’m seein’ geometric shapes flying off your head.”
“Okay, okay. How about this picture?” I ask, handing it to her almost like I’m handing her a portfolio or resume.
I see she’s changed her cat glasses on a stick to actual opera glasses. She makes a playful “O” shape with her mouth. I’m half expecting her to put her hand up and tilt her head to mimic that classic fake-surprise look.
“You, see. That’s a picture from PLAYGIRL. Again, he’s flaccid. Not really posing erotically. He’s got a shirt on…”
“I can see that,” she says. “Must have been casual Friday.” She looks up at me and says, “Must’ve been reallycasual Friday,” while arching an eyebrow. “I’d really like to see their HR manual.”
I chuckle. I then hand her another picture. “Okay. How about this one?” I ask.
“Geeze, we’re gonna need a grill with all these wieners flying at me.”
I look off to the side, expecting to hear that ba-dum-shhh.
“Sorry, he only does one show a week.”
She takes a look at this one:
“You see, he’s off to the side, and the frontal appears more incidental. Nothing sexual there, right? Just a guy, probably at a nudist beach or something.”
“Right,” Elvira says. Then, as she hands the picture back to me, she says, “Well, kiddo, as fun as this has been, I think it’s time that I take my leave. You know what they say; always leave ’em wanting more.” She laughs.
As I nod my head, she adds, “Although, I think this turned out to be a bigger bust than, well, me,” and she laughs that breathy laugh.
“Well, it’s nice meeting you, Elvira.”
“This actually was a little fun,” she says, sweeping that hand through the air. Then, she nods her head, again, a few times while having this contemplative look in her eyes and says, “A little.”
I then hear that signature organ music played in an animated yet Gothic manner somewhere in the background, and, out of nowhere, a shadow is cast over her face except a strip of light over her eyes. She says, “Unpleasant dreams.” When she winks, I can actually hear a ting sound as she twiddles her fingers to wave goodbye with a playful smile.
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:
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.
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:
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.
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:
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.
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.
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 24 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.”
Selvie Blue 